Reader

Nobody wants to follow a title. Some have to.

The soldier follows the rank. The kid follows the parent. The employee follows the org chart because the mortgage says so. That's real. Order matters — somebody has to be in charge, and a title can hold the line when nothing else will.

But let's be honest about what it buys you: compliance. Not loyalty. Not commitment. They'll do what the title requires and not one ounce more. And underneath, they're keeping score — counting down until they don't have to.

Your title — VP, Director, Founder, Manager — or the relational ones: parent, spouse, friend. Whatever it says on the org chart or the email signature or the family role you play. That's the lowest form of influence there is. It's not nothing. But it's the floor, not the ceiling.

Here's the test: if you need your title to get something done, you don't have influence. You have authority. Those are very different things.

Authority says "do this because I'm the boss." Influence says "I'll do this because I trust you." Authority gets compliance. Influence gets commitment. And the day the title goes away — you leave the role, the org chart changes, the kids grow up — authority evaporates on the spot. Influence stays.

Most people spend their careers polishing the title. Bigger office. Better parking spot. More letters after the name. Then they wonder why nobody actually follows them anywhere that matters.

Because influence isn't given. It's earned. And permission-based influence — the kind people grant you because they trust you, not because your title says they have to — that's the goal. One conversation at a time. One kept promise at a time. One moment where you chose the relationship over the transaction.

That's the whole game: relationship over transaction.

You've heard the title doing the talking at home. "As long as you're under my roof, you'll follow my rules." Or the shorter version: "My house, my rules — don't like it, there's the door."

Every parent has said some version of it. And every time it comes out, you've just announced you've run out of influence with your own kid. You're not leading anymore, you're legislating. And the kid hears exactly what you said: the only reason to listen is that you control the roof.

At work it's quieter, but it's the same move. Nobody says "my house, my rules" in a conference room. They don't have to — it's inferred. It's in the tone. In the meeting that was never actually a discussion. In the "let's just go with my call on this one." Do what I say. The title doing the talking because the person can't.

Both versions get compliance. Neither gets commitment. And both have an expiration date — the kid grows up and leaves, the employee takes another job — and that's when you find out what you actually built.

Think about who shaped you most. Was it their title? Or was it that they saw you, told you the truth, and showed up when it cost them something?

Nobody remembers your title. Everybody remembers how you made them feel about themselves.

So here's the move. Stop leading with your title. The next time you catch yourself thinking "because I'm the ___" — treat it as a warning light. It means you're spending authority because you're out of influence.

Earn it instead. Ask yourself one question today: what's one thing I can do to earn more influence with the people who matter most?

Keep a small promise. Ask someone what they're carrying and actually listen to the answer. Give credit away. Take the blame when it's yours.

Influence compounds. Every deposit makes the next one easier. And unlike a title, nobody can hand it to you — and nobody can take it away.

You don't need a bigger title. You need to be the kind of person people follow without one.

— Bob

​P.S. Have you taken the FREE “Winning the Wrong Game” Diagnostic? It will show you the gap between success and fulfillment in your life and a step forward to live a more fulfilled life.