Passengers traveling through Newark Liberty International Airport on Monday were confronted with cancellations and hourslong delays as disruptions to air traffic there extended into a second week.

Low clouds on Monday prompted the Federal Aviation Administration to pause departures of planes heading to Newark, leading to delays averaging four hours and exacerbating the travel chaos at one of the nation’s busiest airports. More than 200 flights into and out of Newark had been delayed on Monday morning, according to the tracking site FlightAware.

Major flight disruptions started early last week, when the Philadelphia air traffic control center experienced equipment failures and staffing issues, the F.A.A. said. It came as one of Newark’s three runways has been closed for construction and as air traffic control centers nationwide have experienced staffing shortages. United said last week that it was forced to cut 35 round-trip flights per day from its Newark schedule.

The scene at the main United terminal at Newark on Monday was relatively calm, but travelers whose flights had been canceled expressed frustration with being directed to online customer service agents.

Senator Chuck Schumer of New York on Monday called for the Office of the Inspector General to investigate the problems at Newark, saying a “real forensic look” into safety issues and outdated technology was needed.

“To say that there is just minor turbulence at Newark Airport and the F.A.A. that would be the understatement of the year,” Mr. Schumer, the minority leader, said at a news conference. “We’re here because the F.A.A. is really a mess.”

He said the problems at Newark could be a “harbinger, if issues like these aren’t fixed.” He blamed mismanagement at the F.A.A. and cuts imposed by the Trump administration for the staffing issues, and warned that the nation’s other airports could experience similar problems if they are not addressed.

The Port Authority of New York and New Jersey, which operates Newark Airport as well as Kennedy International and LaGuardia Airports in New York, said in a statement on Monday that staffing shortages at air traffic control centers were to blame.

“The Port Authority has invested billions to modernize Newark Liberty, but those improvements depend on a fully staffed and modern federal air traffic system,” the Port Authority said. “We continue to urge the F.A.A. to address ongoing staffing shortages and accelerate long-overdue technology upgrades that continue to cause delays in the nation’s busiest air corridor.”

In a statement on Friday, Scott Kirby, the chief executive of United Airlines, Newark’s largest carrier, attributed recent flight cancellations to equipment failures and air traffic controllers who had “walked off the job.”

As a result, he added, there were “dozens of diverted flights, hundreds of delayed and canceled flights and worst of all, thousands of customers with disrupted travel plans.”

About 68 percent of the more than 3,300 scheduled departures at Newark this week were sold by United, according to Cirium, an aviation data firm.

It was not clear when the staffing and construction-related delays would clear up, and bad weather was likely to contribute to the headaches for travelers at Newark as well as at the other metro-area airports.

Low clouds and rain may limit flights in and out of the region until midweek. Rain may increase in intensity on Monday, with some thunderstorms also possible. The chance of showers will linger into Wednesday.

Judson Jones, Niraj Chokshi and Mark Walker contributed reporting.

Two independent medical practices in Minnesota once hoped to expand operations but have spent the past year struggling to recover from the cyberattack on a vast UnitedHealth Group payment system.

Odom Health & Wellness, a sports medicine and rehabilitation outfit, and the Dillman Clinic & Lab, a family medicine practice, are among the thousands of medical offices that experienced sudden financial turmoil last year. The cyberattack against Change Healthcare, a division of United, paralyzed much of the nation’s health-care payment system for months.

Change lent billions of dollars to medical practices that were short on cash but has begun demanding repayments.

Dillman and Odom are suing United in U.S. District Court in Minneapolis, accusing the corporation of negligence related to the cyberattack and claiming they sustained excessive expenses because of the attack’s fallout.

In addition, Odom and Dillman asserted in court filings that the company’s insurance arm, UnitedHealthcare, has in turn been denying claims to cover patient care for being submitted late.

Lawmakers viewed the chaos caused by the cyberattack as a result of United’s seemingly insatiable desire to buy up companies like Change, alongside doctors’ practices and pharmacy businesses. The widespread disruption was a reminder of how deeply United’s sprawling subsidiaries had become embedded in the nation’s health care system.

“This is yet another sign that the rapid consolidation of major health care companies has harmed, rather than helped, American patients and doctors,” Senator Ron Wyden, Democrat of Oregon, said of the financial bind that the cyberattack had placed on practices.

