By Marcus Coetzee, November 2026.

It’s recently occurred to me that I have a peculiar way of relating to organisations which has been with me my entire life. I’ve been reflecting on it and I’ve written this short essay to help structure my thoughts. I’m also curious how many other people operate like this, and I’m mindful that my essay might give words to their experiences.

Three principles of my approach

Below are three principles embedded in my DNA for how I engage with organisation structures. Parts of it may sound old-fashioned; perhaps even neurodivergent.

First, I am selective about any organisation I become embedded in. I will only become an integral part of an organisation – employee, interim manager or associate – if I believe in its purpose and values. I am only interested in organisations actively focused on reducing poverty, growing economies and strengthening society, and where this is their explicit purpose. It has always been this way, and I can’t imagine an alternative. Ever since I was at school, it has felt like a calling.

In terms of my career, this is why I’ve chosen to be part of charities, social research consultancies, strategy consultancies, economic-development consultancies, and think tanks.

Second, I adopt the purpose of the organisation as my job description. I have always seen my role as using my knowledge, skills, insights and networks to help the organisation achieve its purpose as quickly and thoroughly as possible. I see myself as working alongside others, each according to our expertise, to achieve this purpose, and I prefer working with people rather than alone.

In this sense, job descriptions, hierarchies, communication channels, policies and procedures are designed structures. I work within them out of respect, but I don’t see them as sacrosanct, and I will lobby to refine these systems or gain the mandate to act if they become an obvious obstacle to achieving this purpose.

Third, I respect, follow and give my loyalty to people, not positions, although the two may coincide. I respect competence and integrity in people, and would struggle to work under someone who lacked them. I don’t mind if these people are rough around the edges, neurodivergent or even unpopular at times; what matters is these two core traits. I help these leaders achieve their mission, and they enable me to do my best work. Such loyalty tends to outlast organisations. Even when these leaders and colleagues retire or move to other organisations, I still value their leadership and advice. This trait is most pronounced in organisations where I have been an integral part for several years, so it emerges over time in a considered way.

The standard of integrity I use is absolute; it comes before interpersonal loyalties. I judge it over time by observing behaviour across contexts, especially when people stick to their principles despite short- and medium-term costs to themselves or their organisation. None of the leaders I’ve been loyal to have acted unethically or against the purpose of their organisation, perhaps because this standard is so demanding.

Implications, both positive and negative

There have been significant implications of this worldview and approach.

I am in a weaker financial position than I would have been if I had been willing to work in jobs, and for organisations, not focused on social impact. The same restriction applies to organisations where the systems and behaviours don’t align with their stated purpose, or where unethical or poor conduct is tolerated. My preferences have narrowed my range of eligible positions and organisations.

I have learned the hard way, especially when I was younger, that when famous business writers advocate that employees treat their organisations as if they were their own and use their initiative to improve things, people tend to get upset when you actually do this. I had a complicated relationship with authority and hierarchy. Over time, I’ve learned to harness my natural desire to help organisations think differently and move forward, and to be more aware of the protocols and politics needed to achieve this. I also built a consulting career where this is generally expected of consultants.

I’ve admittedly been fortunate that, when leaders have moved on from organisations I’ve been immersed in, the replacement they selected has tended to have the traits I look for and has come to recognise my value, so the relationship could continue. There have been a few instances where the new CEO couldn’t see how I fitted in, or perceived me as a threat, and the relationship faded out.

I have learned that I’m most comfortable working with chairs, CEOs, directors and other executives, since they’re focused on the same types of things I think about and want to help improve. I gravitate towards strategy and the big picture. I have joked with friends that if I were employed as a bin man by my local authority, by the end of the month I’d send the head of the council a presentation on how it might improve its refuse services.

I have felt most comfortable working with a team of competent people to rethink and improve the strategy and impact of an organisation, where the focus of the team aligns with the intention of the organisation. This lends itself to smaller organisations, but equally to a distinctive strategy unit with its own identity within a larger entity. I have often done my best work as a trusted number two, working alongside a leader I respect rather than in their place.

This mode of engaging with organisations has also yielded real benefits. I have found leaders worth following, and several of these working relationships lasted between five and fifteen years. I have chosen organisations whose purpose I share, and arranged the space and responsibility to work with the flexibility I require – on the system, rather than in the system. The organisations have benefited too. My willingness to question underlying assumptions has led to changes that outlasted my involvement.

Conclusion

Writing this essay has helped me understand that my way of relating to organisations is not a phase or a quirk of circumstance. It has been consistent across almost four decades, two continents and many organisations. I’m slowly accepting that it’s simply how I am made.

I’ve also realised that this approach is not as unusual as it first seemed. Before the age of large bureaucracies, people commonly attached themselves to causes they believed in and leaders they respected, rather than to positions on an organogram. Elements of this survive today in start-ups, strategy units, research teams and political advisory roles. I suspect there are many others who quietly operate this way, and I hope this essay helps some of them put words to their experiences.

This essay also serves as a filter. Some leaders will read it and see a risk, and I’m OK with that. Others will recognise someone who will adopt their mission as his own, tell them the truth, and remain loyal long after the work is done. I have been fortunate to work with several leaders of the second kind, and these relationships have defined most of my career.

I have largely made my peace with the trade-offs. I would rather have fewer opportunities and spend my working years on things that matter. I have never lacked meaning in my work, and I hope the same for you.