Why is it that so many persons feel compelled to show off how much they know? Because they have been rewarded during a dozen school years for wagging their hands to provide the right answer? Because our society is individualistic and competitive such that the brightest climb higher on the success ladder? Because winning an argument is emotionally gratifying?
Certainly, there are good times to assertively advance your best ideas, to show what you know, to demonstrate your grasp of the subject at hand. However, not all times are good times. There are also good conversational opportunities to admit not knowing and to just be curious about the ideas of others - no matter hownaïve you think those ideas are.
An example from corporate America: Management has regularly trumpeted the need to "think outside of the box" and consider fresh, even quirky, ideas. To make this happen, meetings sometimes make use of outside facilitators who can create safe opportunities for participants to suggest unusual ideas (the best-known of which is "brainstorming," one of dozens of useful frameworks for innovation.) Without such conditions of
safety and creativity, the NIH ("Not Invented Here") syndrome tends to rule and eliminate contrary or unusual thinking.
In a climate that has become arrogant, where "inside the box ideas" are assumed to be the right ones and the best ones, employees quickly learn that in order to get along, they had better go along with the prevailing thinking. The American auto industry was captivated
by what sociologists call "groupthink."
The heads of the Big Three U.S. auto-makers were sure that Americans wanted big cars - even if they weren't of high quality. At the same time, and with the help of American professor W. Edwards Deming, who was not a prophet in his own country, Japanese auto-makers sought to build smaller cars of highest quality and, within a few decades, won a large U.S.market share.
In order to learn something new, we must first admit we don't already know what is to be learned. As in the Zen story where the student's cup overflows when poured by the teacher, a person who knows it all has no more mental space for new ideas. "Not knowing" must precede new learning, but often opinions and beliefs get in the way - even if they might be utter nonsense.
Those of us over forty remember how deft TV Detective Columbo was when he off-handedly asked "dumb" and disarming questions that often led to the solution of a crime. He let the suspects he asked be the "smart ones" until they revealed what he wanted to know.
Do you remember the satisfaction you got as a child
when you were listened to with deep curiosity as you shared your ideas and experience without being corrected and improved by someone older who supposedly had all the right answers. Some
of this same satisfaction is available to the employee whose boss asks, "Please tell me what you think is working best." Letting others tell us is usually very validating for them.
During conversations, there are good times to know, and there are good times not to know and just be curious. Alas, many otherwise smart people don't recognize the difference. Too often they suffer from
an occupational hazard of know-it-all - a failing some teachers, ministers, professors, lawyers, consultants and other advice-givers are prone to. I'll admit that too often in the past, I myself did not recognize the
value of "not knowing" and the beneficial results that
can come from talking to others with a mind that is merely open and curious. I wish for you that you have come to understand and appreciate this matter faster than I.
As Albert Einstein wrote, "We still do not know one thousandth of one percent of what nature has revealed to us." This truth should encourage us to have a little humility by not having to be right or appear smart.
A few days ago I was lectured by a male clerk in a store I patronize. He went on and on about Afghanistan and Pakistan. During a brief pause, I reminded him that I had spent 6 months in that part of the world, in Peshawar, had known some tribal Pashtun people, had visited their homes and gun factories. "Oh yeah," he said, continuing his lecture. He was not open to learning anything new because he had to "be right." Seeing that, when he took a brief pause, I headed for the exit.
My counsel: It's good to become comfortable saying "I don't know." Then saying "If you know, please tell me."
"To know that you do not know is the best. To pretend to know when you do not know is a disease." -Lao-tzu, ancient Chinese philosopher
Until next week,
Loren
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