Somtimes Power Is All About How You Don't Use It
And a little bit about how you do
In case you haven’t seen it yet, check out the latest iteration of Sean Shapiro’s Dallas Stars Organizational Power Rankings. Like last year’s rundown, it’s a good look at the most influential voices in what has become a $2 billion organization.
Reading through these rankings, I started thinking back on all the different companies I’ve worked for and their own power structures. Sure, most average workdays just involved staying on task and clocking in and out, but there were some instances where I became acutely aware of just who had the pull in the office, and the organization at large.
In some cases, the business was so massive that my coworkers and I only ever really interacted with my immediate supervisors, and occasionally another manager or director in a connected department. Those are, I think, the best sorts of jobs, even if they can be mundane. When I was stocking shelves at a grocery store during grad school, for example, I never felt like I was wasting my time. Someone had to make sure food was on the shelves for people to buy for their families, and I always went home with a surprising amount of satisfaction at the end of each day for having been that person, for a bit.
Sure, it was a lot of the same thing from day to day, but it mattered. And for the most part, bureaucracy was absent. It’s good to feel like what we do actually matters. We are, I think, simple creatures in that way, forever trying to escape the haunting feeling that everything we do might be meaningless.1 Personally, I derived far more joy and satisfaction from tying the shoes of a kindergarten student during Field Day than I ever did from leading an international conference call. If you’ve ever seen the final scene of Mike Judge’s Office Space, then you know what I’m talking about (proletariat grievances notwithstanding).
But in other places, I experienced the cold reality of power struggles, company politics, and competing corporate influences. I had a couple of jobs in my twenties that involved cubicles, importing/exporting (really), inventory reports, and all the exciting paperwork you’d expect to go along with those things. That made the occasional drama happening over my head that much more jarring, given the barely-real feeling of the spreadsheets, reports, and conference calls that occupied most of my time at those places.
There are always people who exercise inordinate amounts of influence on How Things Are. Working in several different industries, it was sometimes tough to compare what that influence looked like. But over time, you begin to see some common themes, even if the language varies. There is always some version of Vision, Priorities, Strategic Goals, Organization Mandates, so forth.
This is even more recognizable if you stay within the same industry when you change companies, as you get to compare practices across a similar landscape. I’d imagine people who transfer from Hunt’s to Heinz, for example, have Very Strong Opinions about a lot of similar things, such as high fructose corn syrup and whether powerful people put ketchup on steak. If I had to guess, I would say that relatives of people who work for Hunt’s or Heinz learn never to conflate “catsup” with “ketchup,” lest their entire evening be derailed by a diatribe.
For hockey players, they have the unique experience of working for one of 32 teams with ostensibly identical goals in the same marketplace. For as long as their NHL careers last, players work for either the same team or another one in the same league. Thus, they get the chance to compare what should be very similar working environments run by very different people.
Whenever players talk about why they chose to sign or re-sign with a team, we all kind of understand that they’re usually speaking delicately. Draft picks, for example, have zero choice about whom they play for at the start of their career (unless they’re, say, Justin Schultz). Thus, they’re naturally going to be shrewd enough to say good things about the team they’ve been drafted to play for, which just so happens to be the eone they were most hoping to get drafted by. It’s the same way with players who sign or re-sign with a team; the nice words may be absolutely true, but being complimentary of one’s employer is also in that player’s best interest.
To get a more accurate picture of how power is wielded in an organization as big and profitable as the Dallas Stars, you have to look deeper. Sean mentions right at the start of his rankings that he’s drawing on 13 years of institutional knowledge and reporting in putting together his list, for example. The average fan, in putting together their own list, would probably focus mostly on the star players, and maybe a couple of people atop the hockey operatations hierarchy. And teams usually prefer that to be the case, as high-performing players are extremely marketable (and usually replaceable, if necessary). If there’s a hockey team out there where the owner is the first person that comes to mind when a fan thinks about them, it’s probably not for good reasons, like in Buffalo.
In Dallas, however, Tom Gaglardi first made his mark on the team by investing in it—something absent from bankruptcy that colored Glen Gulutzan’s first coaching stint. That investment has continued over a decade later, as the Stars have generally spent up to the salary cap (and even a bit over, like last year) while also investing in facility upgrades, their AHL team, and even launching Victory+ in a media landscape with a whole lot of uncertainty. The fact that an ice hockey team in Dallas “feels” much richer than the one in upstate New York is a testament to the breadth of Gaglardi’s investment.
But when it comes to who holds the power in the organization—or any organization—I really do think the strongest indicator of organization health is the degree to which the powerful people don’t exert undue influence. Yes, any organization’s ownership and inner circle of advisors have to steer the ship and make tough choices, but there is more than one hockey team in the NHL where an owner or a GM rules the team with what feels much more like an iron fist than a steady hand.
