Every now and then you meet a person who makes you think:

“I want things to work out for them.”

Not because they’re loud, or charming in a flashy way, or aggressively persuasive. Just because they come across as:

  • grounded
  • honest
  • and fundamentally reasonable.

When those people walk into rooms where decisions get made – interviews, panels, negotiations, reviews – they carry a quiet advantage. Even if the outcome goes against them, you can feel the room leaning towards them.

This is a real skill, even though it looks like “just being yourself”.

In this post, I want to look at it from a psychological angle:

  • what this strength actually is,
  • why it matters in high-stakes settings,
  • and how to amplify it without turning into a performer or a manipulator.

What is this strength, exactly?

It’s not “being nice”.

If you strip it down, it’s a combination of three things:

  1. Credibility – people believe you’re telling the truth as you see it.
  2. Reasonableness – you seem able to hold more than one perspective at once.
  3. Emotional tone – you stay calm and self-respecting, even when you’re under pressure.

When that mix shows up in a formal situation – a decision-maker listening to your explanation, a manager evaluating you, someone in authority hearing your complaint – the internal response is often:

“This person is not trying to play me. I might not be able to give them what they want, but I want to treat them fairly.”

You can’t always see that explicitly. It appears in small ways:

  • They give you space to finish your points.
  • They ask clarifying questions instead of shutting you down.
  • They push back more on vague or evasive statements from the other side than on yours.
  • They explain their decision to you as if you deserve to understand it, even if the answer is “no”.

That is not an accident. It’s a psychological effect you are creating, whether consciously or not.

Why this matters more than we admit

We like to pretend that decisions are made purely on logic and rules. Especially in systems that claim to be neutral or objective.

In reality, human judgement sits on top of all of that:

  • Who seems credible?
  • Who seems to be arguing in good faith?
  • Who seems to understand there are constraints on the other side too?
  • Who feels like they’d probably act fairly if the roles were reversed?

When you come across as this type of person, a few good things happen:

  • People relax their guard. They don’t feel the need to defend themselves against you.
  • They work harder to see your side of the story.
  • If they have any discretion at all, they are more likely to use it in your favour.
  • Even when they can’t, they are more willing to signpost other options, give you information, or help you indirectly.

It doesn’t mean you “win” every interaction. But it changes the quality of the interactions you have.

If you already have this effect on people, it’s worth treating it as a strength to invest in, not just a personality quirk.

The psychology underneath

From a psychological point of view, this strength tends to rest on three habits:

1. You signal that you see the other person as human, not just as a role

Many people approach decision-makers as:

  • The enemy (“you’re blocking me”), or
  • A vending machine for outcomes (“I press the right buttons and you pay out”).

If you implicitly treat the other person as someone whose position is also constrained – who has rules, responsibilities, and their own fear of making a mistake – you talk differently.

You are more likely to say things like:

  • “I understand you have to apply the rules as they are.”
  • “From your side, this might look like X; from my side it felt like Y.”

That’s not submission. It’s recognition. Psychologically, it moves the interaction from adversarial to collaborative, even if the context is formally adversarial.

2. You are honest about your own limitations

Most people try to tidy up their story in hindsight. They present themselves as if they always knew the rules, always had control, always did the “right” thing.

The problem is: decision-makers see that performance all day.

By contrast, if you can calmly say:

  • “At the time, I misunderstood how this worked.”
  • “I didn’t realise there was a different route. I see that now.”
  • “Looking back, I should have done X earlier; here is why I didn’t.”

…it reads as real. You’re not pretending to be perfect. You are showing your actual thinking process. That tends to increase trust, not decrease it.

3. You separate structure from individuals

You can be critical of a system without attacking the person in front of you.

When you say, in effect:

“I think the way this is set up produces unfair outcomes in cases like mine. I’m not saying you personally invented it, but I want to put that on the record.”

…you give the person space to join you, mentally, in recognising the flaw, instead of forcing them to defend the entire system.

Psychologically, that moves them slightly towards your side of the table.

How to amplify this strength deliberately

If you already tend to be liked and respected by decision-makers, it’s worth asking:

“How do I use this consciously, without turning into a performer?”

Here are a few ways.

1. Decide your tone before you walk in

You can’t control the outcome, but you can control the tone you want to bring.

For example:

  • Calm
  • Precise
  • Not defensive
  • Curious about how the other side sees it

Setting that intention sounds trivial, but it changes how you respond to the first difficult question.

2. Name constraints on both sides

Instead of focusing only on how constrained you are, say something like:

  • “I know you have a framework you have to work within.”
  • “You’re probably seeing dozens of cases; from my side this feels like a one-off, but I understand for you it’s part of a pattern.”

That signals perspective-taking. It’s a key ingredient of being someone others want to help.

3. Protect your position without becoming combative

You can disagree without being abrasive.

Simple phrases:

  • “I don’t recognise that as an accurate summary of my position.”
  • “That isn’t how I experienced it; may I explain briefly?”
  • “Could you point me to where that is recorded in what I originally wrote?”

These are calm, non-theatrical ways to push back. They say: “I’m paying attention; I’m not here to be walked over” – without tipping into attack mode.

4. Keep your story aligned with reality, not with what “sounds good”

If you have the kind of mind that likes to tidy and optimise, it’s tempting to over-edit your story.

It’s often more persuasive to say:

  • “Here is the part I got wrong.”
  • “Here is the assumption I was operating under, which turned out to be false.”
  • “Here is how I would handle it differently now.”

Decision-makers care less about perfection and more about whether you are in contact with reality.

Taking maximum advantage without feeling manipulative

There’s a difference between using a strength and weaponising it.

To stay on the right side of that line, I find two questions useful:

  1. Is what I’m saying true? If I stripped out the tone and the phrasing, does the core of it match what actually happened and what I actually believe?

  2. Would I be comfortable if this interaction were recorded and played back later? Not in the sense of “did I sound smooth”, but: “Did I treat everyone involved with basic respect and honesty?”

If the answer to both is yes, then you’re not manipulating. You’re simply presenting your case in a way that does justice to yourself and to the person listening.

The fact that you happen to be good at that – that people in authority tend to like you and quietly side with you, even when they can’t give you what you want – is not something to feel suspicious about.

It’s a strength.

You can lean into it deliberately. Not to guarantee outcomes, but to make sure that when outcomes go against you, it is because of the structure, not because of how you showed up.

And if you are going to live in a world built on systems you did not design, that’s a useful kind of power to have.