Early in my time at JATO, I was mandated to improve the quality of the data. I started off with understanding the gaps and the type of issues the then existing data had. Immediately realized that this could not be done without support from global colleagues who were experienced and knew what needed to be done. So I reached out expecting they would come to my rescue.

Help did come but in fits and starts. I got the message.

I hadn't yet earned the right to ask. I hadn't deposited anything. I was trying to withdraw from an account I hadn't opened.

So I stopped asking. I organised my local team. Rallied what I called a ‘war cry’ with strict deadlines, clear ownership, updates twice a day, visible progress. The data quality massively improved by several percentage points in matter of three months.

The project got visibility in the HQ. People's perception changed and I was seen as someone who could get things done, who could be trusted to deliver.

Obviously, I got the confidence but more importantly my conscience was clear. Then, I started offering. Started asking peers if there was anything I could help with. Started looking for the places where someone was stuck and I could move something for them.

That was the start, not tactics but shift in my thinking, in my approach. From withdrawing to depositing.

For a period I led the India research team. All talented, great attitude, highly skilled, in fact some of the best I've worked with. That chapter ended and I moved on, they moved on, different roles, different parts of the business, some left entirely. None of them report to me now. None of them are even in my department.

Last week I needed some analysis done on some of the data. I sent a Teams message to one of the guys, short one line message with no context, no asking if they had the time.

A day later I had the full detailed analysis in my inbox.

Not because they had to. Not out of habit or obligation. Not because I was their boss, I haven't been their boss for a long time. But because somewhere in the years we worked together, I hope I had deposited enough trust that when I needed to make a withdrawal, the account was still open.

Recently, a leader running operations in America needed a person urgently for a project. She asked for support in a team meeting. I know what that pressure feels like on the leader, on the team absorbing the extra load. Anyone in the call could pitch in. But I jumped on it.

During the call itself, I messaged one of the managers about any buffer capacity in her team and told her to evaluate the possibility and that we’ll discuss the next day.

I discussed with my manager next morning, asked her to free up a resource for a month. She said it may not be possible. So we looked harder, examined workloads, looked at tasks, had a few discussions in that day, back n forth me with her, she with her team. Eventually identified three people who could give two to three hours each per day for two months. Not ideal but workable.

I messaged the American leader my end of day, her start of the day. She was so thankful. That’s a deposit.

This thing happened few months ago, which is more interesting.

Another function leader in automation wanted a few people to test a new tool they had built in pilot. I got five volunteers immediately. One of them (someone I had already been trying to push toward expanding his skills into automation) identified several bugs in the tool and made real, substantive suggestions to improve it.

The automation leader came to me afterward and asked if this person could move to her team full time.

Now, I could have said no. He was good, was genuinely contributing, adding value to my team. I had invested in developing him. And not to mention having to backfill his role with new person taking time to become productive and not only that, till that happened, it would be additional load on the team. The natural instinct is to protect that.

But there’s another way to think. He would be supporting other areas of the business. He would grow faster in her team than he would staying where he was. And what if he left entirely? At least this way the company keeps the talent and he keeps developing.

We decided on the transition and let him go.

He is still with her. Still developing new tools, new automations. Genuinely thriving.

That outcome, his growth, her trust in me, the business benefit came from the decision to not hold on. You don't know what's next for someone if you won't let them find out. That was another deposit made.

Not in the expectation to withdraw, but genuinely leaving deposits where ever you go.

That's what relationship currency actually is. It’s not network, not connections, not people who will help you because they need something back. It's the trust that keeps the account open long after the job changes.

You don't build that by being likeable. You build it by being worth something to people when it matters.

— Pankaj

Footnote: When AI agents become prevalent in organisations that will execute tasks, manage workflows, coordinate across functions, AI Agent Manager roles will get created, i.e., humans overseeing networks of agents rather than teams of people.

While the technical side will be learnable, the soft power, building relationship currency with humans when your team is increasingly non-human is going to be a challenge. Who vouches for you? Who sends the analysis without being asked?

The deposit-withdrawal model doesn't disappear, just gets harder to build.

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