Positive Influence

In a boardroom in Singapore, a veteran executive found himself frozen as his CEO asked him point-blank what he thought about a critical business assumption. Despite months of preparation and deep concerns about the proposed strategy, he said nothing. The meeting ended abruptly, leaving both his reputation and the company's future hanging in the balance. This moment of paralysis wasn't unique to him—it reflects a universal challenge we all face when the stakes are high and our ability to influence others becomes the difference between success and failure.

Whether you're a young professional navigating office dynamics or a seasoned leader steering organizational change, your capacity for positive influence determines not just your career trajectory, but your ability to create meaningful change in the world around you. This book reveals how influence extends far beyond persuasion or communication—it's about mobilizing yourself and others toward outcomes that benefit everyone involved. Through decades of working with leaders across cultures and industries, the authors have discovered that true influence requires not just technique, but the courage to engage your whole being in service of collective good. The journey ahead will show you how to transform your natural instincts into a personal craft of positive influence that improves with use and works across any context.

The story begins in what seemed like professional exile. After rising rapidly through the ranks at McKinsey, earning nicknames like "The Whip" and "Fastest Analyst in the East," Tsun-yan found himself in the company's penalty box—given one year to change or face termination. Despite his brilliant analytical skills and business development success, colleagues found him too demanding, too intense, and difficult to work with. His anger would flare when people disappointed him, creating episodes that overshadowed his considerable talents.

Rather than retreat into bitterness or denial, Tsun-yan chose a different path. He hired his own coach—the first senior partner at McKinsey to do so—and embarked on a journey of radical self-examination. "You have already arrived and yet act like a young man trying to get somewhere in a hurry," his assessor told him over dinner. "You have a big gap between your good intent and the effects on people." This feedback became a turning point, forcing him to confront the difference between what he intended and how others experienced him.

The transformation wasn't immediate or easy. It required him to slow down, become more relatable, and work on his behavior in ways that felt uncomfortable and unnatural. He discovered that his high standards, while admirable in intent, were crushing others rather than elevating them. He learned to channel his intensity differently—not by lowering his expectations, but by understanding that influence comes through connection, not coercion.

This experience revealed a fundamental truth that would shape his approach to leadership for decades to come. The most powerful tool for influence isn't analytical brilliance or technical expertise—it's the ability to connect with others as human beings, to see beyond their roles to their hopes, fears, and potential. From the penalty box emerged not just a better leader, but a mentor who would go on to develop hundreds of other leaders by helping them discover the same truth about the power of human connection.

When Russian forces invaded Ukraine in February 2022, President Volodymyr Zelensky faced an impossible situation. Conventional military wisdom suggested Ukraine would fall within days. The comedian-turned-president had no military background, limited international stature, and was leading a nation that most analysts believed couldn't withstand the assault of a global superpower. Yet through sheer force of influence, he managed to rally not just his own country but the entire European continent to Ukraine's cause.

Zelensky's influence didn't come from traditional sources of power. Instead, it emerged from three critical elements that transformed him from an embattled leader into a global symbol of resistance. First, he put himself at the same risk he was asking others to accept. When offered safe passage out of the country, his response became legendary: "The fight is here; I need ammunition, not a ride." By staying in Kyiv, he demonstrated that he would share whatever fate awaited his people.

Second, his words carried emotional truth that transcended political rhetoric. In his speech to the European Parliament, he painted visceral images of the war's reality: "This morning was a very tragic one for us. Two cruise missiles hit Kharkiv... They hit this freedom square. Dozens of dead ones. This is the price of freedom." His translator wept while simultaneously translating his words, struck by the raw authenticity of his message.

Third, Zelensky understood that influence requires connecting abstract ideals to immediate human stakes. He didn't just appeal for military aid; he reminded Europeans of their shared values and challenged them to prove their commitment: "Do prove that you are with us. Do prove that you will not let us go. Do prove that you indeed are Europeans."

The power of Zelensky's influence lay not in his position or resources, but in his ability to align his being with his words, to embody the courage he was asking others to find within themselves. His example demonstrates that even in the most desperate circumstances, positive influence can create possibilities that seem impossible, mobilizing ordinary people to extraordinary action in service of something greater than themselves.

The St. Marguerite automobile assembly plant faced closure, threatening the livelihoods of 2,600 workers in a company town with few alternatives. Performance had plummeted, ranking 26th out of 30 plants company-wide, and management had rejected requests for new production mandates. Union relations were hostile, finger-pointing was rampant, and hope was nearly extinct. Into this toxic environment walked Tsun-yan, carrying the weight of a previous failure where his inability to influence had cost thousands of jobs at another plant.

This time, he chose a radically different approach. Instead of beginning with technical analysis or management presentations, he started with the human reality. He shared his personal story of failure—how his inability to connect with and influence a plant manager had led to plant closure and devastating job losses. This vulnerability immediately changed the dynamic. Both management and union leaders saw not just another consultant, but someone who understood what was truly at stake and was personally committed to preventing another tragedy.

Tsun-yan then did something unprecedented: he asked to research the workforce's actual willingness and ability to change. Rather than making assumptions about worker attitudes, he convinced both management and union leadership to let him survey employees anonymously. The results revealed that less than 2% were either actively demotivating others or genuinely wanted career changes. This data gave everyone a concrete foundation for hope and a clear path forward.

