🤔 Dear Lewis, how do I handle subtle threats after speaking up?

When gratitude becomes a trap and cultural differences amplify power dynamics, the path forward requires more than Western assertiveness—it demands strategic finesse.

Hey, it's Lewis. Most leadership and career advice feels like it was written by someone who's never actually managed people or navigated a layoff. This newsletter is built from the scar tissue of real moments.

Every week, I share real leadership stories, frameworks, and strategies from my executive coaching practice—all anonymized but absolutely authentic.

Here's what paid subscribers get:

• Executive Coaching: DM me your work and career challenges for personalized guidance

• Battle-Tested Frameworks: Actionable techniques from $1000+/hr coaching sessions

• Complete Access: All premium content including scripts, templates, and frameworks

P.S. Get my Convince Your Manager template to expense this subscription.

Here we are again, my friends, back for another installment where I share real (but anonymized) stories from my coaching practice.

"I think I've accidentally locked myself in a cage of my own making," Bin (not his real name) told me during our session. A product manager who'd been introduced to his current role by Alex, a senior engineering manager with a deep Chinese cultural background.

"The crazy thing is, I'm genuinely grateful to him," Bin continued, coffee cooling forgotten. "But that gratitude has morphed into this... obligation monster eating my ability to do my job."

The gratitude trap. That peculiar psychological quicksand where appreciation transforms into an emotional debt seemingly impossible to repay. Add Chinese cultural expectations? That's quicksand with cement mixed in.

Bin explained their recent breaking point: a product disagreement where Alex made what felt like a veiled threat. His team—all Chinese professionals who came to the US for education—stared silently at their screens. Nobody challenged him.

"I'm the PM! I'm supposed to be customer-obsessed! But this voice keeps saying, 'He gave you this job, you owe him...'"

Most Western coaching would take a predictable turn: assert yourself! Stand your ground! But that approach misses the cultural nuances entirely. In Chinese professional dynamics, direct confrontation isn't just uncomfortable—it's relationship suicide.

What Bin needed wasn't instructions on being more assertive. He needed a framework honoring both his professional integrity AND cultural context.

That's when we developed the RIVER framework—because like a river, it finds its way forward without directly confronting every obstacle.

R: Reframe the Relationship Balance

"Alex didn't introduce you to this role as charity," I explained. "He's benefiting tremendously from having a PM with your customer background. You've covered operational gaps for his team repeatedly. This is mutual value exchange."

The light that dawned in Bin's eyes was something to behold.

We created thought interruptions to replace: "I shouldn't push back because I owe Alex for this job." With: "My customer insights have saved this team significant resources. We contribute different but equal value."

I: Indirect Influence Pathways

"Bin looked relieved when I confirmed his instinct that direct pushback would likely damage his relationship with Alex beyond repair. 'If direct confrontation isn't culturally appropriate—and in this case it absolutely isn't—then we need to create alternative influence channels that preserve face while still advocating for customers.'"

Most Western professionals see only two options: confront or capitulate. But Chinese professional contexts offer a sophisticated middle way—what I call "indirect influence architecture."

We built three key approaches:

The Ambient Introduction

Bin identified two respected senior engineers on Alex's team. He began sharing customer insights with them outside formal meetings, creating allies who understood both the customer pain points and the cultural dynamics at play.

During one critical decision, Alex announced a direction Bin knew would create customer issues. Rather than challenging directly, one of these engineers organically raised the concern, citing Bin's data.

"Alex completely changed course," Bin told me later, his expression a mixture of relief and vindication. "And later praised me for having 'such customer-focused engineers' on the project. The irony wasn't lost on me."

The Question Strategy

Influence doesn't always require statements—sometimes it flowers from well-planted questions. Instead of declarations that trigger defensiveness, Bin shifted to thoughtful inquiry: