A colleague pulled me aside a few weeks ago and said something that completely surprised me. She told me that a comment I’d made in a meeting about six months ago had fundamentally changed how she thinks about her work. She’d been struggling with something, and what I said gave her a completely different framework for approaching it. It had shaped several major decisions she’d made since then.

I had absolutely no memory of saying it.

I mean, I remembered the meeting. But the specific comment she was talking about? Gone. It must have been something I said in passing, some offhand observation that felt completely unremarkable to me. And for her, it was a turning point.

Real influence happens in moments so small that nobody—including you—recognizes them as leadership. You’re shaping how people think, what they believe is possible, what choices they make. And you have no idea you’re doing it.

TOMER ROZENBERG

That’s when I started paying attention to how influence actually works. And I realized: most of the real leadership in my life—the people who shaped how I think, who changed my trajectory, who influenced who I became—they did it in moments they probably don’t remember. Offhand comments. Small examples. The way they showed up in ordinary situations.

They weren’t trying to lead. They were just being themselves. And somehow, that was more influential than all the intentional mentoring and formal leadership I’ve experienced.

The leadership that actually shapes people happens in moments too small to recognize as leadership at all.

Order my new book: Strategic Life: How to Build a Life That Matters

The Influence You Don’t See

I’ve been thinking about the people who shaped me most significantly. Not teachers or mentors or bosses who were explicitly trying to influence me—though some of those mattered too. But the people whose influence was completely unintentional.

The colleague who handled a difficult situation with grace, and I watched and learned something about how to navigate conflict without making it worse. They weren’t teaching me—they were just doing their job. But the example stuck with me more than any explicit advice about conflict resolution ever did.

The friend who consistently chose kindness even when they had every right to be harsh. I never asked them about this, never had a conversation about it. But watching them make that choice repeatedly changed how I think about responding to people who frustrate me.

The person at work who admitted they didn’t know something instead of pretending they did. Such a small moment. But it gave me permission to be honest about my own limitations instead of performing certainty I don’t feel.

None of these people were trying to lead me. They weren’t mentoring me or attempting to shape my development. They were just showing up as themselves, making choices that felt right to them, handling situations in ways that aligned with their values.

And I was watching. Learning. Being shaped by their example without them knowing I was even paying attention.

The Comments That Changed Everything

I’ve had several experiences like my colleague had—where something someone said in passing completely shifted how I think about something important.

A boss once said, almost as an aside in a larger conversation: “The work is never done, so you have to decide what ‘done enough’ looks like for each situation.” It was maybe one sentence in a twenty-minute conversation about something else. I doubt they even remember saying it.

But that one sentence changed how I approach my work. I’d been exhausting myself trying to make everything perfect, treating everything as equally important, never feeling like I’d done enough. That one offhand comment gave me permission to be strategic about where perfection matters and where good enough is genuinely good enough.

Someone else, years ago, casually mentioned that they never make important decisions when they’re hungry, tired, or anxious. Just a passing comment about their own process. But I’ve been using that guideline ever since, and it’s prevented me from making several decisions I would have regretted.

A friend once said: “I’ve stopped trying to be less sensitive. I’m just learning to work with how I actually am.” This wasn’t advice directed at me—they were just talking about their own experience. But it completely reframed how I think about my own personality traits I’d been trying to change.

None of these people were trying to teach me anything. They were just sharing their thoughts, describing their approach, being honest about their experience. And those casual comments shaped me more than most of the formal advice I’ve received.

How Your Regular Behavior Sets Examples

What I’m learning is that you’re always setting examples. Not just when you’re consciously trying to model something or teach something, but constantly. In how you respond when frustrated. In what you prioritize when pressed for time. In whether you treat people differently based on their status. In how you handle failure or success.

People are watching. Not in a creepy way. Just… noticing. Learning from what you do more than what you say. And the examples you set in small, ordinary moments often have more influence than your explicit attempts to lead.