Last month, the American Medical Association sent a letter to Optum, the UnitedHealth division that owns Change, saying that it was concerned that many practices were being pressured to repay loans despite continued financial difficulties from the cyberattack.

Since March 2024, Change had provided $9 billion in interest-free loans to more than 10,000 medical providers, including $569,680 to Odom and $157,600 to Dillman.

A year later, roughly $5.5 billion had been repaid, United said in court filings. About 3,500 practices, including Odom, Dillman and six other plaintiffs in the lawsuits, had made no repayments as of April 1. Several other practices and patients have also filed suits against United.

In a statement, Change said it would “continue to actively work with providers to identify flexible repayment plans based on the individual circumstances of providers and their practices.”

It added, “We have also worked with UnitedHealthcare to ensure the claims it receives are reviewed in light of the challenges providers experienced, including waiving timely filing requirements for the plans under its control.”

Change compared its efforts to recoup loans to those by the Centers for Medicare and Medicaid Services. After the cyberattack, C.M.S. provided accelerated payments to practices to cover Medicare billings delayed by the cyberattack. It has since garnished Medicare claims to recoup the funds.

In court filings, United cited data showing that only a small percentage of Odom’s and Dillman’s health care claims were rejected for being “untimely,” although those denials increased after the cyberattack.

Calling the plaintiffs’ motions a “collective shakedown,” UnitedHealth has also requested that the district court reject their request for an injunction against repayment of loans, arguing that they did not have the right to interfere in its business with thousands of other loan recipients.

An injunction, United argued, could be used by other medical practices to “hold hostage billions of dollars.”

Dr. Megan Dillman, who specializes in pediatrics and internal medicine, said she had opened her Lakeville, Minn., practice in 2022 to “bring the joy back to medicine.” She said she spent far more time with patients than the spartan 15 minutes that corporate health care operations have increasingly required of their doctors.

“I have some patients where I don’t think they would be here today if we didn’t exist,” Dr. Dillman said, citing cancers she had detected that had been missed by more hurried doctors.

Her husband, Richard Dillman, runs the business side of the practice. He called United’s repayment demands “a kick in the teeth.”

“I’d rather go through the Special Forces qualification course back to back — to back to back — than ever do this again,” said Mr. Dillman, a former Green Beret.

At the time of the cyberattack, Change’s medical-billing clearinghouse processed about 45 percent of the nation’s health care transactions, or about $2 trillion annually. The company had to take its services offline in February 2024 to contain damage from the attack, halting much of the health care system’s cash flow and unleashing chaos.

The associated breach of private information was the largest reported in U.S. health-care history. In January, United increased the reported number of people whose personal data had been exposed to 190 million from 100 million.

The U.S. Department of Health and Human Services’s Office of Civil Rights opened an investigation into the ransomware attack in March 2024. An agency spokesperson stated that it “does not generally comment on current or open investigations.” Some health care companies have been fined for breaches involving patient data.

Company officials have said that the hackers infiltrated Change’s systems by obtaining compromised login credentials and using a portal for entry that did not require multifactor authentication.

United officials confirmed that the company had paid a $22 million ransom to the Russian cybercriminals who claimed responsibility. The corporation reported in a January earnings report that the cyberattack had by then cost $3.1 billion.

Health care reimbursements didn’t begin to channel relatively freely through Change until June 2024, although United said that some of its systems had taken longer to come back online and that a few were still not at 100 percent.

At congressional hearings in May 2024, senators slammed Andrew Witty, United’s chief executive, for how the company had handled the cyberattack and the disruption it caused thousands of providers. Mr. Witty testified that the company had “no intention of asking for repayment until providers determine their business is back to normal.”

The loan terms stipulated that Change would not demand repayment until “after claims processing and/or payment processing services and payments impacted during the service disruption period are being processed.”

The meaning of “being processed” is now at the center of the court cases.

Change began seeking repayment from Dillman and Odom through what the medical practices characterized in court filings as a succession of increasingly aggressive letters. Both practices told Change they were unable to repay and neither accepted repayment plan offers. Change then in January demanded full repayment and threatened to withhold future reimbursements for patients’ health care.

