I remember standing outside a meeting room seven years ago, frustrated and fuming. I’d just watched my carefully researched proposal get dismissed in under five minutes, whilst a senior colleague’s half-baked suggestion was immediately embraced. The difference? Their title. Their seat at the table. Their authority.

“If only I had their position,” I thought, “then people would listen.”

I was wrong. Completely, fundamentally wrong. And it took me years and several promotions to realise it.

The thing about influence is that we spend so much time waiting for it to be granted to us – a better title, a corner office, the right to be in certain rooms – that we miss the influence we already have. We confuse authority with influence, volume with impact, position with power.

I wasted years this way. Literally years. I’d sit in meetings mentally cataloguing what I’d do differently “when I had authority.” I’d draft elaborate plans for “when I was running this team.” I was so focused on the influence I’d have someday that I completely missed the influence I could be building right then.

It’s embarrassing to admit, but I genuinely believed that a promotion would solve my influence problem. As if people would suddenly find my ideas more compelling because my email signature changed.

Then I got the promotion. And nothing changed. In fact, in some ways it got harder. The stakes were higher, the problems more complex, the organisational dynamics more challenging. I had the authority on paper, but I still couldn’t get buy-in for the things that mattered.

Meanwhile, I was watching with fascination as certain people across the company – some quite junior – seemed to have this ability to rally support for their ideas without any formal authority. There was a UX designer on our team who constantly influenced product decisions not because of her title, but because she’d built incredible relationships with engineers and stakeholders. She took time to understand their constraints, communicated with clarity, and consistently delivered on her commitments.

That’s when I started to realise: authority and influence aren’t the same thing at all. In fact, sometimes authority can actually make true influence harder because people comply without commitment.

Here’s what I wish someone had told me back then.

I thought influence meant power

Let me be clear about this: power and influence are not the same thing. In fact, they’re often inversely related.

I’ve worked with VPs who could mandate action but couldn’t create buy-in. Teams would comply minimally, finding creative ways to avoid real commitment. I watched one engineering lead who ruled by authority – teams would nod in meetings, then slow-walk implementation or find reasons why things “couldn’t be done that way.” People went through the motions, but there was no genuine enthusiasm, no real progress.

Meanwhile, there was this senior engineer with no direct reports who teams would proactively seek out for input. They trusted her expertise. They knew she understood their constraints. When she suggested something, people didn’t just comply – they were eager to make it happen.

The difference was stark. One had power. The other had influence.

When you rely on power to get things done, you create silent resistance. You might win the battle but lose the war as people find creative ways to comply minimally without real commitment. I’ve seen it happen again and again – directives that are technically followed but privately undermined.

True influence creates pull rather than push. People move in the direction you suggest not because they have to, but because they want to. That’s the key difference, and it’s one I completely missed early in my career.

I also thought influence meant being loud. Being the most visible person in the room. Speaking up in every meeting, commenting on every document, making sure my opinions were well-known across the organisation.

This approach was actually diluting my influence rather than strengthening it.

I remember one particularly embarrassing moment in a cross-functional meeting where I kept pushing a point, talking over others, thinking I was “showing leadership.” Afterwards, a mentor pulled me aside and gently asked, “Did you notice how people stopped making eye contact with you? That’s a sign they’ve stopped listening.”

That feedback was painful but transformative.

I started paying attention to the truly influential people around me, and I noticed something fascinating: they often spoke less, but when they did, the room got quiet. People leaned in. These influential voices were selective about when they contributed, focused on adding unique value, and often asked insightful questions rather than making declarative statements.

I’ve come to believe that influence is more about the weight of your words than the volume – and that weight comes from thoughtfulness, relevance, and timing.

And perhaps most importantly, I believed that influence came with a job title. That once I reached a certain level, influence would simply be part of the package.

But your job title is neither necessary nor sufficient for having real influence.

I’ve seen this play out repeatedly across my career. Some of the most influential people I’ve worked with held positions like Associate Product Manager or UX Researcher – roles without formal authority. What made them influential wasn’t their place in the hierarchy but how they approached their work and relationships.

I remember one customer support specialist who had more influence over our product roadmap than some product managers. Why? Because she took meticulous notes on customer pain points, organised them into clear patterns, and shared insights in a way that helped us see blind spots. Teams sought her input not because of her title but because of the unique value she consistently provided.

