What is the value you bring?

I don’t recall exactly who was it that told me that adding value is the key to achieving more in life. Most people imagine value as something loud, like maybe a big idea, a bold move, a breakthrough moment. But the older I get, the more I realise value rarely arrives dressed like that. It shows up quietly, in the way you observe, in the way you listen, in the way you intervene at the right moments without making the entire room aware of it.

Value is context. It’s understanding the situation better than most people do. It’s walking into a business and seeing not just what is happening, but why it’s happening, and what will happen if nothing changes. I’ve seen businesses where the numbers look fine but the internal machinery is tired. I’ve seen founders who carry more of the organisation in their head than their team realises, and obviously vice versa. And in those moments, adding value isn’t about telling them what to do. It’s recognising what they already know but haven’t said out loud. In the vice versa situation, I kept my mouth shut.

There’s a version of value that is structural, the kind that comes from experience, frameworks and the patterns you’ve seen before. Having lived through fundraising cycles, buy and sell-side decisions and operational rebuilds, I’ve learned that most people don’t need someone to give them answers. They need someone to help them ask the right questions. Sometimes value is the willingness to step into the mess that others avoid. A clear example is volunteering to fix the broken process nobody wants to touch, the relationship everyone tiptoes around, the conversation that needs a clearer voice. You add value simply by bringing clarity into places where things have started to blur.

Another form of value sits in discipline. People underestimate how rare consistency is. When you show up on time, when you deliver the work you promised, when you follow through without needing reminders, it sounds basic and common sensical (I will cover my learnings on this in another essay), but that’s the point. Most problems don’t come from brilliance; they come from inconsistency. One of the simplest ways to add value is to be the person others know they can rely on, even when the room gets chaotic or the plan shifts. Stability is a contribution.

Then there’s the type of value that emerges only when you’re willing to see things from the ground up. I’ve sat in my father’s practice, watching my mother run operations with muscle memory. I’ve seen how much they hold together on instinct, without systems or support. It reminds me that value often comes from respecting what already exists before attempting to “fix” anything. You can’t add value to a place you haven’t taken the time to understand. Sometimes the most meaningful contribution is to pay attention before making a move.

Value also comes from emotional range and the ability to understand people, not just numbers. Businesses are built on human behaviour. When someone feels unheard, they underperform. When someone feels respected, they stretch. When someone feels safe, they tell the truth you need to hear. This is the part of value that rarely shows up on a spreadsheet but shapes everything behind the scenes. If you can create a space where people feel capable and accountable, you’re already adding value in a way that compounds.

And perhaps the last form of value is perspective. Not the kind that comes from platitudes, but the kind that comes from having been through enough cycles to know what matters and what doesn’t. When you’ve had wins, failed at things, watched deals fall apart, seen founders tire out, and helped others rebuild, you start to see patterns in the noise. You know when to push, when to wait, when to hold the line, and when to let go. That judgement becomes valuable in every room you walk into, not because you’re the smartest, but because you’ve seen how these stories play out.

At the end of the day, adding value is not about intensity. It’s about awareness. It’s the accumulation of everything you’ve lived, seen and learned and expressed in the smallest, most intentional actions. And the strange part is the more you focus on being useful instead of being impressive, the more people will turn to you when it matters.

I think that value is not something you announce. It’s something others feel.