When “One Day This Will All Be Yours” Becomes a Lawsuit

Richard v Richard [2026] NSWSC 478 and the dangers of informal farm succession planning

There’s a sentence that gets repeated on Australian farms every day:

“One day this will all be yours.”

Usually it’s said over the bonnet of a ute, the kitchen table or during a quiet drink at the end of a full day. Rarely is it written down. Rarely is there a clear plan around timing, structure, retirement, fairness between siblings, or what happens if relationships deteriorate.

The recent New South Wales Supreme Court decision in Richard v Richard [2026] NSWSC 478 is one of the clearest modern examples of what happens when decades of assumptions, sacrifice and succession discussions are never properly resolved.

For anyone advising farming families, or living as part of one, it’s an important read.

The basic facts

The case involved a family farming operation known as “Cooinda” in rural New South Wales.

The son, Geoffrey, worked on the family farm for decades. Like most rural producers, he worked long hours, undertook significant responsibility, developed skills, improved the property and largely structured his life around the farming business.

Importantly, he did so:

• without commercial wages,
• without building significant independent assets, and
• in reliance on repeated discussions and conduct indicating that he would ultimately take over the farm.

There were succession planning meetings with accountants. There were partnership restructures. There were wills prepared leaving the farm effectively to Geoffrey. There were repeated conversations about “carrying on the Richard legacy”.

The parents later argued:

• no binding promise had been made,
• ownership would only pass on death, and
• any arrangement was conditional on Geoffrey continuing to behave appropriately and support them in retirement.

By the time the matter reached the Supreme Court, the family relationship had completely broken down.

Why Geoffrey won

The case was not about contract law. It was about equitable estoppel and constructive trust principles.

In simple terms, the Court asked:

• Did the parents create or encourage an assumption that Geoffrey would receive the farm?
• Did Geoffrey rely on that assumption?
• Did he suffer detriment because of that reliance?
• Would it now be unconscionable to let the parents walk away from it?

Justice Slattery answered yes.

The Court accepted that Geoffrey had:

• forgone outside opportunities,
• contributed years of underpaid labour,
• shaped his life around the farming enterprise, and
• reasonably relied on what he had been led to believe would occur.

One of the most important parts of the judgment is that the Court did not treat the succession discussions as vague “family hopes”.

The Court looked carefully at accountant meetings, partnership structures, tax planning discussions, wills, repeated family conversations, and the practical reality of how the farm operated.

Collectively, they created enforceable expectations.

The most dangerous phrase in succession planning: “later”

What makes this case particularly interesting is that nobody appears to have clearly resolved timing.

There was discussion about transferring the farm after tax losses were used, debt reduction, retirement and eventual succession.

But nobody pinned down:

• when transfer would occur,
• on what terms,
• what retirement actually meant,
• what financial support the parents required, or
• how fairness between children would be achieved.

That gap became fatal.

Where families leave ambiguity, courts are often forced to reconstruct intentions years later from conversations, conduct and imperfect memories.

That is an extraordinarily expensive way to do succession planning.

The hidden pressure point: unpaid family labour

This case also highlights one of the biggest structural risks in farming families.

Often one child stays on the farm, accepts lower income, works extreme hours, delays wealth accumulation and effectively subsidises the business through their labour.

Meanwhile, siblings build careers, superannuation, homes and independent wealth elsewhere.

Families frequently describe this as “It will all balance out later.”

But if “later” is never properly documented, the farm child carries enormous legal and emotional risk.

Courts are increasingly willing to recognise that an unpaid or underpaid contribution can amount to substantial detriment when linked to succession assurances.

What I think advisors often miss

The judgment contains a subtle but very important insight.

The real conflict was not simply legal.

It was structural.

The son’s future depended entirely on trust and future promises. The parents retained all control, all ownership and financial certainty. The son carried much of the operational burden without corresponding security.

That imbalance can survive for years while relationships are good.

But once conflict emerges, the structure itself becomes unstable.

Good succession planning is not just about tax.

It is also about:

• certainty,
• dignity,
• autonomy,
• retirement expectations,
• role transition,
• and preserving relationships before resentment hardens.

The practical lessons

For farming families, this case is a warning.

If there is an expectation that one child will inherit the farm, one child is contributing below market rates or transition will occur during lifetime, then that needs to be addressed deliberately and documented properly.

Not “one day”.

Not “when the time comes”.

Not “everyone knows what’s happening”.

Actual planning.

That does not always mean immediate transfer. In many cases, it should not.

But it does mean:

• clear succession frameworks,
• transparent communication,
• defined retirement arrangements,
• realistic financial modelling, and
• legal structures that match the family’s actual intentions.

Because if they do not, Courts may eventually have to do it instead. And Courts are very expensive succession planners.