“I don’t know.”

When were you last willing to say that in front of your team? How does it make you feel to even consider saying that?

For most leaders, saying, “I don’t know,” is terrifying. We’re led to believe that great leaders always have the answer. Admitting uncertainty feels dangerous. And danger puts us into a threat response.

Our impulse to always know, or to always be right, is often driven by the inner stories we tell ourselves:

• “If I don’t have the answer, the board will replace me with someone who does.”
• “Being wrong means I’m stupid and incompetent.”
• “My value as a leader depends on certainty and decisiveness.”
• “I need to be more knowledgeable than my team; otherwise, why am I the boss?”

When we slow down, reflect, and bring these stories into consciousness, they often crumble. When I spotlight these beliefs in my coaching, clients agree that leaders can and should admit when they don’t have the answer or are wrong. In fact, most of my clients would argue it’s one of the hallmarks of outstanding leadership. When we resist not knowing, we often leap to conclusions, make decisions without all of the information, or simply guess. Of course, that might make it even more likely that we’re wrong, the very thing our subconscious is trying to avoid. Needing to be right comes at the expense of curiosity.

That’s all fine and good, but more than 90% of the time, 90% of us are on autopilot. These stories are silent background processes in our minds, unconsciously guiding our behavior. Believing these stories is a protective measure. Our egos insist on knowing the answer and being right as a survival mechanism. And our bodies react to that threat to our ego the same way they respond to a threat to our physical safety.

So, how can we shift our relationship with not knowing? The first step, as always, is awareness:

Notice when you feel pressure to have the answer. Become more aware of the emotions and body sensations that accompany that pressure. Is it fear? Anger? Something else? Do you feel a tightening in your chest? An elevated heart rate?

Only then are we able to take the opportunity to explore the underlying stories:

Name the story. Pause and ask yourself, “What story am I telling myself right now?” For example, “When a leader says ‘I don’t know,’ it means they are incompetent.”

If you’re struggling to find the story, take a moment to write down all of the facts and then all the stories you have about the facts. Facts are unarguable; they are what a camera would record. Imagine 60 Minutes was following you around. If you watched the tape, what would you see and hear?

• Fact: “The board member looked at me and said, ‘Ken, what’s the answer here?”
• Story: “The board member is testing to see if I know what I’m doing. The board member will want me fired if I don’t know the answer.”

Explore the opposite of your story. Turn around your story and look for a glimmer of evidence that it is as true or even more true than your story. Say it out loud. Move your body to shake yourself out of your original belief.

• “When a leader says ‘I don’t know,’ it means they are competent.” Can you find some evidence of the truth behind this statement? Try to find at least three specific examples.
• “When a leader won’t say ‘I don’t know,’ it means they are incompetent.” What about this turnaround?

Listen for the wisdom that comes from not knowing. Ask yourself, what is here for my learning if I don’t have the answer right now? Listen to your head, heart, and gut. Perhaps there are questions you still need answers to. Data that needs to be reviewed. Your heart is telling you to take more time and make a more careful decision. Or your intuition is alerting you to something being off about the whole thing.

When we’re willing to find the truth in the opposite of our story, our grip on it tends to soften. The next time, we might be more conscious and come at it from a different perspective.

Leadership isn’t about always having the answer and always being right. It’s about being present, deeply curious, and authentic. That can and must require the courage to say, “I don’t know.”