Even worse than that, some teams have even appeared to be dictated by utter caprice, where the ostensible “plan” changes regularly. If you haven’t yet, do read this excellent piece by Ian Mendes (who is now VP of Communications for the Senators). The former journalist detailed the unpredictable nature of his relationship with the late Eugene Melnyk, and how a once-strong rapport disappeared without a clear explanation while similarly odd decisions were being made throughout the organization. That sort of change was unfortunately typical of Melnyk’s later years running the Senators, which included a high level of dysfunction, paranoia, and even bitter disputes with beloved players.
In hockey, and in most any company, the best-case scenario is for owners to hire the right people and to trust them to do their jobs, while encouraging that same sort of management approach all the way down. Jim Nill remains the best example of this principle working itself out to the Stars’ benefit, as he is invariably first in line to accept responsbility and last to seek credit.
That humility really sticks out when I think about who the powerful people are in the Dallas Stars, or in any organization, I can’t help but think about how dangerous power can be, if you let it. It’s no accident that our culture has an endless supply of stories and axioms about the corrupting nature of power and the virtue of humility. When you have the ability to make the world (or even a small part of it) in your own image, it’s incredibly hard to resist the temptation to do so.
A brief story: In one of my first jobs out of college, I worked in an office attached to a large warehouse and distribution center. After a couple of years, I got promoted to a position of very minor responsibilty and oversight. I even got to got on a couple of business trips, which for a 24-year-old felt like basically starring on Mad Men.
One day, I asked another department supervisor about how to use our allotted 10% employee discount to buy a replacement part for one of the things the company made. That’s when this supervisor lowered his voice and told me which warehouse guy to talk to, because that guy could “down-adjust” that part from the inventory for me on the sly, rather than my spending $40 to buy it legitimately.
It struck me even then just how petty that sort of theft was (and how stupid to do so in a way that was so obviously traceable). Here was someone entrusted with only a tiny bit of responsibility for the organization, and he didn’t hesitate to twist that power to his own advantage. I never found out exactly why, but both that supervisor and the warehouse guy were no longer with the company six months after that.
Those kinds of temptations are common to any position of power, I think: to finally get what’s coming to you, to “cash in” your hard work for the perks you decide you deserve. In other words, a little bit of power usually demands that you decide exactly which rules will no longer apply to you.
According to Kenny Jacoby, someone who was on that list in Dallas last year (and no longer is) used their power for his own financial gain. We don’t know exactly how things shook out behind the scenes, other than that all three employees named in Jacoby’s article are no longer with the Stars. Tom Gaglardi acknowledged that a former group of employees “made some mistakes,” but that the Stars addressed the issue once they became aware of it.
Power is an intoxicating thing. But sometimes that heady feeling of your own importance can affect the clarity of your vision if you don’t have humility for ballast. Nobody can outrun natural consequences forever.
Power in a hockey team is even trickier for players themselves wielding influence. In most industries, it’s impossible to exercise real sway in your company until you climb the ladder into an executive position. But in professional sports, the status and celebrity accorded to star players can give them more pull than the average employee would ever dream of. That comes with its own risks, as superstars are often portrayed as dictating everything from trades to coaching hires. That’s rarely a good thing for anyone, long-term.
You’ll note two Stars players mentioned on the power rankings list. Neither player is known for Nathan MacKinnon-like control over what foods are (or aren’t) served to players, but influence on a team can show up in a variety of ways. If you spend time in the dressing room after a Stars morning skate, you’ll notice all the different ways players manage their body language. Some are loudly carefree, others are businesslike and withdrawn. None of these is good or bad, in a vacuum. But time and again, Jake Oettinger’s relaxed confidence and attentive conversation strikes visiting media members as remarkable for any player, let alone for an NHL goaltender of his caliber.
I’ve wondered how the average person would manage that level of scrutiny, and I think most of us would probably tend to be quick and quiet after practice, hoping to get in and out of Dodge with the minimal amount of questions. Just imagine people waiting with cameras and microphones to grill you right after you finished a shift of work at your own job, changing out of sweat-soaked clothes. I don’t think most of us would be too eager for a chat.
Oettinger’s power in this organization is unique in that regard. Sure, you can speculate about how influential he is behind the scenes, and whether he had any influence on Jim Nill’s decision to move on from Pete DeBoer. But we really don’t know if he said anything different than what we heard publicly.
What we do know is that Oettinger gains outside respect off the ice as much by what he does as by what he doesn’t do.
This is a player who says his goal is to be the best goaltender in the world, and he’s not terribly far off from that point. Oettinger has played the second-most playoff games of any NHL goalie since 2022, but rather than focusing on his own goals with the public, manical obsession so common in professional sports, Oettinger instead works hard without being hard to work with. He exhibits poise, decency, humility, and kindness to everyone I’ve ever seen him interact with. Sure, that doesn’t give him a free pass when he makes mistakes on the ice, but hockey is a game built on the relationships and camaraderie off the ice, too. You don’t have to be tyrannical to command respect, and you don’t have to be a total weirdo to win in the NHL.
