‘AI can handle the paperwork, the imagination stays human’: Patek Philippe president

MILAN – Asked what single question no journalist has thrown at him all day, the man running horology’s most hallowed family firm leans forward and deadpans without missing a beat: “Where are the toilets?”

Thierry Stern lets the laughter subside before adding: “Actually, I thought someone might ask: When will you stop working?”

At 56, the fourth-generation Swiss head of Patek Philippe knows he will eventually have to make room for his two sons. But he has plenty he still wants to do.

“Not now. Definitely not now,” he says.

Speaking to journalists at Patek’s Watch Art Grand Exhibition Milan 2026 in the Italian city, where historic and contemporary watches share the spotlight with artisans demonstrating their craft, Stern is frank about technology, collectors and succession.

In an era enchanted by algorithms, his core mission is keeping his watchmaking resolutely human.

While happy to let artificial intelligence sort his paperwork, giving it the keys to his imagination is another matter.

“I am not ready to give half of my shares to a computer,” he says.

“We’ve tried it, played with it. You see many things, but it is not us. It is not my soul, it is not my DNA. Even if it is beautiful, I will not be able to look at you and say we did it.”

For Stern, the exhibition gives visitors something a screen cannot: a close look at the watches and a chance to meet the people who make them.

“People think what they see on their screen is real today. You can see an image while sitting on your couch with an iPad, but you don’t feel it. You don’t talk with the people. Here, your eyes look at reality,” he says.

He hopes visitors leave with a deeper appreciation of authentic handcraft, even if their next timepiece comes from a rival.

“It will give you confidence to invest in a fine watch, and maybe not a Patek.”

That apparent generosity is grounded in shrewd commercial realism. In an industry dominated by corporate luxury conglomerates, Patek Philippe has remained staunchly independent since Stern’s family acquired it in 1932, during the Great Depression.

Stern, who joined in 1990 and succeeded his father Philippe in 2009, wears that pedigree without patrician airs. He knows his business cannot rely on snobbery to survive.

“Nobody needs a Patek,” he points out with a grin. “We are in a world where it is just passion.”

But managing that passion is an art in itself. With demand far outstripping supply, collectors clamour for allocations and retailers reflexively hoard coveted models for their biggest spenders. Stern has been pushing them to break the habit and cultivate the next generation instead.

“Take the risk,” he tells his dealers, urging them to sell to younger, unfamiliar local buyers who walk through the door. “You have to tell the collector: ‘Sorry, sir, this year you can only have one or two, because I am keeping the other one for the newcomer.’ Don’t just blame me and say Patek didn’t produce enough.”

He is equally impatient with market hyperbole. Record-smashing auction prices leave him cold, especially when headlines reduce meticulous craftsmanship to mere financial speculation.

“When we sold that piece for 31 million Swiss francs, people said, ‘Ah, 31 million!’” he sighs, referencing the record-breaking Grandmaster Chime auctioned for charity in 2019. “I am happy, but come on, that is not Patek. We are known for our movements, our finishing, our innovation, not for the price.”

Now, succession looms on the horizon. His sons Adrien and Tristan, who are in their 20s, represent the fifth generation, currently steeping themselves in the maison’s intricacies. But unlike his late father, who held the reins into his late 70s, Stern plans an earlier exit.

He says: “I am not going to wait as long as my dad. I want to enjoy life a little bit, and I have to leave space for the next generation. I will be there to help them, but at one point, I will have to let it go.”

Asked what legacy he hopes to leave, he offers an answer that has little to do with production figures or auction prices.

“Pleasure and kindness,” he says.

“The rest – the quality, the movements – they know already.”

What he hopes his sons will preserve is a company where people enjoy their work and their relationships with one another.

“We are still human,” he says. “We still have fun.”