You Can’t Run From Politics

Politics isn’t just in government buildings or campaign ads. It’s in your staff meeting. Your startup all-hands. Your one-person Substack. It shows up every time someone lobbies for a promotion, angles for visibility, or quietly redirects a project toward their priorities.

It’s not optional. It’s not avoidable. And no, it’s not always dirty.

Politics, at its core, is just this: the pursuit of power and influence when the rules aren’t clear. It’s how people jockey for status in environments where outcomes are ambiguous and merit is hard to measure. In that sense, politics is just another word for navigation.

Most people think of politics as sabotage or slimy manipulation. But let’s be honest — who isn’t trying to improve their position? For their career. For their family. For their sanity. Even people in prison are playing status games. Why would your company be any different?

When Someone Wins, We Assume They Cheated

What actually bothers us isn’t ambition — it’s the suspicion that someone else didn’t earn it. That they got ahead by playing dirty. That they whispered the right thing at the right time to the right VP. That they used connections, not competence.

It’s easier to say “they cheated” than admit, “they outplayed me.”

We construct coping narratives to preserve our ego. “Mary must’ve thrown me under the bus to get that promotion.” “John probably name-dropped me in a bad way.” Rarely do we consider: maybe Mary was just more consistent. Maybe John simply built stronger relationships.

We’re angry that the system isn’t fair. Well, I hope this isn’t news for you — and if it is, you’re screwed — life isn’t fair.

Is it fair that the gazelle gets eaten? No. But it’s not fair for the lion to starve either. Life isn’t designed to be fair — it’s designed to persist.

Politics = The Operating System of Knowledge Work

Here’s where it gets tricky. In knowledge work, output is vague. Attribution is messy. There’s no scoreboard. So, in part, we compete through perception. Who told the story better? Who made the right person feel smarter in a meeting? Who framed their contribution to look inevitable, not lucky?

And when everyone’s playing the same game, influence becomes the real skill.

Influence isn’t the problem — it’s the job.

It’s how things move when the data is murky and the outcomes are shared. It’s how decisions get made when priorities shift. And it’s the currency of leadership in a world where you can’t just point to a forklift count or a production line.

You don’t have to love it. But you do have to learn it.

So What Can You Do?

You don’t fight politics by opting out. You fight by playing it better.

Start by building relationships — before you need them. Make it easy for others to support you by giving them a reason to care. Provide data that aligns with their goals, not just yours. Learn to tell your story — not in a self-congratulatory way, but in a way that connects what you did to what the business needed.

That doesn’t mean becoming a schmoozer. It means becoming visible.

Influence is a muscle. The more you use it, the less effort it takes. The trick is to keep it ethical and transparent. Done well, influence doesn’t feel like scheming. It feels like clarity. Like trust. Like alignment.

And yes, people will call you political. Not because you’re manipulative — but because you’re effective. Don’t let that scare you off. It’s not an insult. It’s a signal that you’re learning how to navigate ambiguity and complexity.

And If You Think Startups Are Different…

I used to think the answer was to avoid politics altogether. Maybe go early-stage. Join a scrappy startup where titles don’t matter—everyone says—and everyone pulls in the same direction.

Here’s the plot twist: startups don’t have less politics—they have more! Because they have fewer rules, processes, hierarchy, and cultural norms, influence is critical to getting work done.

Every funding round reshuffles the org chart. One investor joins the board and suddenly the roadmap pivots 90 degrees. Priorities change, and nobody tells the team why. You’re not imagining the whiplash — it’s real.

Why does it feel so chaotic? Because you’re watching the game, but not the players behind the curtain. The CEO is getting pressure from the board. The board is reacting to other portfolio benchmarks. None of that shows up in Jira tickets.

And because none of it’s visible, it feels random. But it’s not random. It’s just opaque.

That’s still politics.

At Amazon, The Rules Are Different — But Still Political

One thing I respect about Amazon is that we’ve tried to make influence legible. You want to change something? Write a doc. Influence happens in prose. Everyone can read it. Everyone can weigh in.

That doesn’t eliminate politics — but it shifts the game into the open.

You don’t have to bump into the right VP in the hallway. You can just write a good doc and work the comment threads. Your thinking has a shot if it’s clear, logical, and well-timed. And sure, there are still hallway deals and Slack DMs — but at least the main event is out in the open.

Whatever your company’s equivalent is — find it. Learn how decisions really get made. Then work backwards from there.

If You’re Still Looking for a No-Politics Job…

If you’re still dreaming of a workplace without politics, I’ve got bad news: you’re not looking for a company. You’re looking for a fantasy.

And worse? Even if you found it, you wouldn’t grow there.

Because growth happens at the edge of influence. Where stakes are high. Where relationships matter. Where you learn to lead through ambiguity, not avoid it.

So don’t waste your time wishing politics away.

Learn to navigate it. And do it so well that you make the game better for the next person too.