Embrace the Politics: It’s Not as Bad as You Think

Why Meetings, Syncs, and Team Alignment Are Your Path to Senior Engineering Success

Photo by Dylan Gillis on Unsplash

Ever wonder why, as you climb the software engineering ladder, your calendar fills with meetings, cross-team syncs, and—yes—politics? If you’re aiming for a senior role, here’s the truth: navigating meetings, aligning teams, and managing “politics” (think consensus-building, not office drama) isn’t a distraction—it’s your job. Embrace it to unlock your impact.

I used to believe that if I just focused on building great software, everything else would fall into place. I thought meetings were distractions, and “getting buy-in” was something managers worried about, not engineers. My comfort zone was my code editor, not a conference room or a Slack thread with product and marketing. But as I moved closer to a senior engineer role, reality hit me: the higher you go, the more your impact depends on your ability to communicate, collaborate, and influence—not just your technical chops.

The School of Individual Achievement

Looking back, I realize my mindset wasn’t just shaped by how I was taught to succeed—it was also how I was raised. In school, everything revolved around a single authority figure—the professor. The rules were clear: listen, don’t question, and focus on your own work. Your grade depended on individual performance, not collaboration.

But it went deeper than that. Growing up, my parents, like many who value discipline, emphasized silent hard work and respect for authority—values common across cultures but limiting in collaborative settings. Success meant keeping your head down, doing what you were told, and letting your results speak for themselves. Questioning decisions or advocating for myself? That felt like disrespect.

So when I started my career, I carried those lessons with me. I treated my manager like my professor and my tasks like assignments—finish them well, and you’ll be rewarded. I thought my job was to solve tickets, write clean code, and avoid distractions. Meetings, cross-team discussions, and “office politics” weren’t just annoyances; they felt like failures of the system.

But here’s the problem: what got me here wouldn’t get me there.

Early Jobs That Taught Me the Wrong Lesson

My first few jobs didn’t just tolerate my "head down, tickets only" approach—they rewarded it. At traditional companies (especially those where software wasn’t the core product), engineers were treated as executors, not thinkers. My managers would hand me specs with pixel-perfect mockups and deadlines already set. My job was to build exactly what was asked, no questions, no pushback.

For a while, this felt right. After all, it matched everything I’d been taught:

• Authority knew best. ("The product manager decided this—just code it.")

• Individual output mattered most. ("You finished early? Great, here’s another ticket.")

• Collaboration was overhead. ("Meetings are a waste of dev time.")

But here’s the problem: this model only works if building software is like assembling furniture—where instructions are clear, outcomes are predictable, and users behave exactly as expected.

Spoiler: It’s not.

How have your upbringing or early career experiences shaped your view of collaboration or authority?

The Hard Truth About Software (and Why Solo Work Fails)

Most features don’t succeed—not because engineers aren’t skilled, but because predicting user behavior is incredibly difficult. Even the best ideas, built perfectly to spec, often flop when exposed to real users. This isn’t just anecdotal: it’s backed by data from some of the world’s top tech companies.

For example, Microsoft shared a reporting mentioning that “only about one-third of experiments were successful at improving the key metric”;

This is why collaborative work is so critical in software engineering. When failure is the norm, learning quickly and iterating together is far more effective than working in isolation. Multiple perspectives and open feedback loops help teams spot issues, refine ideas, and ultimately build features that actually matter to users.

Learning to Build Beyond the Code

When I joined my next company, I immediately sensed things were different. Here, collaboration wasn’t just a buzzword—it was the heartbeat of how work got done. Meetings weren’t viewed as a necessary evil, but as essential moments to align, challenge, and refine ideas. For the first time, I was surrounded by not just engineers, but whole departments—data, marketing, customer support—many of whom I’d never even met before.

I quickly learned that features didn’t simply appear as tickets in the backlog, waiting for a solo coder to pick them up. Before a single line of code was written, there were questions to answer and bridges to build:

• Have you synced with the data team? How will the new data be stored, ingested, and tracked? Are we measuring the right things, and do our metrics follow the established naming conventions?

