When Succession was released back in 2018, it took over the internet and pop culture in general.
Everyone was quoting Logan Roy or arguing about who’s the “smartest” Roy. The show has got a mix of sharp satire and volatile family dynamics, all wrapped up in the chaos that is the Roy family’s media empire, Waystar Royco. Succession isn’t just about who gets to be the boss; it’s a masterclass in how power, loyalty, and brains work when the stakes are ludicrously high.
For most of the show, the big question is who’s going to ultimately inherit the crown from the inscrutable, tyrannical Logan Roy? The obvious bets are Kendall (perpetual meltdown), Shiv (smarter-than-thou), Roman (walking disaster), or, if you’re feeling charitable, Connor (bless his heart). But then the finale hits, and out of nowhere, it’s Tom Wambsgans who ends up on top. The guy everybody thought was just along for the ride. The in-law. The human golden retriever. Suddenly, he is the CEO.
Tom's win makes you rethink what “smart” even means in Succession’s universe. At first, Tom is the punchline. He’s the guy everyone dunks on. But he has been playing the long game. He adapts. He takes the hits. And when it counts, he is the last man standing. So was Tom the smartest all along? What’s his secret? And what does that even say about how power works in rich-people land?
You can’t get what Tom is about unless you look at the world outside the show, too. Succession is not just about family drama; it’s got layers. Organizational theory buffs, business columnists, and psychologists all have weighed in. There are peer-reviewed articles about family firms, deep dives from media insiders, and, of course, TikTok explainers and X memes breaking down every Tom moment.
So, when you see a title like this one, it’s not clickbait, it’s a whole thesis about what the show is telling us. In Succession, it’s not always the loudest or the most entitled who win. It’s the person who adapts, who reads the room, who lets people underestimate them until they’re the one holding all the cards.
Tom’s rise isn’t just about outsmarting the Roys; it’s about understanding that sometimes the best move is to let people think you’re harmless.
Anyway, what follows is a breakdown of those seven moments of Tom’s greatest hits. By the end, Tom is not just some accidental CEO; he’s the dark horse genius, the guy who proves that sometimes being overlooked is your deadliest weapon.
In TV and life, it’s not always the obvious winners who end up running the show. Sometimes it’s the guy you least expect, quietly outfoxing everyone while they’re too busy looking elsewhere.
Succession: 7 moments that proved Tom Wambsgans was the smartest Roy
1) Tom’s survival mode: Playing the game like a pro

So Tom shows up in Succession, and the guy is not a Roy. He’s desperate to impress Logan, but he’s also scared witless of him. The Roy kids are busy throwing tantrums or acting entitled. Tom treats the whole Roy universe like he’s in Jurassic Park, not swaggering in like he owns the place.
You really see it when the cruise scandal explodes. Tom doesn’t freak out, doesn’t try to dump the mess on someone else. He just sucks it up, covers Logan’s tracks, and handles the whole disaster with zero backup. As Kendall so lovingly says, Tom is straight-up “eating sh*t.”
And Tom is even willing to do time if that’s what it takes. Logan eats that kind of stuff up. Tom is not dumb about it; he knows that if he takes one for the team, he looks both disposable and loyal at the same time. Critics love to point out how Tom’s “moral flexibility” and sharp instincts make him way better suited for survival than the Roy kids, who are too busy melting down over issues to think straight.
2) Playing possum: Tom’s humble hustle

While the Roy siblings are busy backstabbing each other and peacocking around in Succession, Tom is over here perfecting the art of flying under the radar. One reviewer called him a snake in the grass, just waiting for his shot. The guy will literally take all kinds of crap: Shiv freezing him out, the family roasting him, and even eating off Logan’s plate.
But all that humiliation is a smokescreen. Tom clocks every power move in the room, keeps his head down, and never lets himself look like a threat until it’s go time.
A lot of people, even after the finale, totally missed the point. They thought Tom was just a doormat, a “pain sponge” soaking up abuse. But by playing it small, he dodges the spotlight and the firing squad, while Kendall and Roman keep tripping over their own egos. In a shark tank like this, sometimes the one who says nothing is the only one left standing.
3) The big betrayal: Tom goes full savage