Conversely, I’ve seen newly promoted leaders struggle because they relied on their title rather than building genuine influence. They’d say things like, “As the Director of X, I think we should…” not realising that this approach often creates resistance rather than alignment.

Relying on your title for influence is actually a weakness, not a strength. It means you’re dependent on organisational structure rather than personal credibility. And that makes your influence fragile and situational rather than robust and portable.

So what is influence, actually?

After years of getting this wrong, I’ve come to understand influence as something quite different from what I originally imagined.

Influence, at its core, is about creating the conditions where people choose to move in a direction you’ve suggested or support an idea you’ve proposed – not because they have to, but because they want to.

It’s about removing friction rather than applying force. Think of it as creating a path that people want to walk down, not pushing them down a path you’ve chosen.

Real influence feels different on the receiving end. When someone is influencing you effectively, you don’t feel manipulated or pressured – you feel understood and aligned. You see the wisdom in their suggestion rather than resenting their control.

I’ve come to think of influence as a form of service rather than a form of power. When you’re genuinely trying to get to the best outcome for the team, the product, and the customer – not just pushing your own agenda – influence flows naturally.

After years of observing truly influential people and working to develop my own approach, I’ve identified three key components that create lasting influence. Connection, clarity, and consistency. When these three elements come together, they create a form of influence that doesn’t depend on your title or formal authority.

It starts with connection

Connection is where it all begins. Without genuine human connection, the other elements can’t function effectively.

I used to think of work relationships as somewhat separate from real relationships. That was a fundamental error. Work relationships are real relationships – they just have a specific context.

Trust is the currency of influence, and it’s impossible to have real influence without it.

I learnt this lesson the hard way after joining a new team several years ago. I came in with strong opinions and immediately started suggesting changes. I was technically right about many things, but I hadn’t earned the right to be heard yet. There was immediate resistance, and I couldn’t understand why.

A colleague pulled me aside and gave me invaluable advice: “You need deposits before you can make withdrawals.” I was trying to influence without having built any trust first.

Trust has multiple dimensions in a work context. There’s competence trust – belief that you know what you’re talking about. There’s reliability trust – confidence that you’ll do what you say. And there’s motives trust – faith that you have the team’s best interests at heart, not just your own agenda.

Building trust takes time and intentional effort. It requires listening deeply, demonstrating respect for others’ expertise, being transparent about your reasoning, and following through on commitments.

One practice I’ve adopted is to start new relationships by asking questions rather than making assertions. These days, when I join a new team or project, I shut up for a while. I ask questions: “What’s working well?” “What challenges are you facing?” “What would success look like from your perspective?” I fight the urge to prove myself by demonstrating what I know. Instead, I prove myself by demonstrating that I care about what they know.

Building meaningful relationships is the cornerstone of influence, but it’s often overlooked or approached superficially.

I’ve found that the most influential people are genuinely curious about others – not in a tactical way, but because they recognise that everyone has valuable perspectives and insights.

This means taking time for one-on-ones that go beyond status updates. It means asking about people’s career aspirations and challenges. It means remembering details about what matters to them and following up.

Early in my product career, I made a practice of having coffee with engineers, designers, marketers, and sales people – not to push my agenda, but to understand their worlds. Those relationships became invaluable when we needed to solve complex problems together.

One specific approach that’s worked well for me is asking people, “What does success look like for you?” This simple question reveals so much about their priorities and constraints, and shows that you care about their goals, not just your own.

Another powerful practice is explicitly acknowledging the expertise others bring. “I know you have much more experience with X than I do – what am I missing here?” This builds psychological safety and demonstrates humility.

These aren’t just “nice to have” social skills – they’re fundamental to creating the conditions where real influence can flourish.

And that brings me to perhaps the most important lesson I’ve learnt about connection: approaching interactions with genuine humility is transformative.

I used to enter discussions with the unconscious assumption that my ideas were probably the best ones in the room. This wasn’t arrogance exactly – it was just a natural tendency to overvalue my own perspective.

This mindset created subtle resistance to others’ ideas and made me a poor listener. I was mentally preparing my response rather than truly absorbing what others were saying.

