The Leadership Strength of Saying, “I Don't Know.”
The Leadership Strength of Saying, “I Don't Know.”
What I learned about leadership while standing in an ICU
Some leadership lessons come from books.
Others come from classrooms, mentors, or conferences.
And sometimes they come when leadership is the last thing on your mind.
Several years ago, my mom was extremely ill and in the hospital. Like anyone who has watched someone they love battle a serious illness, my attention wasn't on leadership theory.
It was on my mom.
One day, I watched as the hospitalist gathered with the ICU team to discuss her care.
Doctors, nurses, pharmacists, and other professionals surrounded him as they reviewed her condition and discussed the treatment plan for the day.
It was obvious who was leading the conversation.
He was confident.
He was knowledgeable.
He was directing the discussion.
He was clearly in charge.
Then something happened that I have never forgotten.
As they discussed my mom's medications, a question arose about whether a particular combination could be given together.
The hospitalist could have assumed he knew the answer.
He could have relied on his experience.
He could have made the decision himself.
He didn't.
Instead, he turned to the pharmacists.
He asked.
The pharmacist explained that the combination wasn't appropriate.
And the team adjusted the plan.
I remember watching that exchange with tremendous respect.
Here was the person responsible for directing my mom's care, surrounded by highly trained professionals, openly acknowledging that someone else in the circle knew more about this question than he did.
He didn't surrender his leadership. He demonstrated it.
Leadership Doesn't Require Knowing Everything
Somewhere along the way, we developed a strange picture of leadership.
The leader is supposed to know.
The leader is supposed to decide.
The leader is supposed to have the answer.
And when leaders begin believing that themselves, something dangerous can happen.
Confidence becomes certainty.
Authority becomes control.
And expertise becomes ego.
But strong leadership isn't demonstrated by proving you're the smartest person in the room.
Sometimes it's demonstrated by knowing who the smartest person in the room is for the question being asked.
That distinction matters.
The hospitalist had authority over the care plan. The pharmacist had expertise about the medication.
Those weren't competing realities.
They were complementary strengths.
The hospitalist's responsibility wasn't diminished by the pharmacist's expertise. His leadership became stronger because he knew how to use it.
Secure Leaders Can Defer
I've thought about that moment many times since.
Why was the hospitalist able to ask?
I believe part of the answer was security.
He didn't seem threatened by someone else's expertise.
He didn't need to demonstrate that he knew everything simply because he was leading everyone.
He could remain in charge and still say, in effect:
"You know more about this than I do. What do you think?"
That takes a particular kind of confidence.
And it connects directly to something I've been studying through Leadership Poise.
Poise isn't about projecting certainty.
Poise is alignment.
It is having enough internal stability that you don't have to protect your status when someone else has the better answer.
It allows a leader to remain clear about the responsibility they carry while remaining open to the wisdom other people bring.
A poised leader can:
- Lead and listen.
- Direct and defer.
- Decide and remain curious.
- Be confident without needing to prove it.
That isn't weakness. That's leadership maturity.
The Human Side of Expertise
There was another dimension to that moment that has stayed with me.
This wasn't an academic exercise.
The person they were discussing was my mom.
Every medication represented consequences for someone I loved.
Every question mattered.
Every decision mattered.
That's easy to forget in organizations.
Behind the spreadsheet is a person.
Behind the performance metric is a person.
Behind the difficult conversation is a person.
Behind the decision is often someone who will live with its consequences.
The hospitalist's willingness to ask a question wasn't merely an example of professional collaboration.
It was an act of humility with human consequences.
That is why leadership can never become only about authority, efficiency, or expertise.
Leadership is profoundly human.
Who Do You Need to Ask?
The experience left me with a question I think every leader should consider:
Who knows something you need to know?
Maybe it's the person closest to the customer.
Maybe it's the new employee who sees something everyone else has stopped noticing.
Maybe it's the technician who understands the system better than the executive.
Maybe it's the team member who disagrees with you.
Maybe it's the person sitting quietly in the meeting waiting for someone to ask.
Leadership doesn't mean surrendering your responsibility to decide.
It means having the humility and internal security to make sure the best thinking in the room has a chance to influence that decision.
Sometimes the most important words a leader can say aren't:
"Here's what we're going to do."
They're:
"What do you think?"
I watched a hospitalist demonstrate that while caring for someone I loved.
He was clearly the leader in the room.
And one of the things that made him such a strong leader was that he didn't need to prove it.
Leadership isn't diminished when we defer to someone else's expertise.
Sometimes that's precisely when leadership is revealed.
Who on your team knows something you need to ask them about?