But yes, I hear you: Oettinger will and should be judged as a hockey player by how he plays in the biggest moments. Among the 14 goalies who have played at least 750 playoff minutes since 2022, Oettinger ranks 7th in save percentage—right in the middle, but also just two spots behind Sergei Bobrovsky, who has won two Stanley Cups. And well ahead of Andrei Vasilevskiy, Linus Ullmark, Connor Hellebuyck, and yes, Stuart Skinner. Not good enough, absolutely—but not all that far off, either.
If Oettinger can keep climbing up that list, his influence over the organization at large will likely grow along with it. Until he does, he’ll remain where he is right now: Highly respected and even influential, but with a couple of notable absences on his resumé.
As for the other Stars player on that list, Jason Robertson’s influence is a different sort of thing from Oettinger’s.
One similarity is their work ethic, of course. Robertson works on his own game year-round, as a player who knew from the very start of his career that achieving great things would only come if he kept pushing himself. His dedication to his craft is unquestioned, but like Oettinger, he hasn’t always been at his best when the playoffs have arrived.
Whether the Stars end up signing Robertson long-term is a fascinating question, because he is a fascinating player. Like Oettinger, Robertson has shown moments of incredible excellence, winning playoff games almost singlehandedly. But he has also had a few playoff series where his normal excellence gets stifled, and others have to find a way to get the team over the hump.
Robertson, like Oettinger, is also a fan-favorite2 who has done some remarkable things, not least of which was his 109-point season in 2022-23. Robertson already has five hat tricks in his young career, just two fewer than the seven amassed by each of Jamie Benn, Tyler Seguin, and Mike Modano. The Stars haven’t had a goal-scorer like Robertson in a long, long time.
Robertson knows that, too. He didn’t opt for a long-term contract at a team-friendly number in his last round of negotiations, and he and the Stars had to grind out the eventual four-year deal right before the first game of the season (at what turned out to still be a pretty team-friendly number, albeit less so for a bridge deal).
With Robertson entering the final year of his contract, there has been a ton of talk about the Stars supposedly looking at what they could get for Robertson in trade. Thus far, nothing has come of that talk. In theory, the Stars don’t have to decide on Robertson’s future until next summer, when he enters the final year of team control as a restricted free agent.
In the meantime, Robertson will continue to be one of those bellwether players for this team, with all the influence that goes along with it. It’s not by chance that the Stars finally started winning with consistency last season at the same time Robertson began scoring like his old (young) self. Even with Mikko Rantanen’s arrival, there is every likelihood that as Robertson goes, so go the Stars. Elite scorers tend to have that effect.
Parents know better than anyone that responsibility is far more about service than about privilege. You have absolute control over the life of another human, but what that “power” looks like is almost entirely devoid of glamor: Sleepless nights, diaper changes, and crumbs in the seat cushions for years and years and years. And if you’re lucky, someday all of that investment will result in a modicum of returned respect, and a lot of love.
That’s the real nature of power, I think. You can get it in a lot of ways, but keeping it, and deserving to, demands tireless work and earned respect. Even an NHL team can get a bit fortunate and win a Stanley Cup once in a while (like the 2019 Blues), but getting back up the mountain consistently demands a foundation built on something much more potent than lightning in a bottle. You need everyone to care about doing what is best not just for themselves, but for everyone around them, day after day.
These Stars emerged from the investment of a committed owner, and they’ve stayed competitive through the wisdom and vision of those who have been entrusted with that investment. Some of those people do their work on camera, and a whole lot more of them don’t.
All of them, however, are working toward the same goal. Because if the Stars’ performance on the ice this year finally results in the ultimate prize, the power and the glory will be shared by every one of them—from the most powerful to the least.
Ecc. 1:3
Anecdotally speaking, there have been quite a few times over the past couple of years where I’ve been talking to someone who doesn’t follow the Stars very closely, but the one player they do know about is Jason Robertson.




Excellent article Robert! This could be written about anything and, in many ways, has nothing to do with hockey. Share some really great life wisdom.
I'm reminded of two proverbs:
1. Wisdom comes from experience. Experience comes from a lack of wisdom.
2. Give a little man a little power and he'll become a little tyrant. (That's regarding your warehouse mgr who abused his power for petty theft).
I was riveted to this piece from start to finish. So well written and clearly expressed.
My first c/o was lazy, practiced blame almost exclusively, failed to delegate well, and was entirely self-centered. He was focused on his own advancement to the detriment of everyone around him. He ultimately failed to advance very far precisely because he never differentiate between being a leader and being the leader. A miserable experience that helped me be a better c/o when it was my turn.