A pivotal moment came when a mentor challenged me: “What if you entered every meeting assuming that everyone else knows something important that you don’t?” This simple reframe completely changed my approach.

I started asking more questions and making fewer declarations. I began with curiosity rather than certainty. And something remarkable happened – people became more receptive to my ideas because I was more receptive to theirs.

This approach isn’t just about being nice – it’s pragmatic. The reality is that complex problems require diverse perspectives. No single person, no matter how smart, can see all angles.

One practice I’ve adopted is explicitly stating when I’m uncertain or when I’m speaking outside my core expertise. This openness creates space for others to contribute their knowledge without contradiction.

Paradoxically, acknowledging the limits of your knowledge actually increases your influence rather than diminishing it. It builds trust and encourages others to be similarly transparent.

Clarity cuts through the noise

Whilst connection provides the foundation of trust, clarity is about communication that resonates and creates forward movement.

In today’s environment of information overload and competing priorities, the ability to create clarity is increasingly valuable and influential.

The most influential people I’ve worked with have a remarkable ability to make the complex feel simple – not by oversimplifying, but by identifying the essential elements and communicating them clearly.

I remember working on a particularly complex product problem with multiple stakeholders, technical constraints, and competing priorities. We were going in circles until our design lead stepped in and said, “It seems like we’re trying to solve three distinct problems at once. Let’s tackle them separately.”

That simple reframing created immediate clarity and progress.

Making things simple isn’t about dumbing them down – it’s about distillation. It’s identifying the core elements that matter most and focusing attention there.

I’ve developed some specific practices to help with simplification. Before important meetings, I ask myself: “If people remember only one thing from this discussion, what should it be?” This forces me to identify the most critical element.

I also try to eliminate jargon and specialised terminology when communicating across functions. What’s clear to me might be opaque to someone with a different background.

When you help others see through complexity to the essence of a situation, you create immense value – and that builds your influence organically.

One of the most powerful forms of clarity is the ability to reframe problems in ways that unlock new solutions.

I’ve seen countless situations where teams were stuck not because they couldn’t solve the problem, but because they were solving the wrong problem – or framing it in an unproductive way.

A team I worked with was struggling with a feature that users weren’t adopting. They kept asking, “How can we get more users to engage with this feature?” After weeks of frustration, someone reframed the question to “What job are users trying to accomplish, and how might we better support that?” This reframe completely changed our approach and led to a much more successful solution.

Influential people often ask questions like: “Are we solving the right problem?” “What outcome are we really trying to achieve?” “What would success look like for the customer?”

This skill requires stepping back from immediate solutions to consider the broader context and underlying needs. It’s about zooming out before zooming back in.

In our world of endless possibilities and distractions, the ability to create focus is incredibly influential.

I’ve witnessed many projects fail not because of lack of talent or resources, but because of scattered focus – trying to accomplish too many things simultaneously and therefore making minimal progress on all of them.

I remember joining a project that had been stalled for months. The team had a list of 20+ “must-have” requirements. In my first week, I facilitated a session to identify the true minimum viable product – just the 3-5 elements that would deliver real value. This focus immediately unlocked progress where there had been paralysis.

When you help a team focus their energy on what truly matters, you create tangible results – and those results build your influence over time.

Perhaps the most powerful aspect of clarity is connecting work to purpose – helping others see why something matters, not just what needs to be done.

People are naturally motivated by understanding how their efforts contribute to something meaningful. When that connection is unclear, engagement and commitment suffer.

I’ve found that even the most tactical work becomes more engaging when people understand the broader context and impact. A tedious data migration project we worked on became much more energised when we clearly connected it to specific customer pain points it would address.

By helping others see the why behind their work, you tap into intrinsic motivation rather than relying on extrinsic drivers. This creates sustainable energy and commitment that builds your influence naturally.

Consistency is what makes it stick

The final element in the influence formula is consistency – and in many ways, it’s the most challenging.

Whilst connection and clarity can sometimes be established relatively quickly, consistency requires sustained effort over time. It’s the difference between a sprint and a marathon.

Consistency is where many influence attempts break down. People build connections and communicate clearly but fail to follow through reliably over time.

Yet consistency is what ultimately cements your influence. It transforms initial trust into deep credibility. It turns one-time alignment into lasting commitment.

