
I stood in the hotel ballroom clutching my name tag, watching people work the crowd like professional hunters. Business cards flew between hands, elevator pitches rolled off tongues with practiced precision, and everyone seemed to know exactly what they were doing except me. I felt like I’d wandered into some elaborate performance where I hadn’t learned my lines. Then I noticed Tom in the corner, genuinely laughing with a small group, asking real questions about their work challenges rather than broadcasting his own accomplishments. Something about his approach felt different—authentic in a sea of artifice. Later, I learned he’d built his entire consulting practice through relationships that started exactly like this. Keith Ferrazzi captured his secret perfectly: “The currency of real networking is not greed but generosity.” Watching Tom that night, I finally understood what networking could be when you got it right.
Ferrazzi’s insight turns traditional networking on its head. Most people approach professional events like they’re shopping—scanning for useful contacts, calculating potential returns. But genuine connectors understand something revolutionary: the most powerful networks aren’t built on what you can get, but on what you can give. When you stop trying to extract value from relationships, they become infinitely more valuable. People remember the person who listened to their challenges, not the one who pitched them in the buffet line.
This isn’t just theory—some of the most successful people in business embody this philosophy every day. Adam Grant exemplifies this approach in action. Long before he became Wharton’s youngest tenured professor, Grant was known among colleagues for something unusual: he said yes to almost every request for help. Students sought his advice, fellow researchers asked him to review their work, and professionals reached out for guidance. Many warned him this generosity would derail his career—he was giving away too much time with no apparent return. Instead, something remarkable happened. When he needed 300 participants for a complex motivation study, volunteers appeared within days—many were people he’d once helped with their own research. When opportunities arose, his name was mentioned. When he published his book “Give and Take,” he had a ready network of supporters who believed in his work because they’d experienced his generosity firsthand. Grant’s success wasn’t accidental—it was the natural result of consistently putting others’ interests alongside his own.
Start by approaching networking events with a completely different question: “How can I help the people I meet today?” This shift transforms nervous energy into genuine curiosity. Listen for problems people mention in casual conversation, then think about who in your network might have solutions. Follow up with introductions, resources, or simply encouragement. Share knowledge freely—whether it’s industry insights, book recommendations, or lessons from your own mistakes. When you hear about someone’s success, celebrate it publicly. Send congratulations, share their achievements on social media, or simply tell them how proud you are of their accomplishment. Remember details about people’s lives and check in during both good times and challenging ones. The goal isn’t to keep score but to become someone others think of when opportunities arise—not because you’ve pressured them, but because you’ve consistently added value to their lives.
If you want to put this into practice, try this simple exercise: Before your next professional interaction, write down three ways you might be able to help that person or organization. Go into the conversation focused on giving rather than getting, and notice how it changes both the interaction and your own confidence.
When you lead with generosity, you don’t just build a contact list—you create a community of people who genuinely want to see you succeed. These relationships become sources of opportunity, wisdom, and support that extend far beyond any transaction.
Transform your approach to professional relationships by asking “How can I help?” instead of “What’s in it for me?” Think of Tom in that ballroom—his authentic curiosity and genuine care created connections that felt more like friendships than transactions. Because in the end, the people who give the most don’t just build networks—they build legacies of trust and opportunity.


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