“It’s disappointing but not surprising that UnitedHealth Group has decided to prioritize its bottom line over the well-being of families and small businesses,” said Mr. Wyden, who led the Senate hearing on the cyberattack.

The A.M.A. called upon the company to negotiate “an individualized, realistic repayment plan” with each practice.

Dr. Catherine Mazzola, who runs a pediatric neurology and neurosurgery practice in New Jersey, is among many others who have also battled with United over the loans.

“Optum, in my opinion, is acting like a loan shark trying to rapidly collect,” Dr. Mazzola, who is not a plaintiff in the lawsuits against United, said of the division that owns Change.

Dr. Mazzola received a $535,000 loan, and she said she had later told Change she could not repay it. She proposed a schedule but received no response. So she began paying $10,000 a month in January. But without any warning, she said, United began garnishing her reimbursements.

A United spokesman disputed her account, saying demand for full repayment would not occur without warning but after months of efforts to negotiate a plan.

Today, Dr. Odom employs about 110 people, many of whom provide rehab to older people in assisted-living facilities. If his practice had to repay the Change loan immediately, his lawsuit asserted, he would have to lay off at least 22 staff members. Dr. Odom said that could prompt assisted-living chains to drop his services and cause more financial harm.

“We face an uphill battle as such a small company,” said Dr. Meghan Klein, Odom’s president. Speaking to the gulf between her company’s finances and United’s, she said: “What is little impact to them is huge impact to us. These are a lot of people’s lives that we’re worried about.”

The Dillman Clinic, which derives about one-quarter of its income from United insurance reimbursements, would face bankruptcy if forced to fully repay its loan, according to its lawsuit.

Having leveraged their house, their cars and their retirement accounts against their practice, the Dillmans would lose all of their assets to bankruptcy, including their home, they said.

“Part of the goal of being here is to have control over my schedule,” Dr. Dillman said. But the cyberattack-driven chaos has consumed the couple’s time, leaving little for their 6-year-old daughter.

“There are days I see her for an hour,” Dr. Dillman said. “I’m missing her childhood.”

Treasury Secretary Scott Bessent urged skittish global business leaders on Monday to ignore President Trump’s economic naysayers and ramp up investment in the United States, defending an economic agenda that economists warn will slow economic growth and exacerbate inflation.

Speaking to executives, entrepreneurs and policymakers, Mr. Bessent argued that the Trump administration’s economic plans go beyond trade policy and will pay off in the long run. He urged them to also focus on Mr. Trump’s plans to cut taxes and regulation, which he said would spur job creation and output.

“Tariffs are engineered to encourage companies like yours to invest directly in the United States,” Mr. Bessent said in remarks at the Milken Institute Global Conference in Los Angeles. “You’ll be glad you did — not only because we have the most productive work force in the world. But because we will soon have the most favorable tax and regulatory environment as well.”

His comments came just hours after Mr. Trump ordered up new tariffs on foreign film producers, a decision that left many in Hollywood puzzled about how such a tax would work.

The Treasury secretary has been working to ease concerns among investors that Mr. Trump’s trade plans will destabilize the global economy. Last month the president levied tariffs on countries around the world and escalated a trade fight with China, which sent financial markets plunging.

Since then, Mr. Bessent has been racing to negotiate trade deals with dozens of countries. He has also signaled that the China tariffs are not sustainable, offering hope that Mr. Trump would soon begin negotiations to lower them.

”Our goal with trade policy is to level the playing field for our great American workers and companies,” Mr. Bessent said.

The Trump administration is working closely with congressional Republicans on tax legislation that would extend the 2017 tax cuts and offer new tax breaks for overtime pay, tips and Social Security benefits. Mr. Bessent made the case on Monday that investors need to consider the broader agenda when thinking about where to park their money.

Describing Mr. Trump’s policies as “mutually reinforcing,” Mr. Bessent said, “acting in concert, they push toward the same goal — to solidify our position as the home of global capital.”

Investors have grown increasingly wary of Mr. Trump’s policies in recent months, with stocks, bonds and the dollar all showing signs of weakness as fund managers fret over the uncertainty surrounding Mr. Trump’s policymaking approach.

The International Monetary Fund projected last month that global output would slow to 2.8 percent this year from 3.3 percent in 2024 and sharply downgraded its outlook for the U.S. economy.