Influence is fundamentally cumulative – it builds through repeated interactions and consistent behaviour over time.

I like to think of it as making deposits in an “influence account.” Each time you add value, follow through on a commitment, or demonstrate good judgement, you’re making a deposit. These deposits compound over time, giving your voice progressively more weight.

This is why patience is so important. Influence that lasts is built gradually, not overnight.

I remember joining a new team and being frustrated that my ideas weren’t immediately embraced despite my experience. A mentor advised me to focus on “small wins” – opportunities to demonstrate value consistently before pushing for bigger changes. Six months later, my influence had grown substantially because I’d built a track record of reliable contributions.

One of the simplest yet most powerful aspects of consistency is simply showing up – being present and engaged over time.

I’ve observed that influence often accrues to those who maintain sustained engagement with projects, teams, and challenges – not those who parachute in for the exciting parts and disappear for the hard work.

Showing up means being there for the messy middle parts of projects, not just the kickoffs and celebrations. It means staying engaged when challenges arise, not just when things are going smoothly.

My influence has always been strongest in areas where I’ve demonstrated prolonged commitment, where people know I’ll still be there navigating the hard parts alongside them.

This principle sounds simple but is profoundly powerful: consistently doing what you say you’ll do builds extraordinary influence over time.

I’ve seen people with modest titles build enormous influence simply by being the person who always delivers. Conversely, I’ve seen senior leaders squander their influence by repeatedly making commitments they don’t fulfil.

I learnt the importance of this early in my career when I overcommitted and underdelivered on several occasions. I noticed that people stopped bringing opportunities my way because they weren’t confident in my follow-through. Rebuilding that trust took much longer than losing it.

Now I’m religious about tracking commitments, communicating clearly about timelines, and setting realistic expectations. If circumstances change and I can’t meet a commitment, I communicate early and transparently rather than letting deadlines slip silently.

One specific technique I use is explicitly recapping commitments at the end of meetings: “Just to confirm, I’m going to do X by Friday, and you’re going to do Y by Monday.” This creates clarity and accountability.

When you consistently do what you say you’ll do, you build a foundation of trust that enhances all other aspects of your influence.

There’s something critical about consistency I need to warn you about: whilst it builds exponentially, it can also collapse just as dramatically.

Think of building influence like a game of Snakes and Ladders – you climb lots of small ladders through consistent delivery, but there are massive snakes waiting if you drop the ball.

One significant failure to deliver, especially on something high-profile, can erase months or even years of credibility building.

I’ve seen this happen: someone who built trust over years loses it in a single moment by overpromising and underdelivering on something crucial. When people feel let down after putting their trust in you, they’re often slower to trust you again.

This is why consistency isn’t just important when things are going well – it’s absolutely critical during crises and tough situations. These high-pressure moments can either cement your influence or destroy it.

What doesn’t work (or: mistakes I still make)

Now that I’ve laid out what creates influence, let’s talk about some approaches that don’t work – at least not sustainably.

These are traps I’ve fallen into myself, and I still struggle with sometimes. It’s easy to fall back into these patterns, especially under pressure.

One of the most common misconceptions is that influence comes from dominating the conversation – being the loudest, most assertive voice in the room.

I fell into this trap early in my career. I’d jump into discussions quickly, speak with great conviction, and sometimes talk over others to make my points. What I didn’t realise was that this approach was actively undermining my influence.

I had a wake-up call when that colleague gave me feedback about people stopping eye contact. I began to notice that the most influential people in the organisation often spoke less frequently but more thoughtfully. They were selective about when they contributed, focusing on areas where they had unique insight or expertise.

Now I practice “conversational restraint” – being intentional about when I speak up, making space for others, and asking questions rather than just making statements. This approach has paradoxically increased my influence by making my contributions more valued.

Another trap I repeatedly fell into was believing that having the “best idea” was enough – that if my solution was technically superior, it should naturally prevail.

I’d get frustrated when my carefully crafted proposals weren’t adopted, not understanding that implementation depends on buy-in, not just technical merit.

The reality I’ve come to appreciate is that a good idea with enthusiastic support often outperforms a perfect idea that people aren’t excited about. Implementation quality and team commitment matter enormously.

