At its core, strategy is not just a set of plans or analyses—it is a narrative about the future. It tells a story about how we will win, or at least how we will survive and thrive. As a theory of victory, strategy constructs a causal arc: from where we are now, through a sequence of actions, to a desired future state. This arc needs to make sense, not only to its creators but to everyone expected to enact or support it. In organizations, strategy lives and breathes through the stories people tell, believe in, and act upon.

In this sense, strategy operates in the realm of intersubjectivity. It’s not a purely objective or technical exercise—it’s a social process of sense-making. People in organizations must collectively interpret their environment, make judgments about what matters, and decide how to respond. That interpretive process is narrative-driven. The strategist, then, is not just an analyst or decision-maker, but a storyteller—someone who helps a group make sense of complexity by framing it within a compelling and actionable narrative.

Recent scholarship supports this view. Barry and Elmes (1997), for instance, argue that strategy should be seen as a form of organizational storytelling. For a strategic narrative to be effective, they suggest, it must be both believable and fresh—combining credibility with originality. A story that sounds too familiar may fail to inspire, while one that is too novel may not be trusted. The sweet spot lies in crafting a narrative that honors current realities while pointing toward a different and better future.

Narratives also function as strategic glue. In organizations where decisions are distributed across teams, locations, and time horizons, it’s the shared narrative that keeps efforts aligned. A good strategic story offers more than inspiration—it provides a sense of logic and coherence. It explains why we’re doing what we’re doing, and how it all fits together. This is particularly crucial during periods of uncertainty or change, when people need a compass, not just a map.

Moreover, strategy-as-narrative enables emotional engagement. Data alone rarely moves people to act. But stories do. A strategic narrative can give meaning to sacrifice, urgency to transformation, and pride to performance. It invites individuals to see themselves as characters in a larger plot, where their actions contribute to something consequential. It turns isolated decisions into chapters of a purposeful journey.

Yet, not all stories are strategic. To qualify as strategy, a narrative must carry a logic of causality—it must explain how specific choices and actions are expected to lead to desired outcomes. In this sense, strategic narratives are more than slogans or visions. They are grounded in analysis, shaped by context, and framed with intention. They acknowledge risks, anticipate obstacles, and offer clear reasons to believe. The story must work—not just emotionally, but logically.

Importantly, strategic narratives evolve. As conditions shift, as new information emerges, as successes and failures accumulate, the story must be revised. This doesn’t mean abandoning coherence; it means updating the plot while keeping the arc intact. Effective strategists are, therefore, not only story-creators but also story-editors—able to adapt the narrative without losing the organization’s sense of direction.

In the end, strategy is more than an answer—it’s a shared explanation of how we intend to win. And because that explanation must be understood, believed, and enacted by others, it must take narrative form. Through storytelling, strategy becomes human. It becomes memorable. It becomes mobilizing. And in the ever-changing environment in which organizations operate, a powerful narrative may be the most enduring form of strategic advantage.