There is a moment many CEOs of internationally operating companies recognise, even if they rarely say it aloud. A call from a minister's office they weren't expecting. A regulation their competitors somehow saw coming. A contract that evaporated — not over price or product, but because the other side chose a company with deeper roots in the local ecosystem. That is the moment the realisation lands: the world outside the organisation is no longer background noise. It is the game itself.
For most of the last three decades, running an international business meant hiring good local teams, managing currency exposure, and adapting your product to local tastes. The political environment was a constraint you worked around, not a terrain you cultivated. That model is now obsolete.
The way global commerce works is shifting under our feet. The rules of market access — what can be sold, sourced, or built, and where — are increasingly set to serve strategic ends, not commercial ones. And whether a company can operate in a given market is now answered less in boardrooms than in government offices, standards bodies, and multilateral forums where most business leaders have no presence, no voice, and no relationships. The CEO who doesn't see may be flying blind.
Here is a simple test. When your strategy team presents the three-year plan, how much of it accounts for a serious shift in trade policy between your two largest markets? How much of your supply-chain planning assumes the political relationships governing your key corridors stay stable? If the honest answer is "not much," you are exposed.
Geopolitical risk used to be a form of insurance: identify the scenarios, price them, buy cover or accept the downside. What has changed is the frequency and speed of consequential shifts. In a single year, a mid-size European company can face new export controls on its technology, revised rules of origin that restructure its procurement, a sanctions regime that severs a key supplier, and market-access conditions that suddenly hinge on bilateral politics no amount of local adaptation can fix. Not to mention the "informal" restrictions based merely on political alignment.
The question is no longer whether geopolitics will affect your business. It is whether you will find out early enough to do something about it. There is another key question: can I turn this risk into opportunity?
The companies that navigate this well share one trait: their leaders are embedded in the external world — not just reading the Financial Times, but present in the rooms where signals appear early. Industry coalitions, policy forums, bilateral chambers, multilateral organizations corridors and working groups. They know which conversations are happening before they become announcements. That lead time is the difference between adapting and reacting.
Ambitious mid-size companies in regulated sectors — energy, biotech, agrifood, technology, climate infrastructure — carry a regulatory burden that rivals many multinationals, without the policy teams or Brussels presence to match. They are disproportionately shaped by rules they had no hand in writing and little visibility into before they arrived.
This is not a complaint about regulation. It is an observation about power. Regulation is shaped by those who show up. Industry associations, public consultations, standard-setting bodies, bilateral regulatory dialogues — these are not bureaucratic footnotes. They are the architecture of the market. The companies at those tables help build it. The ones absent read the manual after it's published.
A CEO who treats regulatory engagement as the legal team's job is outsourcing a strategic function. When the European Commission drafts the next carbon border rules, or a Southeast Asian market rewrites its data-localisation requirements, the companies in the room are not there by accident. They invested in presence, in relationships, and in the credibility that comes from being a consistent, substantive voice. For a mid-size company, even those with a government-affairs department, it requires the CEO to decide it is part of the job.
There is a kind of "networking" every senior leader has learned to dread: the conference circuit, the identical conversations, the badge scanning. This is not that.
A well-cultivated external network is one of the most valuable assets a company can hold, because it is a real-time intelligence system no market-research firm can replicate. When a peer CEO in an adjacent sector mentions their logistics provider has started pricing a key corridor differently, that is a signal. When a former regulator you've stayed close to notes a directive is being reconsidered, that is a signal. When a contact at a bilateral chamber tells you the political mood in a market you're entering has shifted, that is a signal — and you have it weeks or months before it reaches an analyst report.
Information asymmetry has always been a source of advantage. What's changed is that the information that matters most now flows through relationships, not databases.
In practice, business diplomacy is unglamorous and specific: maintaining real relationships with two or three people who understand the political landscape of each key market, before you need them; participating in — not just paying dues to — the industry bodies that engage regulators on your sector's behalf; building ties with counterpart companies in strategic markets, including ones you don't yet do business with; knowing which institutions and standards bodies write the rules of your sector, and showing up there; and treating officials, trade attachés, and development agencies as partners in your market strategy rather than obstacles.
One thing separates the largest multinationals from everyone else in external affairs: they built their relationships over decades. A company like ABB, Nestlé, or Roche doesn't scramble for access when a policy conversation opens in a market it cares about. It is already in the room. That is the product of consistent presence and the institutional trust that only accumulates over time.
For a mid-size company the gap is real — but not insurmountable, because what earns that trust is not scale. It is showing up consistently, doing what you said you would, contributing genuine expertise, and being an organisation others can count on. In many policy processes, mid-size companies with real sector knowledge and clear, credible voices are actively sought out — precisely because they aren't seen as pursuing purely self-interested agendas.
And the window is open now. In ten years, the relationships your competitors are building today will be closed networks. The time to start is before you need it — not the morning you read the announcement that changes your market.
Picture the company with no external presence at all. A market-question arises and there is no one to call. A regulatory change creates an opening and it is not positioned to benefit. A crisis hits — and in international business one eventually always does — and it responds from a standing start, without the relationships, credibility, or context to navigate it.
There is a quieter cost, too. The best people — those who operate at the intersection of business, policy, and geopolitics — want to work for organisations that take the external world seriously. Insularity compounds.
None of this means abandoning the operational priorities that built the company. It means recognising that external engagement is no longer a distraction from running the business. It is part of running it well.
The CEOs who will lead the strongest international companies of the next decade are not only operators and allocators. They understand that the world outside the organisation is a terrain to be cultivated, that relationships are a strategic asset, and that the skills of diplomacy — patience, presence, and the ability to build trust across difference — are no longer optional for anyone whose business crosses a border.
*This article is part of the Resiliency Index series, exploring how mid-size companies with international operations can build durable competitive advantage in a more complex world.*