Amanda Wilson

We tend to think influence belongs to certain people.

The person with the title.

The person at the head of the table.

The person with the biggest platform.

The person everyone else is required to listen to.

But some of the most influential people I have known had none of those things. Over more than two decades in my career, and through experiences far beyond it, I have learned that influence rarely begins with authority.

It begins when someone decides something matters enough to act.

Leadership Without the Org Chart

I have spent much of my career working in aerospace and autonomous systems, leading complex programs across engineering, product development, manufacturing, certification, operations, and other cross-functional organizations. Program management teaches you something about leadership very quickly: you can be accountable for an outcome without having authority over everyone responsible for delivering it.

The engineers may not report to you. The manufacturing team may not report to you. Neither may finance, supply chain, quality, certification, or the customer teams whose decisions can fundamentally change the path forward. Yet somehow, all of those people have to move toward a shared outcome. Early in my career, I thought influence was largely about getting people to come with you. Experience has taught me something more nuanced.

Influence starts much earlier than persuasion.

It starts with understanding.

What matters to this person? What are they responsible for? What pressures are they facing that I may not see? What are they afraid of getting wrong? What do they know that I don't? What would make this outcome matter to them, too?

That shift has changed the way I lead.

Influence isn't always about winning people over. Sometimes it's about understanding people well enough that you don't need to.

When people know you have listened to them, when they trust your intentions, when they believe their expertise matters, and when they can see themselves in the outcome you are trying to create, leadership becomes less about directing people and more about creating the conditions for people to move together.

Authority can compel compliance.

Trust creates commitment.

And the two are not the same.

For women, particularly those building careers in industries where we are still significantly outnumbered, this distinction matters. Early in my career, I learned to listen and observe before finding my place in the room. I still believe in that. There is enormous value in understanding the people, history, context, and dynamics around you before deciding what you have to say.

But I have also learned that finding your place and waiting for permission to occupy it are very different things. There have been plenty of rooms throughout my career where I wasn't the most senior person, the deepest technical expert, or the person with the most organizational authority.

That did not mean I had nothing valuable to contribute. You don't have to be the loudest person in the room to make a meaningful impact. You do need to be willing to use your voice.

Sometimes that means asking the question no one else is asking. Sometimes it means advocating for the people closest to the work. Sometimes it means respectfully challenging a decision. Sometimes it means bringing clarity when everyone is overwhelmed by complexity. And sometimes it means listening when everyone else is busy talking.

Influence can be quiet.

But quiet should never be confused with insignificant.

When Influence Becomes Responsibility

Eventually, life taught me that influence without authority wasn't only a professional skill.

Sometimes it was a responsibility.

Years ago, my interest in service and public health took me far outside the aerospace industry. Through Rotary, I traveled to India and participated in National Immunization Day efforts supporting the global work to eradicate polio. I later became more involved in vaccine and public-health advocacy, including traveling to Capitol Hill to speak with policymakers.

No job title required me to do any of it.

I did it because I believed it mattered.

Then, in 2021, my understanding of advocacy—and of influence itself—changed forever.

I lost my 15-year-old son, Braden, to complications from MIS-C following COVID-19.

The world came to know Braden's name because he died.

I want people to know his name because he lived.

Braden was creative, funny, curious, artistic, and full of ideas. He was a painter, a designer, a swimmer, a performer, a coder, a filmmaker, a son, a grandson, a nephew, a cousin, and a friend. He had dreams for a future he should have been given the opportunity to live. After losing him, using my voice stopped feeling optional.

I founded the Braden Believes in Dreams Memorial Foundation to honor his life and help create opportunities for other young people to pursue their own dreams. Through scholarships, community literacy projects, public-health advocacy, and acts of service, we have worked to make sure his name continues to represent more than the way he died.

That experience changed what influence means to me.

Influence isn't about being known. It's about causing something to matter.

Sometimes influence looks like leading a complex organization toward a difficult milestone.

Sometimes it looks like sitting across from a policymaker and telling a story you wish you never had to tell.

Sometimes it looks like giving a scholarship to a young person with a dream.

Sometimes it looks like putting books into the hands of children in your community.

None of those things requires a particular title. They require the willingness to care—and then to act.

Influence as Service

We often talk about influence in terms of visibility: followers, platforms, titles, networks, recognition. I have come to think about it differently.

Influence is what we do with whatever reach we have.

It is using experience to make the path easier for someone coming behind us. It is advocating for someone whose voice isn't being heard. It is sharing what we know. It is listening before deciding. It is standing behind our values when doing so would be easier to avoid.

And sometimes it is simply showing another person that someone believes their dream matters.

That is why I increasingly think of influence as a form of service.

The question isn't, How many people are listening to me?

The better question is, What am I doing for the people who are?

When I think about young women beginning their careers today, especially those entering male-dominated fields, my advice isn't to walk into every room determined to prove that you belong there.

• Listen.
• Observe.
• Learn.
• Understand the people around you.
• Become excellent at what you do.
• Build relationships. Build credibility. Build trust.
• Know what you stand for.
• And then don't be afraid to use your voice.

There will always be rooms where someone has a bigger title than you. There will always be someone with more authority, more visibility, more experience, or a larger platform. None of those things determines whether you can make a difference.

You may not control the room.

You may not have the final decision.

You may not even have been invited to lead.

But when you understand the people around you, do the work, earn trust, stand firmly in your values, and are willing to act when something matters, you have more capacity to influence than any organizational chart can show.

Sometimes leadership comes with a title.

Sometimes influence comes with an invitation.

And sometimes you simply realize that something matters too much to wait for either.

Influence doesn't require permission.