Corporate politics for good: The trust playbook talent leaders can use

Corporate politics is one of those phrases that makes people roll their eyes. Say it in a hallway and you can almost hear the groan. Most of us have seen it at its worst. It is the coworker who smiles in the meeting and then stabs you in the budget review. It is the manager who hoards credit like it is oxygen. It is the quiet campaign to make someone else look unprepared so you look ready. If you have been in an office longer than five minutes, you have probably been on the receiving end of that kind of play.

But here is the thing. Corporate politics is not going away. It is not some optional feature that shows up only in broken companies. Whenever people work together and resources are limited, influence matters. Budgets are limited. Headcount is limited. Time on the roadmap is limited. The attention of leaders is limited. The moment you have scarcity, you have politics. The question is not whether politics exists. The question is how you choose to use it.

I talked about this recently with Rhona Barnett-Pierce when she interviewed me at RecFest USA in Nashville for her Workfluencer Podcast. Rhona is a talent acquisition leader and creator who does a great job pulling real stories out of people, not just polished talking points. Her whole thing at RecFest was walking around with that pink mic, getting attendees to say the quiet parts out loud. When she asked me about corporate politics, I did not want to pretend it is all sunshine. I have seen the dark side. But I have also seen politics used for good, and I learned that lesson early from someone who showed me a better way.

Back in 1990 and 1991, I reported to Marvin Granath at Honeywell. Marv was the Senior Vice President for Human Resources Legal and reported to the Fortune 50 company’s Chief Executive Officer. On the org chart, he sat high enough that, in other organizations, his role would be so intimidating to some people that they would be afraid to tell him the truth. But that wasn’t the case with Marv. Not at all. He was the kind of leader who made you want to tell him the truth because he used it to help, not to punish. I was young in my career, still trying to figure out how work really worked. College and law school teach you skills. They do not teach you the hidden rulebook of organizations. Marv did.

The rulebook I thought existed was simple. Do good work. Be reliable. Help the company. Get promoted. The real rulebook has an extra chapter. It goes something like this. People decide things, and people are human. They bring their fears, their hopes, their pride, and their insecurities into every room. They are not just weighing facts. They are weighing risk. They are weighing relationships. They are weighing who will back them if the decision goes sideways. That is corporate politics. It is the human layer on top of the work.

A lot of people use that layer to undermine others. They walk into meetings thinking, how do I win this? They treat every conversation like a chess match. If another team needs funding, they quietly argue why that team is not ready. If a peer is getting attention, they look for a way to shift the spotlight. They trade favors like poker chips. I will support your project if you support mine. If you do not, I will remember. The whole thing turns into a running tally of debts. That is politics used as a weapon.

I saw a little of that at Honeywell. Nothing awful. Nothing out of the ordinary. Just like what exist in almost any organization of any size anywhere. The behaviors are not subtle once you know what to look for. People speak last so they can shape the conclusion. People withhold information until it gives them leverage. People create “special committees” that are really just delay tactics. People collect allies the way kids collect trading cards. And because it is usually done with a calm voice and a polite smile, it can take a while to realize what is happening.

What impressed me about Marv was that he did not play that game, yet he was the most effective executive I have ever worked with. He understood politics better than anyone in the room, but he used it in the opposite direction. He walked into meetings thinking, what can I do to help these people succeed? And then he would ask them. Not as a performance. Not to look generous. He genuinely wanted to know what their problems were so he could help remove them.

That sounds simple, almost naive, until you see it in action. Imagine a meeting where two departments are fighting over the same pool of money. One leader is trying to prove why their initiative is more important. Another is trying to poke holes in it. Marv would listen, then say something like, “What is blocking you right now, and how can I help you get past it?” The room would go quiet. Not because it was a trick question, but because it was a different kind of question from what people expected.

