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Strategy

The Accidental CXO

March 30, 2026Aarohi Sen

As of mid-March 2026, transit through the Strait of Hormuz is not a comfortable assumption. The Iran-US confrontation has turned closure scenarios into the kind of thing discussed in Monday morning meetings, not just in policy journals. Twenty million barrels per day, offline or rerouted, with the ships that departed before any blockade still a month from reaching port.1

This sits on top of what was already happening. Tariff policy has been volatile since April 2025, shifting weekly and sometimes daily.2 Thirty percent of global capacity for key petrochemicals and fertilizers is concentrated in the Persian Gulf region, which means food prices later this year hang on the same strait as the oil.3 US manufacturing spent $192 billion on energy in 2022; in Texas, wholesale electricity can spike from $50 to $5,000 per megawatt-hour in minutes.4 Each of these pressures would be manageable in isolation. But they are not arriving in isolation.

None of this is a crisis in the traditional sense. Crises end. What companies are dealing with is a permanent operating environment that happens to include several simultaneous emergencies.

The Room That Never Closed

In April 2025, shortly after the latest round of tariff announcements, KPMG’s US supply chain leader Mary Rollman told Fortune something that deserves more attention than it received:

“Almost every client I talk to has a war room. They get a team spun up, and the members have completely dropped their day job. Their job now is to watch the news and see what comes out next and quickly be able to present to leadership.”5

Those rooms were supposed to be temporary. But they persist.

By March 2026, Fortune was reporting that the same war rooms, originally convened for tariff response, had absorbed the Iran crisis, the Hormuz scenarios, the energy repricing, and whatever else arrived that morning.6 McKinsey formalized the pattern as a “geopolitical nerve center,” with cross-functional teams operating across three time horizons: this-week tactical, next-quarter strategic, and the elusive “next normal.”7 The World Economic Forum, working with BCG and IMD, identified four organizational archetypes for how companies structure geopolitical response: watchtower, influence network, command cell, and nerve centre. Nissan’s version runs 30 to 40 members meeting bimonthly, reporting directly to the CEO and CFO.8

Half the companies in the WEF survey self-identified with two archetypes simultaneously.8 Even the organizational form of the response is improvised.

The Accidental CXO

Someone runs this room.

That person probably doesn’t have a job title that describes what they actually do. There is no professional body for Permanent War Room leadership. No career path, no certification. Nobody planned for this role to exist.

That is beginning to change, unevenly. Job boards in March 2026 show permanent positions built to staff these rooms: Crisis Management Specialists commanding $220,000–$275,000 and Business Resilience Managers whose mandate is framed as “active resilience” rather than disaster recovery.12 Look at the titles. What was “Manager, Emergency Response” in 2024 has become “Head of Geoeconomic Resilience” or “VP of Global Risk Supercycle Management.” Executives with geopolitical risk credentials now command an 18–22% salary premium over traditional operations roles.13

But look at what the role commands. Direct access to the board. Authority to redirect resources across business functions, to override a regional sales target or a manufacturing schedule because of a geopolitical development that happened at 3 a.m. in a different time zone. If you wrote a job description based on observed behavior rather than organizational intent, you would be describing a C-suite role.

The person might be a VP of Supply Chain who happened to be good under pressure. A chief of staff who was supposed to coordinate, not command. Whatever their origin, they now sit in meetings alongside the CFO and COO. They command a budget that wasn’t in the fiscal year plan. Functional heads route decisions through them. In some companies, they have become the single most connected node in the organization, with more cross-functional visibility than anyone on the actual executive committee.

The war room created a C-level role that nobody designed and nobody named. This matters for reasons beyond org-chart neatness. The authority this person exercises, and the structure they sit inside, creates organizational problems that are themselves entirely unmonitored.

Parallel Power Structures

Consider what happens when the war room issues a recommendation. The team has identified significant supply chain exposure in a region where tariff policy is expected to shift within weeks. The recommendation: halt shipments to that market, stockpile domestically, wait.

