Powerplay

I watched a [slow-motion] car crash unfold last year.

It happened in the NAME region [North Africa and the Middle East].

Our CEO fired their top sales guy. Victor was an absolute sales machine. He brought in massive revenue quarter after quarter.

But he was also a total nightmare.

Victor was incredibly arrogant. He genuinely thought he owned the place and that rules didn’t apply to him. He was a walking psychological liability.

No one, except his gang in NAME, appreciated his presence and need to assert dominance wherever he went.

The Psychological Trigger

The real issue wasn’t just his terrible attitude. It was deeply psychological.

Victor knew his exact worth. He used it as a weapon against leadership. Every single Monday, we held our global executive meetings. Victor always flexed his sales muscles during these sessions.

He would openly interrupt the CEO. He would lean way back in his chair. He smirked at the executive board. He made [absolutely] sure everyone knew he was the golden goose. He thrived on the attention.

Then came the direct insults. Victor didn’t just disagree with the CEO. He actively berated him.

He called him an “outdated salesy” right in front of the entire board. He openly mocked the CEO’s modern strategies. He made the CEO look weak in front of his peers. The boardroom went dead silent. No one dared to speak up.

The CEO’s ego was deeply bruised. It was a massive psychological trigger. The CEO couldn’t handle being undermined by his own top performer.

The power dynamic was broken.

And Number 1 desperately needed to win.

The Final Fallout

I was just an observer to this drama. James, our HR Director, was the other observer.

We sat together in the glass conference room after the deed was done. The fallout unfolded right before our eyes.

Number 1 finally snapped under the pressure. He called Victor into his private office. It took exactly ten minutes.

James walked out of the CEO’s office first. He looked incredibly pale.

“It is finally done.”

I asked whether Victor took the news well. James shrugged his shoulders.

“He actually laughed. He said we would beg him to come back by Friday.”

I leaned back in my chair. What an arrogant prick. I felt a strange mix of relief and dread.

“The CEO’s ego won today.”

James wasn’t optimistic.

“Maybe… But Victor’s massive ego is going to cost us dearly.”

The Silent Exodus

The first month was surprisingly peaceful.

The NAME office felt much lighter. The CEO walked a lot taller. Victor was finally gone.

But that peace was just a fragile illusion. Month two hit us like a freight train.

First, Victor’s right-hand man in NAME quit without notice. Then his top setter resigned. Then his two best closers handed in their letters.

It wasn’t just a few departures. It was a coordinated walkout. The NAME region was bleeding out right before our eyes.

“They are all leaving, James.”

James nodded before responding.

“I know. Victor is starting a new firm. His loyalists are following him.”

I paused. So did James. And then he finished with this sentiment.

“Every single one. Victor built a cult. Without him, they have zero loyalty to us.”

I agree. Social forces can be complicated. Once social bonds are reinforced with financial incentives… untangling it becomes impossible.

The complete collapse

The entire NAME entity collapsed.

We lost fifteen top performers in just eight short weeks. Eight. The NAME sales pipeline dried up like the Sahara Desert. There were no organic leads.

We [finally] realized Victor’s contributions. He overcame the lack of leads with effective business networking. His deals came from people he knew in that region, country by country, city by city.

Imagine the time he spent knocking on doors. I have immense respect for him. But it was too late, of course. He left.

I stared at the dashboards in my quiet APAC office. I was being nosy.

On the NAME screen, the arrows pointed straight down. Clients were furious. Response times were terrible. We were dropping the ball constantly. We could smell panic from afar. Morale hit rock bottom.

The remaining reps needed direction. They were paralyzed by fear. No one was there to lead them.

James walked in. He closed the heavy door.

“The entity is dead.”

I shook my head. I folded my arms as he sat down.

“And now NAME is paying the heavy price. We lost our best people in that region.”

It took 2 years to build a profitable entity.

Dismantling it only took 2 months.

The brutal lesson

Rockstars can be a trap.

Arrogant ones are a huge liability. They build fiefdoms. They create cults of personality. One person can hold an entire region hostage.

The CEO fired Victor because his fragile ego was offended. Victor flexed his muscles. He insulted Number 1. And Number 1 wanted to reassert dominance.

But the CEO didn’t see the trap. He acted out of pure emotion instead of strategic logic.

When you fire a toxic rockstar, expect war.

Sycophants will walk out. Revenue will tank. The entity will collapse.

To be clear, Number 1 underestimated Victor’s contribution to the NAME region.

The close

Rebuilding NAME is painful.

The CRO and James had to start from scratch. They posted jobs everywhere and interviewed dozens of candidates. Skills were secondary. Attitude was our apex requirement. Humility was a close second.

We needed a fresh start. We needed a clean slate.

James vetted every single resume with a fine-tooth comb. The CRO found a candidate to assume Victor’s role in NAME. This guy isn’t flashy. He is grounded. Pretty likeable, too. He didn’t have massive Rolodexes. But he worked with humility.

Slowly, the NAME pipeline started filling up again. The red arrows turned green. The team got together once again. It took time.

James walked by my desk. He smiled.

“Told you so. We did not perish because of Victor the Snob.”

Victor thought he was invincible. The CEO thought he was in control. They were both wrong. The company paid a hefty price for gradual recovery.

I chewed on James’s words. Slowly.

I was trying to find something in his words to disagree with.

And I can’t.