He did not do quid pro quo. He did not say, I will help you if you help me. He helped because he believed in the long game of trust. If you keep showing up as someone who makes other people stronger, you become the person everyone wants in the room. You become the person others root for. And when you need support, you do not have to make a trade. People volunteer it.

I watched this pattern repeat over and over. Marv would help a peer solve a staffing problem. A month later, that peer would back one of Marv’s priorities without being asked. Marv would share credit on a win with another leader. Later, that leader would return the favor in a bigger way. Not because there was a deal on the table, but because trust creates reciprocity. Humans are wired for it. When someone consistently supports you, you want them to succeed too.

There is also a practical side to this approach. When you help others get results, you are not just being nice. You are building a network of competence. Their wins become your insurance policy. If your project depends on theirs, you want them to be strong. If their success strengthens the company, that helps you too. Politics used for good is not charity. It is strategy that recognizes interdependence.

Marv also understood something else that many people miss. Influence is not only about persuasion. It is about reducing fear. In corporate life, fear shows up as risk. Leaders worry about betting their reputation on the wrong thing. When someone like Marv steps in to help, he lowers that risk. He makes it safer for others to say yes. The value of that cannot be overstated. The best political players do not push people into decisions. They make decisions feel safe.

So how do you use corporate politics the way Marv did, especially if you are early in your career and do not have a fancy title yet? You start by shifting your default mindset. Most people enter a meeting thinking about their own agenda. That is normal. The trick is to add a second question in your head. What does everyone else in this room need to win? If you can answer that, you can be helpful in ways that matter.

Being helpful does not mean being a doormat. It does not mean saying yes to everything. It means paying attention to what is blocking other people, then offering specific support that moves the work forward. Sometimes that support is expertise. Sometimes it is a connection. Sometimes it is simply being the person who says, “I think her idea is right, and here is why.” Public support is rare currency. Spend it wisely and people will remember.

Another part is credit. The fastest way to build enemies is to take credit for work other people did. The fastest way to build allies is to share credit for work you did. When you say “we” instead of “I” and you back it up with sincere acknowledgment, you create a reputation that spreads. People want to work with you because they know you will not steal the spotlight. That reputation becomes political capital.

Listening is political too. The loudest voice is not always the most influential one. Often, influence comes from being the person who truly understands what others care about. If you listen for priorities, pressures, and fears, you will know how to frame your ideas in a way that fits theirs. That is not manipulation. It is empathy with a purpose.

You also have to realize that politics is not only what happens in big meetings. It is what happens in the hallway before the meeting. It is what happens in the follow up email. It is who you ask for input before you present a plan. Marv was great at this. He rarely surprised people in a room. He would talk with them beforehand, learn what mattered to them, and adjust. Then when the meeting happened, it felt like progress, not conflict.

None of this guarantees you will never run into someone who plays dirty. You will. Politics used as a weapon is still out there. The point is not to pretend it does not exist. The point is to build your own influence in a way that makes you resilient against it. People who are trusted, who are known for helping others, and who bring clarity to chaos, are hard to take down. Even if someone tries, the network you have built will push back.

When Rhona asked me at RecFest about corporate politics, I said that the best version of politics looks a lot like leadership. It is about building trust, creating shared wins, and moving the organization in a healthy direction. Rhona’s interviews are good at capturing that kind of practical wisdom, not the fake stuff. I am glad we talked about it there, in front of a bunch of people who spend their lives dealing with humans at work.

If you take nothing else from my time with Marv Granath, take this. You can be politically smart without being politically toxic. You can understand how influence works without turning into someone you do not like. Walk into rooms looking for how to help others succeed. Do it consistently. Do it without keeping a scorecard. Trust that people will notice, because they will. Over time, you will find that corporate politics stops feeling like a swamp you have to cross, and starts feeling like a tool you can use to build something better.

Marv passed away in 2010. I lost touch with him after leaving Honeywell when I graduated from law school, but hardly a day goes by when I don’t think of him. He made me better. He made the world better.