I learned long ago as that the quickest way to gain trust with a customer is to say, “I don’t know.” When I tried to give a BS answer or to look like something I was not, the only person I’d fool would be me. Most people can see through that act immediately. The rest catch on quickly.
For me, the urge to always have the answer comes from a desire to please, to be liked, and to be respected. It’s ironic that showing my vulnerability, lack of knowledge, or lack of skills or understanding is frequently the thing that gains respect.
It boils down to vulnerability. In fact, I don’t think I’ve had a single personal or professional growth spurt without first leaning into that uncomfortable spot of vulnerability. Our egos are so protective. They build a shell around us, trying to protect us. But if that shell gets too strong, we can never grow beyond it. The very thing that we set up to protect ourselves is the thing that limits us. Rob Fitzpatrick in The Mom Test talks about how most people want to help if given the opportunity. I think this holds true here as well as long as we open ourselves up to it.
I just got back from a scuba diving expedition to a very remote location. The cabin had no electricity or running water other than what they made. In fact, it was a 2.5 hour boat ride to the nearest town. The water was a chilly 47F (8C), and the visibility in the shallows was less than 10ft (3m). There were a handful of us, most either professional or commercial divers. We were lead by a former special forces operator turned successful videographer.
With very few exceptions, I was one of the least experienced divers there. We did have two newer divers. One with under 100 dives and the other was a divemaster in training. The first was very clear about their limitations, what they were comfortable with, and what they were working on. It was awesome to see them improve over the few days we were diving. The other clearly had some physical and technical challenges but was always the hero of their own story. I saw no improvements. In fact, I saw times where they jeopardized not only their safety but that of the others on the trip.
You still have to do the work
I’m not saying that being vulnerable replaces doing the work. Doing the work to learn, to practice, to turn knowledge into practical understanding and wisdom are table stakes. Cal Newport occasionally reflects on his time as an MIT post-doc in his podcast, Deep Questions. He recently shared the thing he saw that set the true geniuses apart (MIT prof as a teenager, McArthur genius grant winner, etc.). It was that they were always looking confused and asking questions. These people did the work, but they also weren’t afraid to be “that person.”
This has been a constant struggle for me. I’m always fighting the balance between being the person who has the answer and the person who wants to have the answer. There is great value in being honest to myself and others. I guess this is my public declaration. I will continue to do the work and own what I know and what I don’t know.
Photo credits: Me. This was the lodge and boat we were diving from during the trip I mentioned in this post.