• Have you looped in marketing? What’s the go-to-market plan? Which regions will get the feature first, and how will the launch be coordinated?

• Have you checked with support? Are there new edge cases or workflows that might confuse users? Does documentation need updating?

This was systems thinking in action—zooming out to see how every change rippled across the organization. It was exhilarating, but honestly? It was also exhausting.

As an introvert, the sudden uptick in meetings left me drained. But it was more than just being tired—I suffered from social anxiety. Just thinking about meeting with people from other departments made my heart race. My hands would get cold and clammy, and my voice would sometimes shake when I spoke up. Negotiating priorities, reading the room, or even just introducing myself to someone new felt like climbing a mountain.

Suddenly, I realized that everything I had learned from school and my parents—the lessons about respecting authority without question, focusing solely on individual tasks, and working hard in silence—hadn’t prepared me for this reality. The real world was the exact opposite. Success here meant speaking up, building relationships, and thinking holistically.

But despite the discomfort and anxiety, I started to see the impact. Features launched more smoothly. Problems were caught early, not after release. I was finally building things that truly worked—not just technically, but for the business and its users.

What’s a recent project where cross-team collaboration made a difference—or could have?

Embracing Soft Skills: From Survival to Enjoyment

The first and hardest step was simply accepting reality: if I wanted to grow in my career—and, honestly, just make my daily work less painful—I had to develop my soft skills. Being thrown into meetings and cross-team discussions without these abilities felt like being tossed into deep water without knowing how to swim. Every interaction was exhausting, and every presentation felt like a near-drowning experience.

Once I accepted this, my “nerd mode” kicked in. I approached soft skills the same way I’d tackle a new programming language or framework: by devouring every resource I could find. I read books and articles on public speaking, body language, social anxiety, and self-confidence. I signed up for in-person trainings and online courses. I even watched YouTube videos about radical acceptance and how to stay calm under pressure.

But theory alone wasn’t enough. I knew I had to put these ideas into practice, so I started with small, manageable steps. My first “public speaking” gig was just a short presentation for my immediate team. It was nerve-wracking, but each time I practiced, it got a little easier. I learned to celebrate these small wins, and over time, my confidence grew.

And here’s the surprising part: public speaking, once my greatest fear, actually became kind of fun. Like any technical skill, the basics can be learned, practiced, and improved. I’d even go so far as to say it gets a bit addicting—the rush of sharing your ideas and connecting with people is real.

So if you’re struggling with this side of the job, know that you’re not alone. It’s awkward at first, but it gets better. And who knows—you might even learn to love it.

What’s one soft skill you’re hesitant to develop, and what’s holding you back?

Key Takeaways

If you’ve made it this far, you already know the hard truth: being a senior software engineer isn’t just about writing clean, efficient code. It’s about working with people—across teams, departments, and sometimes even competing priorities—and influencing outcomes beyond your keyboard.

Let’s be real: sometimes, the “politics” can feel like too much. You’ll encounter people who seem more interested in defending their own turf than doing what’s best for the company. You’ll run into a lack of transparency, or get pulled into meetings that could’ve easily been emails. These frustrations are real, and they can be draining.

But here’s the other side: most of the complexity and friction isn’t because people are bad—it’s just the reality of working in a medium or large organization. When there are dozens or hundreds of people all trying to move in the same direction, coordination is hard. Misunderstandings happen. Priorities clash. And yes, sometimes bureaucracy creeps in.

The key is to recognize that while some politics is unnecessary, much of what feels like “politics” is actually just the challenge of aligning lots of smart, passionate people. Learning to navigate this—not just tolerate it—makes your job less painful and your impact much greater.

So, start by accepting that soft skills are part of your engineering toolbox. Take small, deliberate steps: prepare for meetings, practice speaking up, and build relationships across teams. Over time, you’ll find that these efforts not only make your work more effective, but can even make it enjoyable.

Embrace the messy, human side of engineering—it’s where your real impact lies.

What’s one conversation you’ll start this week to grow your influence?