On Monday, Mr. Bessent said that Mr. Trump would prove “critics in establishment circles” wrong.

“We have the world’s reserve currency, the deepest and most liquid markets, and the strongest property rights,” Mr. Bessent said. “For these reasons, the United States is the premier destination for international capital.”

Times Insider explains who we are and what we do and delivers behind-the-scenes insights into how our journalism comes together.

It’s not every day that a person asks a total stranger deeply intimate questions about their life, career and goals. But there I was, on the phone with someone I had found on the internet. And I had big questions, like, “How much money have you saved?” “Why did you quit your job?” And, “What exactly do you want to do with your life?”

Even before becoming a journalist, I have been ceaselessly curious — probably uncouthly so — about the philosophies people hold when it comes to their jobs, routines and money. I am the passerby who cannot resist glancing into people’s living room windows if the blinds are up. But aren’t we all? I like to think there are gems to be gleaned when people are honest about their successes and troubles, especially when it comes to finances and work.

So I perked up when the term “micro-retirement” — essentially a career timeout — came across my social media feeds a few months ago. Anecdotally, I had also heard stories of people, largely corporate professionals, who had quit their jobs to travel, work on a side project or spend more time with family. As a reporter who covers breaking news and digital trends for The New York Times, part of my job involves keeping an eye on online shifts in global conversations.

But if people were leaving their jobs in these uncertain economic times, how were they planning it? Why were they doing it? And the million-dollar question (no pun intended): How were they funding it?

I began scouring social media for mentions of mini-retirements and asked around my own social network. My editor, Joel Petterson, and I agreed that we wanted to find people from a diversity of industries who had used their hiatus for different experiences. I also wanted to find people who would be transparent about their finances.

But talking about money can be difficult. Some people I initially spoke to were reluctant to talk about their experiences publicly, perhaps out of fear that strangers on the internet would criticize their choices.

On social media, I eventually found Marina Kausar, who had worked in finance and technology and had taken three months off in 2023 to decompress. I found another source on Reddit, where she described her career break in glowing terms. They and others I spoke to expressed a similar sentiment: They were unhappy, overworked or otherwise unfulfilled in their daily grind. They were worried about what their retirements would look like, given factors like climate change, the economy and their own physical health. So they had decided to take a career hiatus.

I wanted to learn more about this pivotal juncture in the lives of younger workers, and how they had saved up for it, so I reached out to labor trend researchers. That’s how I found Kira Schabram, an assistant professor of organizational behavior at the University of Washington who has studied sabbaticals.

In a study she conducted with 50 professionals between the ages of 20 and 40, she found that many of the workers returned from their sabbaticals with a greater sense of confidence or better work-life balance, or had turned their time off into a drastic career change. But many had also reached a level of financial stability, or had reached a high point in their careers, before they made the leap. I had to wonder if many of these retirees had benefited from familial wealth and whether this trend was confined to the super wealthy.

But that didn’t seem to be the case for some people I spoke to. Some said they were happy to forgo paying student loans or burn through their savings if it meant feeling a freedom they hadn’t felt since they were children: precious time spent with family members living far away, or mornings meandering hiking trails that would normally be spent under office lights.

As I was writing the article, anxieties over the economy and the stock market were spiking. I wrote and rewrote, in my mission to explore some of the complicated feelings micro-retirees had about their time off.

When the article was published, I expected some skepticism around the feasibility of mini-retirements and warnings about their longer-term costs. After all, it’s hard to take even a micro-weekend if you’re living paycheck to paycheck or don’t have access to health care.

What took me by surprise were comments from people old and young who wanted to share the lessons they had learned after a life of work. One person recounted a decision to step back from work after watching a parent grind up the corporate ladder; he passed from brain cancer shortly after retirement. Other people said they had taken advantage of medical leave policies to treat their burnout and wondered if the issues were harder to solve than simply taking time away.

“Death is coming either way,” one commenter wrote. “We might as well take risks and see if we can make our lives better by trying something different.”

Reading those comments, I’ve found myself contemplating the same questions in the bustle of the evening commute home. Since age 15, I have worked, part time or full time, in one job or another: dishwasher at a local cafe, tutor for high school students, translator, reporter.

