The crowd started queuing outside the CHI Health Center before dawn, just like they have for decades. Grandparents in creased Berkshire t-shirts, finance bros quoting The Snowball, college students nervously clutching copies of Security Analysis, and everyday investors who came just to say thank you. At 94, Warren Buffett still draws them in. Only this time, the undertone was different. This was not just another annual meeting. This was the meeting on may 3rd 2025 in Omaha, Nebraska.
Warren Edward Buffett, the man who turned a failing textile mill into a $900 billion conglomerate, announced that he would step down as CEO of Berkshire Hathaway by the end of 2025. The soft-spoken, ever-patient investing sage is finally handing the reins to his long-time heir apparent, Greg Abel—a calm, methodical Canadian who has spent years studying the company like a devoted monk at a temple.
“I’m not disappearing,” Buffett said with a wry smile, the crowd chuckling. “I’ll still be around… I just won’t be the guy signing the checks.”
But the moment hung heavy. It was, by Buffett’s standards, monumental.
One Last Lesson in Temperament
Before any mention of succession, Buffett—as ever—got down to business.
Berkshire’s first-quarter earnings were up 39%, but Buffett didn’t crow. Instead, he pointed to something even more staggering: a record $347.7 billion in cash reserves. To him, the number wasn’t just a brag—it was a statement of principle.
“We haven’t seen anything that meets our bar,” Buffett said. “It’s not about the size of the pile. It’s about being ready when the world gets irrational.”
His restraint felt almost alien in a market still buzzing with AI hype, crypto spikes, and zero-day IPO euphoria. While others chase, Buffett parks billions in short-term Treasurys and waits.
And when asked if Berkshire planned to buy back shares?
“We haven’t done a single repurchase this year,” he said flatly. “Price matters. Discipline matters.”
Greg Abel and the $348 Billion Inheritance
Buffett’s successor is not flashy. He doesn’t tweet. He doesn’t headline conferences. He barely gives interviews. But Greg Abel, who currently oversees all of Berkshire’s non-insurance businesses, is widely respected for his operational rigor and loyalty to Buffett’s ethos of quiet stewardship.
“He understands capital allocation, but more importantly, he understands human behavior,” Buffett said.
Abel’s soft-spoken demeanor belies the sheer magnitude of what he’s about to take over: a decentralized empire of 383,000 employees, over 60 subsidiaries (including BNSF Railway, Geico, and Dairy Queen), and nearly half a trillion in assets. Oh, and did we mention the $348 billion in cash?
“I don’t envy the weight of that responsibility,” one shareholder whispered as Abel took the mic briefly. But Abel kept it simple: “I’ve learned from the best. And I plan to keep learning.”
A Grieving, Grateful Tribute to Charlie Munger
The absence of Charlie Munger, who passed away in November 2023 at age 99, was palpable.
For over five decades, Munger was Buffett’s partner-in-rationality—part philosopher, part wit, part conscience. In past meetings, their banter was the stuff of legend. This year, Buffett sat alone at center stage.
“I owe Charlie more than I could ever say,” he said, his voice catching for the first time all day. “He taught me to think in systems, to look past what everyone else is chasing, and to never forget the importance of ethics in capitalism.”
He paused. “If there’s a Heaven for value investors, Charlie’s probably teaching a seminar.”
On Tariffs, AI—and Washington’s Fiscal Hangover
While most of the meeting was focused on business, Buffett took time to comment on global affairs.
On tariffs: “They’re a weapon. And like most weapons, you better think twice before you use them. Trade is not a zero-sum game.”
On U.S. debt: “Washington has gotten used to writing blank checks. That doesn’t end well. Sooner or later, the math wins.”
On artificial intelligence: “The tech’s amazing. The danger’s real. It can make fakes so good you won’t believe your own eyes—or your own mother’s voice on the phone.”
He shared a chilling story about AI-generated scams targeting Berkshire shareholders. “What we’ve seen so far is just a trailer,” he warned.
The Man Who Bet on America—and Won
The final stretch of the meeting felt more like a valediction than a Q&A.
Buffett recalled his first stock purchase at age 11. He quoted Ben Graham, name-dropped See’s Candy, and even teased his usual McDonald’s breakfast order ($3.61, sausage and egg, no hash browns). The arena laughed. And then grew quiet as he looked across the sea of loyal shareholders.
“Look,” he said plainly, “I’ve been lucky. Born in the right place, at the right time. But America still gives people a chance—if you’re patient, if you stay rational, and if you love what you do.”
Buffett leaves behind not just a company, but a philosophy: that risk is what happens when you don’t know what you’re doing, that temperament is more important than intelligence, and that the long term—when everyone else is living in the next five minutes—is where true wealth is made.
No Gold Watch, Just Compound Interest
As the crowd filtered out into the Omaha sun, many were still digesting the weight of what they’d witnessed. Buffett’s era is ending—not with a bang, but with the same soft-spoken dignity that defined his rise.
No victory laps. No corporate jets. Just a man who turned compounding into a way of life, and reminded the rest of us that slow is smooth—and smooth is fast.
And now, the torch passes. Carefully. Quietly. Exactly as he planned.
