his dilemma illustrates Radical Conformity Principles 5, 6, and 4 – seeing clearly, understanding how power actually works, and aligning your inner and outer world to build real influence.
im had just taken an $18,000 pay cut. Not because he lacked ability. Not because his ideas were wrong. But because being right, it turned out, wasn’t enough.
He was 47, an engineer by trade, innovative, intelligent, and genuinely committed to doing his best for every employer he’d worked for. He also had a good heart – which, in the organisations he’d worked in, had not always served him well.
The pattern had repeated itself twice now. First at a previous employer, where a politically savvy colleague had systematically manipulated him into a position from which his exit became inevitable. Then at a small company that had desperately needed his specialist knowledge. The owner had been delighted with his work. His colleagues had been cool and dismissive – implementing his ideas as their own, leaving his name out entirely.
Emotions had got the better of Jim at times. He’d developed a reputation as a troublemaker, a maverick, not a team player. The stress had begun affecting his health. His wife’s too.
The cruellest part – they still wanted him. They’d even given him a raise to keep him motivated. But they were completely unwilling to let him have any real influence.
So Jim had found a new job. And he’d taken the pay cut to get out. The die was cast. But he was determined – absolutely determined – not to end up in the same place again.
That was when he called me.
What I saw immediately
Jim’s situation was not primarily a political problem. It was a perception problem rooted in a fundamental blind spot.
He had spent his entire career believing that technical excellence was the currency that mattered. Do brilliant work, and the right things follow. It’s a belief that serves people well in the early stages of a career – and then quietly begins to work against them as organisations become more complex and power more distributed.
What Jim couldn’t see was the system operating around him. How decisions were actually made – especially the informal ones. How his ideas, however correct, were landing as a threat to people who hadn’t been consulted. How his emotional reactions, however understandable, were confirming a narrative about him that had nothing to do with his capability.
He wasn’t a troublemaker. He was a talented man operating with a significant blind spot about how influence actually works.
The $18,000 wasn’t just a financial hit. It was the system telling him something he hadn’t yet been able to hear.
Starting fresh – but differently
Jim started his new role in October. Within two weeks something had already shifted.
He had made a clear decision about the impression he wanted to create – not just technically competent, but genuinely liked and respected. He had prioritised relationships before results, which went against every instinct he had. And it was working.
Two key colleagues had taken him under their wing. They liked him. They were offering guidance and sharing intelligence about how things actually worked. When his new boss publicly tore into a colleague in a team meeting – the kind of moment that would previously have sent Jim into a tailspin of anxiety and reaction – he stayed calm, observed, and investigated quietly before acting.
When he did act, he got it exactly right. His boss held his work up as ‘a fine example of the way we should be doing things round here.’
Two weeks in and already a different story.
But I was careful with Jim at that point. Early wins can be dangerous. They create confidence that hasn’t yet been tested, and confidence without intelligence about the system is just a faster way to make the wrong move.
The details of how we worked through what came next are his, not mine to share. But the direction was clear – deepen the relationships that were opening, understand the political landscape before moving within it, and resist every temptation to move too fast.
‘Steady as she goes, Jim.’
What this dilemma reveals
Jim’s story is not unusual. Across 20 years I have worked with many people who share his profile – genuinely talented, genuinely committed, and genuinely blind to the invisible dynamics that determine whether talent translates into influence or gets quietly neutralised.
The $18,000 was not bad luck. It was the accumulated cost of a pattern Jim had never been helped to see clearly.
He was not alone. Shortly after this dilemma was first published, another professional reached out from Singapore. Same pattern, same blind spot, same political neutralisation – but the financial cost in his case was closer to $180,000. The number was different. The story was almost identical.
Once the pattern is visible, everything becomes navigable. Until it is, the cost keeps accumulating.
If you recognise yourself in Jim’s situation – talented, frustrated, feeling the cost of politics you can’t quite read – the first step is a conversation.