When, if ever, would it be a good time to step away? It’s a question I might need a weekend, or maybe even longer, to mull.

John Mulaney describes his weekly Netflix talk show as “a throwback in some ways.” Indeed, it seems to draw inspiration from numerous 20th-century late-night hosts, from Dick Cavett to David Letterman to Conan O’Brien.

“It’s almost like the way you might remember a bunch of shows from the past, but it’s not exactly what they were like,” Mr. Mulaney said in an interview from his sun-soaked office in Hollywood. He was between meetings, gearing up for the latest episode of his show, “Everybody’s Live,” which appears Wednesdays at 10 p.m. Eastern.

“No element is new,” he added, “but the way they’re being laid out might feel a little bit.”

Mr. Mulaney’s show represents an important test in the entertainment industry: Can the traditional talk show format — with an opening monologue, celebrity guests, live musical performances, a sidekick — survive in the streaming era?

Or is the future of talk shows something quite different, and much more like … podcasts?

As the television industry has leaped to streaming, many old genres have come along. Prestige dramas, crime documentaries, reality TV, stand-up specials and even soap operas have successfully crossed over. But not talk shows.

Even on traditional network and cable TV, ratings for late-night talk shows are down, and advertising revenue has plummeted. The number of shows is falling, too, so much so that last year’s Emmy Awards had one nominee fewer because of a lack of submissions. This fall, CBS will forgo programming its 12:30 a.m. slot, the first time in three decades that the network will not have an original talk show in that wee hour.

“Of all the legacy broadcast day parts — morning shows, evening news, late night — late night might be the first one headed for the wood chipper,” said Jim Bell, a former showrunner of “The Tonight Show” on NBC and now a senior executive for the 2028 Summer Olympics in Los Angeles. “It’s expensive to make, tough to monetize and no longer appointment viewing. It’s still got cultural juice, but from a business standpoint, it’s the most vulnerable.”

As recently as 2018, the five broadcast network late-night shows — hosted by Stephen Colbert, Jimmy Fallon, Jimmy Kimmel, James Corden and Seth Meyers — drew an estimated $439 million in combined advertising revenue, according to Guideline, an advertising data firm.

By 2022, that figure had fallen to $277 million, Guideline said. Last year, it plunged to $220.6 million, nearly a 50 percent decline from 2018.

Late-night hosts remain big-time celebrities, however, something that complicates the equation for media executives.

“The hosts still matter,” Mr. Bell said.

Other kinds of talk shows are doing perfectly well.

“Hot Ones,” a digital celebrity interview series conducted over spicy chicken wings, is a bona fide hit, and a bidding war for its streaming rights is expected this year. Jon Stewart’s once-a-week return to “The Daily Show” last year has been a boon for Comedy Central, minting viral moments and driving higher ratings.

Additionally, many podcasts film their shows and find large audiences on YouTube. In fact, YouTube has surpassed Spotify and Apple as the top platform for podcasts, according to several studies.

Since last year, podcast stars have signed the sort of media megadeals that used to be reserved for late-night hosts, celebrity news anchors, big producers or the cast of “Friends.” Those deals include Joe Rogan (reportedly $250 million), Alex Cooper ($125 million), the three hosts of “SmartLess” ($100 million) and the brothers Jason and Travis Kelce (another $100 million).

Mr. O’Brien quietly left late night four years ago but has had a career renaissance — including what will be back-to-back hosting gigs at the Oscars — thanks to his podcast, “Conan O’Brien Needs a Friend.” (A wildly popular appearance on “Hot Ones” last year did not hurt, either.)

“The lines between podcasts and talk shows are getting pretty blurry,” Ted Sarandos, co-chief executive of Netflix, mused during a recent earnings call. So much so that he added, “As the popularity of video podcasts grow, I suspect you will see some of them find their way to Netflix.”

Before Mr. Mulaney’s show, which premiered in March, Netflix appeared to have gotten out of the traditional talk show format altogether.

Star comedians like Chelsea Handler, Norm Macdonald, Joel McHale and Michelle Wolf all hosted talk shows on Netflix that came and went in the late 2010s. Sarah Silverman’s show on Hulu was canceled after two seasons, and even Mr. Stewart had a show (for Apple TV+) that had difficulty gaining traction.

