
Some of the most important decisions are made before anyone walks into the room.
Not formally. Not on the agenda. But in hushed check-ins, thoughtful-sounding messages, or the always-innocent “just wanted to get your take before we meet.” It’s rarely malicious. In fact, it’s usually framed as helpful, collaborative, even considerate. But make no mistake – it’s influence dressed as inquiry.
We’ve all done it. Sent a message ahead of a meeting, floated an idea quietly, tried to feel out the room before the room even gathers. Sometimes it’s to prepare others, sometimes it’s to test a theory, sometimes it’s to avoid surprise. But often, it’s a way of building early momentum for a position we haven’t yet earned in the open. We’re not really asking for feedback – we’re quietly advocating for alignment.
In teams that trust one another, this might seem harmless. Even smart. But in reality, it begins to distort what the meeting is supposed to be – a space for discovery. What could be a collective moment of clarity gets reduced to a formality, where outcomes are mostly pre-decided, and real disagreement has little room to breathe.
When ideas are shopped around quietly before a meeting, the discussion that follows feels oddly scripted. Some people speak with a confidence that only comes from private reassurances. Others hold back because they sense the conclusion has already been reached. It may look like consensus, but it’s choreography. And it undermines not just the quality of thinking, but the trust that decision-making is actually shared.
We don’t need more tactics. We need a shift in culture. The kind that says: let’s give everyone the same information, at the same time. Let’s let people think for themselves before reacting to what someone else wants them to think. Let’s stop rehearsing the outcome and start engaging the problem. It’s not about adding red tape – it’s about honouring the intelligence in the room.
I’ve seen it firsthand. When everyone receives background, proposals, or reflections at the same time, something powerful happens. There’s a quiet confidence in the room – not just from those with experience, but from those with fresh perspective. The conversation doesn’t just feel more open, it is more open. And the best ideas – often from unexpected places – have a chance to breathe.
What this does, more than anything, is shift the gravitational pull of the meeting away from politics and toward purpose. It frees people from having to decode subtext or guess who’s already on board. It invites honesty, not performance. And for leaders – especially those trying to build resilient, equitable cultures – it’s one of the simplest ways to signal that power doesn’t live in backchannels, it lives in dialogue.
Amazon, famously, begins meetings with quiet reading time. The memo lands in front of everyone at the same moment, and before anyone says a word, they read. Together. Silently. Equal footing. There’s something deeply democratic in that. And it’s not the format that matters most – it’s the principle: nobody gets an edge. Nobody walks in ahead of the others. Thoughtfulness beats access.
When influence happens outside the meeting, the people with the most informal power tend to shape the direction. But when that influence is removed from the equation, what rises is insight – not politics. You start hearing from the people who were previously quiet, not because they lacked ideas, but because they didn’t feel the room was really open.
And that’s the real cost of pre-meeting persuasion – it signals to some people that the outcome is already in motion, and to others, that their voices weren’t needed until the end. Over time, that erodes both creativity and trust. You don’t just lose better thinking – you lose the people who could have brought it.
To counter that, we have to practice a different kind of leadership. One that doesn’t depend on steering conversations quietly, but rather on curating environments where honest disagreement can surface. Where ideas live or die on their merits, not on who socialized them first. Where preparation is shared, not privately tailored.
It’s slower, yes. But it’s cleaner. Stronger. Fairer. And ultimately, smarter.
So if you ever catch yourself about to say, “just wanted to run something by you before the meeting,” pause. Ask yourself if you’re genuinely seeking input – or just laying the groundwork for agreement. One expands the room. The other closes it before anyone else gets a chance to enter.
And in a world where we’re desperate for better decisions, more trust, and deeper engagement – maybe the most radical thing we can do is keep the room open until everyone arrives.