I think about how I behave in meetings when someone says something I disagree with. Do I dismiss them? Get defensive? Show impatience? Or do I genuinely try to understand their perspective even when I’m convinced they’re wrong?

Whatever I do is teaching the people around me how to handle disagreement. Not through explicit instruction, but through example. And I have no idea who’s paying attention or what they’re learning from watching me.

The same is true for everyone. You’re teaching something about how to work, how to relate to people, how to handle pressure, how to treat those with less power than you. Not through formal mentoring but through your regular behavior that feels completely ordinary to you.

And you have no idea what lessons people are taking from watching you. You don’t know which moments will stick, which examples will shape them, which offhand comments will change how they think about something important.

The Responsibility of Invisible Influence

This is both empowering and heavy. You’re influencing people constantly, whether you intend to or not. The question isn’t whether you’re leading—you are. The question is what you’re teaching through the example you’re setting.

When I’m impatient with someone who’s slower to understand something, I’m teaching the junior people watching me that it’s acceptable to show impatience with those who aren’t as quick. I might not mean to teach that. I might explicitly say the opposite. But the example is what they’ll learn from.

When I take credit for collaborative work, I’m teaching people that’s how you get ahead. When I pass credit to others who contributed, I’m teaching something different. Both are lessons. Both are forms of leadership. I just only intend one of them.

The responsibility here isn’t to be perfect—nobody can do that. It’s to be conscious that your behavior matters beyond just the immediate situation. That people are learning from watching you, even in moments you’d never think of as teaching moments.

I’ve started asking myself more often: if someone learned from watching me right now, what would they learn? Is that what I want to be teaching?

Not as a way to perform perfect behavior—that’s exhausting and impossible. But as a check-in on whether my actual behavior aligns with my actual values. Whether the example I’m setting is the example I’d want to be setting if I knew someone was learning from it.

Why Trying to Be Influential Often Fails

Here’s what’s interesting: the times I’ve consciously tried to be influential or to lead or to mentor someone, I often feel like it doesn’t work. The advice I carefully craft doesn’t land. The example I’m purposely modeling doesn’t seem to matter. The leadership I’m intentionally attempting feels forced.

But then someone tells me something I said casually changed everything for them. Or I notice someone adopting an approach I take without me ever explicitly teaching it. Or years later, someone mentions that watching how I handled something gave them courage to handle their own situation differently.

The influence happened when I wasn’t trying. When I was just being myself, doing what felt right, showing up authentically. The intentional influence, the deliberate leadership—that often falls flat. The unintentional influence, the just-being-myself moments—that’s what actually shapes people.

I think it’s because people can tell when you’re performing leadership versus when you’re just being who you are. The performance feels hollow, calculated, less trustworthy. But when you’re genuinely just doing your thing, handling situations according to your actual values, being honest about your experience—that feels real. And real is what influences.

This doesn’t mean intentional mentoring never matters—it does. But I think we overestimate how much influence comes from our deliberate attempts to lead and underestimate how much comes from our ordinary behavior that we don’t even think of as leadership.

The Compounding Effect of Small Consistent Presence

The most influential people in my life weren’t the ones who had the biggest dramatic impact in a single moment. They were the ones who showed up consistently over time, demonstrating through repeated small examples what they valued and how they approached life.

I had a manager who, in every single meeting, would find something genuinely positive to say about each person’s contribution before offering any criticism or suggestions. Every single time. It seemed small. But over months of watching this, I learned something profound about how to give feedback in ways that people can actually hear it.

I have a friend who consistently shows up early to things. Not making a big deal about it, not calling attention to it. Just… always there a few minutes early, prepared, ready. This small pattern of behavior taught me something about respect for other people’s time and the signal you send through reliability.

These weren’t dramatic teaching moments. They were small patterns, repeated so consistently that the lesson seeped in almost without me noticing. The compounding effect of small consistent behavior over time turned out to be more influential than any single impressive moment of leadership.