Working with both sides, he helped develop a plan that treated the small percentage of transitioning workers fairly while engaging the vast majority in performance improvements. Within six months, the plant had halved its defect rate. Within nine months, it had earned not just one new vehicle mandate, but secured another 15 years of operation—saving thousands of jobs and an entire community.

The transformation succeeded because it recognized that beneath the veneer of labor-management conflict lay shared human concerns: pride in work, fear for the future, and hope for something better. By connecting with these universal emotions and channeling them toward collective action, positive influence bridged divides that seemed insurmountable, proving that human connection transcends cultural boundaries when stakes are high and authentic caring is present.

At the heart of effective positive influence lie seven foundational principles that transcend cultural boundaries, organizational hierarchies, and individual personalities. These principles emerged from decades of observing what consistently works across high-stakes situations, from unionized shop floors to corporate boardrooms, from family businesses in Asia to technology startups in Silicon Valley.

The first three principles focus on preparation. "Be deliberate" means approaching influence consciously rather than winging it, especially when consequences matter. This involves understanding the full context—not just the surface issues, but the organizational dynamics, stakeholder pressures, and hidden forces at work. For instance, when a young consultant needed to challenge a project's direction, success depended on understanding not just the technical problems, but the personal pressures facing both the project leader dealing with career concerns and the sponsor managing family health crisis.

Setting clear influence objectives requires thinking beyond what you want to achieve to consider what would truly serve all stakeholders. This isn't about compromise or accommodation, but about discovering the "third entity"—outcomes that transcend individual interests to create shared value. A struggling telecommunications company's transformation succeeded not by choosing between cost-cutting and growth, but by finding ways to do both simultaneously, redeploying rather than simply eliminating staff.

The final four principles govern execution in the moment. Drawing insights means staying alert to what's really happening beneath surface conversations, asking "What else could be true?" even when you think you understand the situation. Timing matters enormously—the same message delivered at different moments can produce entirely different results. Pacing requires sensing whether to move quickly through issues or slow down to build understanding and buy-in.

But perhaps the most crucial principle is engaging your being. Your inner qualities—courage, compassion, curiosity, humility—often matter more than your arguments or techniques. When a CEO needed to address serious governance issues with a controlling shareholder, technical knowledge of regulations was less important than his ability to remain calm, centered, and genuinely concerned for all parties' long-term interests. These principles work together to create a systematic approach that respects both the complexity of human dynamics and the urgency of getting results.

The ultimate goal of developing positive influence isn't to master a set of techniques, but to build a personal craft that expresses your unique character through consistent conduct. Character represents the moral compass that guides your choices in difficult moments—the habitual flow of values that determines what you'll sacrifice for and what you'll never compromise on. It's what enabled one executive to turn down three CEO opportunities because his true calling was helping others reach their potential, not climbing the corporate ladder himself.

Conduct translates character into observable behavior patterns that persist across different situations and relationships. When someone consistently chooses to bring homemade gifts when visiting others' homes, or refuses to use disposable cups despite inconvenience, these aren't mere habits but expressions of deeper principles about respect and environmental responsibility. True conduct emerges from self-selected principles rather than externally imposed rules, making it sustainable even under pressure.

The integration of character and conduct creates craft—a personalized approach to influence that improves with use and adapts to new contexts while remaining authentic to who you are. Like traditional artisans who developed signature techniques through years of practice, effective influencers develop their own blend of being and doing that becomes increasingly natural and powerful over time.

This craft mindset distinguishes positive influence from simple technique application. Where techniques can feel manipulative or inauthentic, craft emerges organically from your values and experiences. A master craftsperson creating Samurai swords brings their entire being to each stage of the process, resulting in unique works that reflect both technical skill and personal artistry. Similarly, your influence craft will be unlike anyone else's because it emerges from your particular combination of character, experiences, and inner qualities.

Building this craft requires the same patient dedication that traditional artisans bring to their work. It develops through repeated practice in real situations, learning from both successes and failures, and continuously refining your approach based on results. The reward isn't just greater effectiveness, but the deep satisfaction that comes from expressing your authentic self in service of outcomes that benefit everyone involved.

This exploration of positive influence reveals a profound truth: our greatest leverage in creating change doesn't come from authority, expertise, or even charisma, but from our willingness to engage fully with others in pursuit of outcomes that serve the collective good. Through stories spanning from penalty boxes to presidential palaces, from factory floors to corporate boardrooms, we see that influence transcends cultural boundaries when it emerges from genuine human connection and authentic care for others' wellbeing.

The seven principles—being deliberate, understanding context, setting clear objectives, drawing insights, timing moments, managing pace, and engaging your being—provide a framework for transforming natural instincts into reliable capabilities. But the ultimate destination is something deeper: the development of a personal craft that integrates your character, conduct, and accumulated wisdom into an approach to influence that is uniquely yours. This craft doesn't just help you achieve your goals; it becomes a vehicle for bringing out the best in yourself and others, creating ripple effects that extend far beyond any single interaction or outcome. The journey toward positive influence is simultaneously a path toward becoming more fully yourself while serving something greater than yourself—perhaps the most rewarding challenge any of us can undertake.