A few years ago, a family walked into our office in the middle of a storm.
Their mother had passed away. She had done what she believed was the right thing. She named all three of her adult children as co-trustees.
Why?
Because she wanted to be fair.
She loved them equally. She didn’t want anyone to feel slighted. She didn’t want anyone thinking she had “picked a favorite.”
On paper, it sounded reasonable.
In reality, it was a disaster.
One sibling lived nearby and quietly shouldered most of the responsibility. He met with advisors, handled paperwork, coordinated property maintenance, and fielded calls.
Another lived across the country. She couldn’t attend meetings regularly, but still had equal authority — and equal veto power.
The third sibling? Highly intelligent, highly opinionated, and deeply sensitive about being left out of decisions. Almost every action required debate. Not because the decisions were wrong — but because the process didn’t feel inclusive enough.
Every step required a vote.
Every vote required a call.
Every call became a debate.
And every debate slowly chipped away at the relationship.
What should have been a six-to-nine-month trust administration stretched into more than two years.
Two years of emails.
Two years of tension.
Two years of mounting legal fees.
By the end, two of the three siblings weren’t speaking.
One filed a lawsuit to remove another as co-trustee.
The legal costs consumed a meaningful portion of the inheritance their mother had worked so hard to build.
And here’s the part that hurts the most:
She never intended for this to happen.
She thought she was preventing conflict.
Instead, she unintentionally engineered it.
This is one of the hardest lessons in estate planning:
Equal does not always mean functional.
And fairness does not always mean shared authority.
When you name multiple co-trustees, you are not just dividing responsibility — you are multiplying decision-making friction.
Every bank signature requires coordination.
Every investment move requires agreement.
Every property decision requires consensus.
And if one person hesitates — or disagrees — the entire machine slows down.
Now, can co-trustees work?
Yes.
When there is alignment.
When there is clear division of responsibility.
When personalities complement each other.
When there is genuine trust — not just love.
But often, naming everyone “to be fair” creates a structure that magnifies personality differences instead of minimizing them.
Today, when we sit with clients to discuss trustee selection, we don’t start with fairness.
We start with function.
Who is organized?
Who has time?
Who can make decisions under pressure?
Who communicates well — especially when emotions are high?
Who can separate personal feelings from fiduciary duty?
Sometimes the right answer is one trustee.
Sometimes it’s one trustee with a clear mechanism for consultation.
Sometimes it’s a professional co-trustee to buffer family tension.
The goal isn’t to make everyone feel included in the title.
The goal is to make sure the plan works.
Because once you’re gone, your documents can’t mediate disputes.
They can only enforce structure.
And if the structure creates friction, the friction becomes the legacy.
I often tell clients:
“If you’re naming multiple trustees, make sure you’re doing it for efficiency — not emotion.”
Your children may love each other deeply.
But grief, money, and authority are a powerful combination.
Handled wisely, they can preserve harmony.
Handled casually, they can fracture it.
And no one wants “family lawsuit” to be the final chapter of their estate plan.