Now, this is where Tom drops the mask. In Succession Season 3, Shiv ropes him into her little coup to block Logan’s deal. Tom takes one look at that plan and, instead of hitching his wagon to the Roy clown car, he rats them out to Logan.
The Roys keep getting wrecked by their own grudges and family drama. Tom keeps his feelings in a box, stashes the box in a vault, and does what needs to be done. There are actual studies saying outsiders with insider info usually win these power games, because they can see the whole board without getting all weepy about it.
And social media lost it. X and TikTok were flooded with memes calling Tom the “unassisted triple play guy”—a fan theory about his last name referencing some old baseball legend, Bill Wambsganss. Turns out that was just fan fiction, but the story stuck. Tom single-handedly wipes out all three Roy siblings, and that’s the kind of legend Succession was built for.
4) Emotional intelligence: Managing Greg and building alliances

Tom messing with Greg is peak Succession. He’s not just bullying the world’s tallest puppy for kicks; he’s playing chess while everyone else is eating the pieces. Sure, sometimes Tom treats Greg like his personal punching bag, but he’s also weirdly nurturing, like a toxic big brother who teaches you how to survive by making you eat dirt first.
Unlike the Roys, who burn bridges, Tom knows how to build alliances that actually last. He gets that Greg is useful, sometimes as a confidant, sometimes as a pain sponge. Even when Tom is forced to humiliate Greg, he never actually cuts him loose. It’s like Tom infects Greg with the cruise scandal “virus,” but then hands him a bottle of hand sanitizer.
Reddit is all over this, especially r/SuccessionTV, where people love dissecting how Tom keeps Greg just close enough to be valuable but not dangerous.
That’s emotional intelligence in action: knowing who to trust, who to chuck under the bus, and who to keep just within arm’s reach, even if you have to occasionally slap them around (figuratively).
5) Navigating the GoJo deal: The art of playing both sides

The Succession turns into the GoJo Hunger Games by the end, but Tom is not out here making grand speeches or torching every relationship in reach. He’s quietly hedging his bets, keeping lines open with both Logan’s crew and the GoJos.
Even when he’s supposedly on the chopping block (Matsson’s “kill list” episode), Tom doesn’t spiral. He just shrugs, recalibrates, and next thing you know, he’s the last man standing—Matsson’s handpicked CEO.
TikTok and YouTube can’t get enough of Tom’s “trophy husband” arc. Critics say it’s proof that Tom gets what the Roy kids never do: sometimes you have to eat a little dirt, let them mock you, and still grab the crown when everyone else is fighting over scraps.
6) Staying power: When boring wins the race

People love to hype up “visionary leaders,” but most of the time, it’s the reliable folks who keep the lights on. Tom is the poster child for this. The guy just keeps his head down, gets wrecked by the Roys (and everyone else at ATN), but somehow keeps trucking along. Even when the company is falling apart or Congress is breathing down his neck, he doesn’t care about glory. He’s not out here for a big cathartic moment. He just shows up and does the job.
Fans on Reddit and all those meme-loving commentators catch this stuff. Tom is unflappable. Someone called him “a good steward of the business,” and that’s the vibe. By the end of Succession, Matsson and the other puppet masters don’t want a superstar; they want someone who survives the storm.
7) Outsider energy: Turning “lame” into legendary

Tom’s secret weapon is that he knows he’s not one of them. Logan was a scrappy rags-to-riches story, but Tom isn’t even pretending to be in that league. He’s just... Tom. As i-D magazine said, the guy made himself without any fancy bloodline, tragic Roy-family drama, just pure, unglamorous self-invention.
In a family obsessed with legacy and backstabbing, that’s a superpower. Nobody is watching him too closely, so he gets to move in the shadows, ducking all the drama that sinks the others.
He never really becomes a Roy; he’s their doormat, their scapegoat, and eventually, their replacement. That’s the move. He’s so self-aware it hurts, willing to eat crap and lose face if it means staying in the game. That takes brains, not just ego.
Fans and critics keep calling out his “cringe appeal,” like he absorbs all the hits and just keeps going. His “strategic self-effacement” is the art of playing dumb until you win.