And I think that’s how most real influence works. Not through dramatic interventions or impressive displays of leadership, but through the accumulated weight of how you consistently show up in small ways.

Leadership as Who You Are, Not What You Do

What I’m coming to believe is that leadership isn’t primarily about doing leadership things—giving direction, making decisions, inspiring people. Those matter, especially in formal leadership roles. But they’re not where most influence comes from.

Most influence comes from who you are. Your values, demonstrated through behavior. Your way of handling situations, revealed in small moments. Your approach to relationships, shown through consistent patterns. Your character, displayed when you think nobody’s paying attention.

You can’t fake this kind of leadership. You can’t put on character like you put on leadership behaviors. People see through performed values to what you actually value based on what you actually do when it actually matters.

The leader who talks about integrity but cuts corners when pressed for time—people learn that integrity is negotiable. The leader who says they value growth mindset but gets defensive when questioned—people learn that growth mindset is just words. The leader who preaches work-life balance but responds to emails at midnight—people learn that balance is for others, not for serious people.

Your actual values, demonstrated through actual behavior, especially in small moments when you’re not thinking about whether anyone’s watching—that’s what influences. That’s what teaches. That’s what leads.

And you can’t control this influence by performing better behavior. You can only influence it by actually becoming the person whose example you’d want people to follow. Which is much harder work than learning leadership techniques, but also much more powerful.

Link to My Book: New Day, My Way, Your Life

The Examples You’re Setting Right Now

You’re setting examples right now. In how you’re treating the people around you today. In what you’re choosing to prioritize when you’re busy. In how you’re responding to frustration or pressure or success.

Someone is watching. Maybe not consciously, maybe not even someone you know is paying attention. But your behavior is teaching something about how to be in the world, how to handle situations, what matters and what doesn’t.

You don’t get to choose whether you’re influential. You are. The only question is what you’re influencing people toward through the example you’re actually setting versus the example you think you’re setting.

I don’t say this to add pressure or to make you self-conscious about every action. But to invite you to notice: your ordinary behavior matters. The small ways you show up matter. The choices you make when you think they’re insignificant—they matter. Because you never know what moment will be the one that shapes someone.

That comment I made six months ago that I don’t remember but that changed how my colleague thinks about her work? I have no idea what I said. But I’m glad I said something that helped. And it makes me more conscious that other things I’m saying, other examples I’m setting, are probably influencing people in ways I’m completely unaware of.

Permission to Lead Without Knowing You’re Leading

Here’s what I want you to know: You don’t have to be in a formal leadership position to be influential. You don’t have to try to be a leader to shape people. You’re already leading through your example, through your presence, through the person you are in ordinary moments.

The influence you have happens in small moments you won’t remember. Through offhand comments that matter to someone. Through the consistent way you show up over time. Through the example you set just by being yourself.

You can’t control what people learn from watching you. You can’t determine which moments will matter or which comments will stick. But you can be conscious that your behavior teaches something, and you can work on becoming someone whose example you’d want people to follow.

Not through performing leadership or trying to be impressive or carefully crafting your image. But through actually living your values, actually being who you want to be, actually showing up with integrity in small moments when you think nobody’s paying attention.

Because someone is paying attention. Someone is learning from watching you. Someone will remember something you said or did that you’ve completely forgotten. And that influence—the unintentional, invisible kind—is often the most powerful kind there is.

So be conscious of the example you’re setting. Not to add pressure, but to recognize that you matter. Your behavior matters. The person you are in ordinary moments matters. Not just to you, but to everyone who’s learning from watching you, whether you know they’re watching or not.

You’re leading. Right now. In ways you can’t see and won’t remember. And that invisible, unintentional influence? That might be the most important leadership you ever do.

---

Subscribe to my newsletter:
Join 600,000+ readers who get wisdom from ordinary experiences delivered twice a week.