This collides with the sales function, which has a quarterly target. It collides with manufacturing and procurement, which have committed production schedules and contractual obligations carrying penalties. These functions are measured on scorecards that were written before the war room existed. Nobody updated those scorecards when the room was established.

The war room optimizes for resilience. Every other function in the building optimizes for something different: revenue, utilization, cash flow, cost per unit. Each is rational within its own frame. The problem is that nobody reconciled those frames when the war room started issuing directives that cut across all of them.

I have been calling this gap Priority Signal Divergence: the measurable distance between what each function is individually optimized to achieve and what the organization collectively needs to do.9 It is not abstract. You can see it in where executives actually spend their time. Calendars don’t lie. If the head of manufacturing spends 40% of their week in war room briefings, their manufacturing priorities are getting 60% of their attention, regardless of what the annual plan says. Budget velocity tells the same story. When the war room can reallocate $2 million in a phone call but a sales territory redesign takes a quarter of internal review, the actual priority architecture is visible to anyone willing to read it.

The scorecards were never reconciled. Not because anyone is incompetent, but because nobody has the mandate to reconcile them. The war room has authority over geopolitical response. It does not have authority over performance management. The two systems coexist, pulling in different directions, and the organization absorbs the friction without naming it.

Authority Without a Constitution

The war room leader has de facto authority. They do not have de jure authority.

This sounds academic until you watch it play out. When a procurement director says, “let me check with the war room,” what they’re communicating is: ‘I cannot make this decision on my own. A body that was never formally constituted has override power over my function.’

The organizational consequence is a pattern I think of as Escalation Archaeology: the tendency for decisions to be made, communicated, and then quietly reopened at a higher level because nobody is certain which authority is final.10 A sourcing decision gets made by procurement. The war room reviews it, recommends a change. Procurement escalates to their VP. The VP consults the COO. The COO asks the war room leader whether this was already discussed. The original decision is now several levels above where it needed to be, taking longer than it should, and the organization has absorbed a corrosive lesson: no decision is truly final.

Deloitte’s 2026 Human Capital Trends report puts a number to this structural tension. Sixty-six percent of C-suite leaders agree their organizations need to push beyond traditional functional boundaries. Seven percent say they are making meaningful progress.11 That 59-point gap is not a failure of ambition. It is what happens when you build a new power structure inside an organization designed around a different one and never update the constitutional documents.

The Cost Nobody Business-Cased

A thought experiment. A company establishes a permanent team of 30 to 40 people, some full-time, others pulled from existing roles, with direct C-suite reporting, dedicated analytical tools, and the authority to commission external intelligence. The annual fully loaded cost is somewhere between $5 million and $10 million, depending on seniority mix and tooling.

How much internal review would that investment require if it were a marketing program? An R&D initiative?

The answer, at most companies, is weeks. Business cases would be written. NPV calculations run. The CFO would want a projection.

The war room budget was approved in hours, under emergency conditions, and has been renewed by inertia ever since. That speed differential is the data in itself. I describe it as Decision Latency Variance: the gap between how fast an organization moves when it decides something genuinely matters and how fast it moves for everything else.

When crisis spending bypasses every financial control that normal spending must satisfy, the organization is telling you, through revealed preference rather than stated strategy, what its actual priorities are. The war room is now a permanent line item competing for the same capital pool as every other initiative. But it arrived in the budget through a door that nothing else is allowed to use, and nobody has retrofitted the business case that was never written.

This does not mean the war room is a bad investment. It might be the single most valuable commitment the company makes. But the total absence of the evaluation discipline that applies to every other comparable expenditure is its own kind of organizational signal.

