In the corridors of executive suites and community institutions alike, we often encounter the perennial question: What truly drives decision-making—authority or influence?
As one who has spent much of my career navigating both organizational and communal life, I’ve found that the answer lies less in theoretical models and more in the quiet spaces where trust, authenticity and human connection live.
Authority is granted by title, by structure, by appointment. It’s the CEO’s corner office, the rabbi’s pulpit, the principal’s desk. It enables decisions, allocates power and often provides clarity in moments of ambiguity. But authority alone does not ensure followership. In fact, authority without influence breeds compliance at best—and resentment at worst.
Influence, on the other hand, is earned. It is the currency of credibility, consistency and character. Influence lives in the realm of the emotional, the relational and the deeply personal. Where authority might compel action, influence invites alignment.
There is a kind of secret hack to leadership—one that is often overlooked in textbooks and ignored by PowerPoint decks—and that is influence.
As the late Rabbi Jonathan Sacks points out: “Power, in other words, is a zero-sum game: the more you share, the less you have. Influence is not like this, as we see with our Prophets. When it comes to leadership-as-influence, the more we share the more we have.”
Leadership is not necessarily about authority. In fact, decision-making often derives from those who use the power of influence.
A few relevant lessons about influence:
1. Influence is not about titles. In his piece “You Don’t Need to Be ‘the Boss’ to Be a Leader,” published in Harvard Business Review (February 2023), Matt Mayberry asserts that leadership isn’t tethered to a title—it’s tethered to behavior. Leadership means committing to personal growth, embracing your unique skills and connecting with others on a deep level. As Mayberry writes: “It all comes down to how we communicate, rather than what we communicate.” True leaders operate from a mindset of service, not status. Vulnerability, authenticity and empathy go a long way.
2. Influence is democratic. Influence is a precious commodity, but perhaps its most remarkable feature is that anyone can wield it. It isn’t about job titles or seniority. Influence can come from the assistant who knows how to read the room better than anyone else, or the recent graduate whose insight in a meeting changes the whole direction of a project.
I’ve seen firsthand how a seemingly minor comment in the middle of a strategy session—offered without fanfare by an entry-level professional—reshaped the trajectory of a months-long initiative. At a much earlier stage in my career, a colleague loudly and derisively rejected an idea of mine outright, only for me to hear him advocating the very same concept six months later after I’d quietly and consistently introduced it in different ways over time.
3. Influence can be very quiet. When wielded wisely, influence is subtle and strategic. Less is more. It isn’t about dominating the conversation; it’s about knowing when to speak and how to listen. Sometimes it’s the softspoken comment in the middle of a meeting—or the conversation in the hallway between meetings—that shifts the mood, reframes the challenge or opens a new possibility.
Moshe Rabbeinu, perhaps the most authoritative figure and certainly the most significant leader in Jewish history, wielded immense power: he spoke face to face with Hashem, led an entire people out of slavery and received the Torah on Har Sinai. Yet his leadership was not defined by authority alone.
When people follow you not because they have to but because they want to—that is leadership worth having.
Consider the episode in Shemot 18:17–18 where Moshe’s father-in-law, Yitro, observes him adjudicating every case, large and small. Yitro advises: “Lo tov hadavar asher atah oseh—What you are doing is not good. Navol tibol gam atah gam ha’am hazeh asher imach ki chaveid mimcha hadavar lo tuchal asohu levadecha—You are going to wear yourself out, both you and these people who are with you, for the matter is too heavy for you; you cannot do it alone.”
He then proposes a decentralized model of leadership, empowering others to take on responsibility. Moshe, despite his Divine appointment, listens. He adapts. He shares leadership.
This moment is powerful. It shows that authority must be tempered with humility and that true influence often comes not from knowing all the answers but from knowing how and when to empower others. This is also exemplified by Yitro himself when he says, “Atah shema b’koli iatzcha—Now listen to me, I will give you counsel” (Shemot 18:19). He gives advice, not commands, provides direction, not directives.
This is Jewish leadership. Not dominance, but empowerment. Not command, but connection.
The Jewish communal world offers a unique leadership laboratory. We operate in mission-driven environments where authority is often diffuse and influence is everything. A shul president may have technical authority, but a long-time congregant or respected community member may hold more sway. An executive director might control the budget, but an educator or rabbi might hold the emotional loyalty of the stakeholders. This complexity can be frustrating—but it’s also beautiful. It demands leaders who are emotionally intelligent, spiritually attuned and deeply human. It reminds us that leadership is not a function of title but of trust.
Perhaps the prime exemplar of the use of influence over authority may actually be Hashem. In Parashat Ha’azinu (Devarim 32:2), the pasuk says: “Ya’arof kamatar likchi tizal katal imrati kise’irim alei deshe v’chirvivim alei eisev—My doctrine shall drop as the rain, my speech shall trickle as the dew, as the droplets on the tender grass, as the showers on the herb.”
What a beautiful description of Hashem’s teachings and guidance—His Torah—trickling down to us, growing us gently, rather than hammering on our heads and pounding us into the dirt.
The Netziv points out that when Hashem delivers His message softly, with a kol demamah dakah (a voice of thin silence), we are compelled to lean in to listen deeper, to work harder on our end to receive it. The softer the voice, the deeper the impact.
Take a moment and ask yourself: Who influences you? Is it your parent, spouse, assistant, colleague, friend, sibling? And perhaps more humbling: Whom do you influence? Through your words, yes, but perhaps even more through your silence, your actions, your timing. We live in an age saturated with “influencers,” many of whom proclaim their status loudly. But when someone tells you they are an influencer, does it make you more, or less, likely to listen?
Eighty-nine percent of business schools offer classes on how to speak and present, with very few teaching how to listen. But listening is where influence begins.
One of my personal role models for leading a life of influence was Chaim Shimon (Simon) Felder, z”l, whose first yahrtzeit will have passed when this essay is published. Reb Shimon was a true influencer. I’m not sure I even realized he was the mayor of our village on Long Island, New York, until he had already been in the role for a couple of years. I just thought everyone listened to him because he was smart. When he spoke with you, you felt he was taking you seriously, listening to you and focusing on you. No matter your age or who you were in the community. And then, subtly, he would share his thoughts and ideas and opinions. And almost always I walked away with a new perspective, a new concept, a new way of thinking about a difficult issue or question, whether it pertained to the public sphere, Torah or the Jewish community. His well-documented stories about surviving the Holocaust are surely deserving of attention. But beyond his incredible life accomplishments, he exemplified the traits of being a true influencer to everyone he met.
Real influence is usually quiet; it doesn’t need to be declared. And yet our systems rarely teach this. Eighty-nine percent of business schools offer classes on how to speak and present, with very few teaching how to listen. But listening is where influence begins. And validation is where it grows.
We respond to blessings with “amen”—a word that means “true.” Why not just stay silent? Because validation is a key element of connection, and connection is the foundation of influence. Saying “amen” is more than agreement—it’s a way of making someone else’s voice a little more real in the world. That is the essence of influence: being present, bearing witness and lending weight to someone else’s words.
Authority provides the vessel—it creates the structure within which leadership can operate. But influence is the flame. It is what warms, illuminates and sustains. As leaders—in business, in our communities and in our lives—we must cultivate both. But if we must choose which to lead with, let us begin with influence. Because when people follow you not because they have to but because they want to—that is leadership worth having.
Whether you sit at the head of the table or not, you have the power to lead—through word, action, silence and sincerity. The question is not whether you have influence. The question is: how will you use it?
Rabbi Dr. Josh Joseph is executive vice president/chief operating officer of the Orthodox Union.