Part of the problem could be that a format that worked for a long time in traditional television may not work in a new medium.

“On digital platforms, like YouTube or a TikTok, talent is connecting with an audience just like how talent would connect with an audience on linear television — but the way you’re doing it is very different,” said Chris Licht, a former executive producer of “The Late Show” on CBS and a former chairman of CNN. “So the format has to adjust.”

Mr. Mulaney, a renowned stand-up comedian and comedy writer, wound up hosting a talk show almost by accident. During the Netflix Is a Joke comedy festival last May, he was assigned to produce a nightly live show, one that could host the many comedic legends in Los Angeles during the event.

Mr. Mulaney originally envisioned a show that would be a bit “like MTV,” he said, where the host would serve as a sort of V.J., introducing one comic and then the next. He decided he could host it himself, and before long, the concept started to morph into the show’s current iteration.

“Then it became like, well, people can come out and I’ll talk to them, and then they’ll sit there,” Mr. Mulaney said. “Then I’m interviewing people, and we’re doing bits. Like, we couldn’t have backed into it in a more convoluted way.”

Robbie Praw, Netflix’s vice president of stand-up and comedy formats, said in an interview that the company had not initially been “looking or aspiring to do another talk show.” It was more interested “in being in the John Mulaney business” than in talk shows generally, he said, adding, “John is so singular.”

The first season of the show, called “Everybody’s in LA,” ran for all of six episodes but was a huge critical hit. Netflix went ahead and ordered 12 episodes for this year and changed the name to “Everybody’s Live.”

There has been no shortage of big-name guests. Mr. Letterman, Mr. O’Brien, Tina Fey, Bill Hader and Ben Stiller, among other comedic superstars, have appeared this season.

And though the show loosely follows one theme (planning a funeral, borrowing money, getting fired), Mr. Mulaney is not following in the footsteps of Mr. Colbert or John Oliver and dedicating much of the show to the current political news cycle.

“I was kind of like, what type of show do I want to watch?” Mr. Mulaney said. “And it is not — because the ground is well covered by great people — a topical ‘Can you believe sociopolitical story of the day?’”

The performance of “Everybody’s Live” could be a key piece of evidence to determine whether streaming executives will keep taking a stab at the format or stop altogether. Mr. Mulaney strongly suggested that he would be interested in doing another season.

It is not clear how the show is performing, but critical attention has been more muted this season. The first episode appeared in Netflix’s daily 10 most-watched TV series in the United States, but the show has not returned in the subsequent seven weeks.

Mr. Praw, the Netflix executive, said he was “extremely, extremely excited about the creative direction of the show.” He pointed to one comedic bit in April — roughly two dozen men standing onstage side by side, ranging from five to seven feet tall — while Mr. Letterman looked on as a guest.

“I had goose bumps in that moment because it had echoes of everything I used to love about David Letterman,” Mr. Praw said. “And there sat David Letterman on the couch during that. What a special moment”

He said Netflix was not prepared, however, to announce anything yet about a potential third season.

“Every show we’ve ever done we want more people to watch,” he said.

It was closing in on 1 p.m. here when Warren Buffett, seated onstage before a rapt audience of about 40,000 at the CHI Health Center, said that he was getting a “5-minute warning.”

To most of those gathered here for the annual meeting of Berkshire Hathaway, his company, it was simply a signal that the annual gathering — known as “Woodstock for capitalists — was drawing to a close. The crowd, a mix of seasoned investors and wide-eyed newcomers, didn’t know they were about to witness a historic moment.

But the second Mr. Buffett mentioned the five-minute warning, I knew something big was coming. For a decade, I had the privilege of sitting on that stage with other journalists, posing questions to him — and for so many years, his late business partner Charlie Munger — on behalf of shareholders and the wider public. He had never noted the time like that before.

Which meant that the large television monitors facing him onstage, which show real-time transcriptions of questions being posed by the audience, were now showing a countdown to words that we all had expected for years, but never knew when they would come.

After 60 years of running the company he has described as his “painting,” Buffett was about to surprise Berkshire investors — as well as his own board and his heir apparent, Greg Abel — that he planned to step down as chief executive at year end. “I want to spring that on the directors,” he said with a smile.