There Is No Next Normal

McKinsey’s nerve center model is organized around three horizons. The third is called “The Next Normal,” the point at which the organization has adapted to changed conditions and begins operating from a new baseline.7

The permanence of the war room is evidence that Horizon 3 is not arriving. If executives believed stability was coming, that tariff policy would settle and the Gulf would return to predictable navigation, they would start planning to wind the room down. That planning is not happening. The rooms are growing. They absorb new mandates. They are hiring permanent headcount at premium salaries, not rotating people through on temporary assignment.

Companies are not behaving as though they expect a return to anything resembling normal. They are behaving as though continuous disruption is the operating system, and the war room is the only part of the organization built for it.

This raises a question I have not seen addressed in the growing body of war room analysis: if the room is permanent, what is it? It is not a task force, because task forces disband. It is not a function, because functions come with career paths and professional accountability. Whatever this is, the organization has no vocabulary for it. And you cannot budget or build governance for something the org chart doesn’t acknowledge. If this room is now the company’s most important coordinating mechanism, that absence of formal recognition is not a trivial omission.

Here is what I notice. The geopolitical risks that the war room monitors are measured with real sophistication. Oil price scenarios, tariff impact models, supply chain heat maps, currency exposure calculations. The analytical infrastructure is genuinely impressive.

The organizational risks that the war room creates have no measurement at all. Decision speed degradation, authority confusion, unreconciled priority systems, capital allocated without evaluation. Nobody is monitoring the monitor.

And somewhere in each of these companies, there is a person running the room who deserves better than accidental authority. The work they do is real. The organizational architecture around them should be too. That means a title on the org chart, a seat in the talent review, a budget that went through the same process as every other line item, and scorecards that acknowledge the war room’s directives instead of pretending they don’t exist.

The companies that figure this out first won’t just have better war rooms. They’ll have answered a question that most of their competitors haven’t even thought to ask: what do we owe the function we accidentally built?


Endnotes

  1. Rory Johnston, interviewed by Thomas Stackpole, “The Oil Shock Is Here. And We’re Just Beginning to Feel It,” Harvard Business Review, March 19, 2026. See also BCG, “The Hormuz Strait: Which Sectors and Regions Are Impacted Most?” March 2026.
  2. Fortune, “The Paralysis of Trade War: ‘Almost Every Client I Talk to Has a War Room,’” April 15, 2025.
  3. BCG, “The Hormuz Strait: Which Sectors and Regions Are Impacted Most?” March 2026. Ten to thirty percent of global capacity for key chemicals, including polyethylene, methanol, and fertilizer precursors, is concentrated in the Gulf region.
  4. Penelope Crossley, Danielle Kent, Glenn Platt, and Lee White, “How Leaders Can Get Strategic About Energy Costs,” Harvard Business Review, March 27, 2026.
  5. Mary Rollman, US Supply Chain Leader, KPMG LLP, quoted in Fortune, “The Paralysis of Trade War,” April 15, 2025.
  6. Fortune, “For CEOs, It’s Time for a Wartime Mindset,” March 20, 2026.
  7. McKinsey & Company, “Navigating Tariffs with a Geopolitical Nerve Center,” 2025.
  8. World Economic Forum, BCG, and IMD, “Building Geopolitical Muscle,” January 2026. The Nissan case study and the 50% archetype-blending figure are from this report.
  9. The Priority Signal Divergence framework extends work first published in Aarohi Sen, Michael Sutcliff, and Raghav Narsalay, “The Two Big Reasons That Digital Transformations Fail,” Harvard Business Review, October 2019.
  10. See also Aarohi Sen, “Everyone Agreed. Nobody Moved.” LinkedIn, February 2026.
  11. Deloitte, “2026 Global Human Capital Trends,” 2026.
  12. Based on active job postings reviewed March 2026, including permanent roles at Anthropic, CrowdStrike, Millennium Management, and WTW (Willis Towers Watson).
  13. JRG Partners, Executive Compensation Benchmarks, March 2026. Eighty-five percent of executive search firms now list geopolitical risk mitigation as a core competency for senior hires.

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