I remember spending weeks developing what I thought was the perfect product strategy, only to have it gather dust because I hadn’t involved key stakeholders in its creation. They had no ownership or emotional investment in its success.

I now think of idea development as inherently collaborative. Rather than presenting fully formed solutions, I often start with a framework or draft that invites contribution. This creates shared ownership and improves the final outcome.

Sometimes influence means letting go of your own idea so that something better can emerge from the collective wisdom of the group. This requires confidence and humility – a willingness to prioritise outcomes over personal credit.

This lesson was particularly hard for me to learn: being right and being effective are not the same thing.

Early in my career, I was fixated on proving my points. I’d marshal evidence, construct airtight arguments, and engage in debate to show that my position was correct. I might win the argument, but I’d often lose the war.

I’ve had many pyrrhic victories where I proved my point but damaged relationships in the process. I’d leave a meeting technically “right” but having created resistance rather than alignment.

A mentor gave me invaluable advice: “You need to decide whether you want to be right or whether you want to be effective.” This forced me to examine my real goals – was I trying to win debates, or was I trying to create positive outcomes?

I now recognise that how you present ideas is often as important as the ideas themselves. Timing, framing, and emotional awareness all matter tremendously.

I’ve also learnt that sometimes letting others discover the right answer is more effective than telling them directly. Asking thoughtful questions that lead to insights creates stronger buy-in than presenting conclusions.

True influence isn’t about proving you’re right – it’s about helping the team get to the right outcome, even if the path there isn’t what you initially envisioned.

You already have influence

Here’s the truth that many people miss: you already have influence, right now, today – regardless of your title or tenure.

Every time you speak in a meeting, every email you send, every one-on-one conversation – you’re already exercising influence, whether you’re conscious of it or not.

Your opinions, reactions, questions, and suggestions are already shaping the thinking and actions of those around you in ways both subtle and significant.

I remember a junior designer on my team who didn’t realise how much her enthusiasm affected the entire project group. When she was positive and engaged, energy lifted across the team. When she was discouraged, others felt it too. That’s influence – whether you’re aware of it or not.

The question isn’t whether you have influence, but whether you’re using it intentionally and effectively. Are you conscious of the impact you’re having? Are you deliberate about how you show up?

This realisation is empowering because it means you don’t have to wait for influence to be granted to you – you just need to be more intentional about the influence you already have.

I try to regularly reflect on my own influence patterns: Where am I having positive impact? Where might I be creating unintended consequences? What patterns do I fall into under pressure?

One useful practice is seeking feedback specifically about how you influence outcomes. I’ve asked colleagues questions like: “How do my contributions in meetings affect our discussions?” “When do you find my input most valuable?” “Are there ways I could be more effective in helping us reach good decisions?”

This self-awareness is crucial because influence isn’t just about techniques or strategies – it’s fundamentally about how you show up and interact with others day to day.

You don’t need power to be powerful

I want to leave you with this essential truth: you don’t need power to be powerful.

Throughout my career, I’ve seen remarkable examples of people creating significant positive change without formal authority. Their influence came not from position but from connection, clarity, and consistency.

I remember a customer support specialist who transformed how we thought about user onboarding, an engineer who changed our approach to technical debt, a designer who shifted how we thought about accessibility – none of them had positional authority, but all had tremendous influence.

What they shared wasn’t titles or corner offices – it was the trust of their colleagues, clarity about what mattered, and consistency in their actions.

This approach to influence isn’t just more accessible – it’s more sustainable and satisfying. It creates change through alignment rather than compliance, through commitment rather than control.

These days, I rarely think about org charts or who has which title. I think about trust. I think about whether I’m creating clarity or adding confusion. I think about whether I’m following through on the small promises, not just the big ones.

I still make mistakes. I still talk too much in meetings sometimes. I still occasionally push for being right instead of being effective. But I catch myself faster now. And when I do have influence – when people seek my input or implement my suggestions – it’s not because of my title. It’s because I’ve built it, slowly, through connection, clarity, and consistency.

The junior me standing outside that meeting room was waiting for permission to be influential. What I wish I’d known then is that influence isn’t granted. It’s built. And you can start building it today, regardless of where you sit in the org chart.

Authority might open doors. But influence is what gets things done once you’re inside.