Even before the announcement, unease visibly rippled through the audience section where Berkshire directors and Mr. Buffett’s closest friends sat. (Among those in attendance were Bill Gates, the former American Express chief executive Ken Chenault and Hillary Clinton, with Tim Cook of Apple having left an hour beforehand.) Afterward, some exchanged glances, full of sadness and understanding; others appeared genuinely shocked.

Then, people in the crowd, many of whom were in tears, rose from their seats in a standing ovation for a singular figure in the business world.

Mr. Buffett, who turns 95 in August, is often described as a symbol of American capitalism. In truth, he is an outlier. He is more the conscience of capitalism, willing to speak uncomfortable truths about the system’s ills while others remained silent. (His public comments on issues like tariffs over the weekend are a prime example.)

The billionaire always comes across as a gentleman, and in an age of distrust he has become a trusted figure. Fellow business moguls and government officials admire him because of his success, yes — Berkshire reported $89 billion in net profit last year, and it is one of the biggest buyers of U.S. Treasury bonds — but also because he has appeared unchanged by wealth. He lives in a modest house in Omaha, and for years drove his own car, including to the drive-through at McDonald’s.

He isn’t perfect, something he would acknowledge, and urged his followers to stay humble as he discussed his own investing misses (what he called his “sins of omission”). But that also got to one of his biggest accomplishments, using his annual Berkshire letters and marathon Q&A sessions with shareholders to educate generations about business, investing and life itself.

After the announcement, I was struck by a social media post from someone I wouldn’t have considered to be a Buffett watcher, who perfectly encapsulated the importance of Mr. Buffett and Mr. Munger. “They were the good investors, dealers in reality, patient,” wrote Nick Denton, the founder of Gawker. “When the history of the rise and fall of America is written, one of the chapters will begin in Omaha, with their departure.”

(Mr. Buffett’s plan to step down was only a matter of time once Mr. Munger had died. Those who know the Berkshire chief will tell you how much the loss of his longtime friend has weighed on him. Consider that this year, Mr. Buffett chose not to run the short movie that traditionally introduces the annual meeting, in part because so many of the previous ones featured the two of them.)

But as Mr. Buffett prepares to depart, the big question is: What will happen to his masterpiece once it passes to Mr. Abel?

It has been apparent for several years now that on a day-to-day basis, Mr. Abel is already running large swaths of Berkshire’s operations, so the shift likely won’t be dramatic. But the scrutiny of “Abel’s Berkshire” will undoubtedly increase: The company wasn’t built just as a collection of disparate businesses, but as the vision of one man.

No matter what Mr. Buffett says about his handpicked successor’s qualifications — and he has been unstinting with praise — investors will likely withhold their judgment until they see the results. As Erik Gordon, a professor at the Ross School of Business at the University of Michigan, put it, “Taking over from Buffett is harder than taking over from Superman.”

Mr. Abel has said he will seek to maintain the culture that his boss meticulously built. But things will inevitably become different. Berkshire’s board gave Mr. Buffett an unparalleled degree of autonomy to operate as he saw fit, often learning about significant deals he had struck only after the fact. And Mr. Buffett rarely relied on the legions of bankers, accountants and consultants that are standard advisers to large corporations — it allowed him to move with remarkable speed and decisiveness.

Mr. Abel will have to work hard to earn even some of that latitude, and under him Berkshire is likely to operate with more guardrails. But there is speculation that Mr. Buffett will remain chairman for some period, which could afford Mr. Abel more freedom as he grows into the top job. (Eventually, Howard Buffett, Mr. Buffett’s elder son, is expected to take over as nonexecutive chairman.)

Then there is the question of what happens to the Berkshire annual meeting itself, which each year draws tens of thousands to Omaha for the chance to hear from Mr. Buffett. The event has created a powerful halo effect for the company and its stock, for the city, too, and for Berkshire-owned businesses like NetJets, Nebraska Furniture Mart and the jeweler Borsheim’s. Will Mr. Buffett continue to speak at it? Will shareholders continue to make the pilgrimage if he does not?

As the crowd filed out of the CHI Health Center, past the booths of Berkshire-owned businesses promoting their wares, there was the palpable sense of an era’s end. Mr. Buffett’s five-minute warning had arrived, and the investment world won’t be quite the same.