[English]
I'm in Barcelona, Spain. It's 2004.
I'm a newly minted Nebraska Wesleyan
grad
[Applause]
with a degree in business and Spanish,
sweating.
But I'm sweating in my first real suit
as I nervously stare at a room of
managers at the Ritz Carlton Hotel
Company. I'm sweating because I'm now
expected to translate an eight-hour
workshop from Spanish into English.
Because, you see, I'd sold myself as
fluent to this company in Spanish.
And I was technically
fluent enough to ace those classroom
exams,
but not nearly fluent enough to carry
the weight of a workshop in front of
seasoned execs at the Ritz. In that
moment, I was a deer in headlights,
overconfident, out of my league, and
very aware of it. Those first couple of
weeks at the Ritz were rough. I tried to
fake my way through, pretending,
bluffing, nodding along. My stomach hurt
and I wanted to quit. My next trip was
to Santiago de Chile, and it was more of
the same. I couldn't sleep. And sometime
during that trip, something snapped. For
my physical and mental well-being, I
started to drop the act. I started to
ask for help. I said, "I'm not sure.
Could you explain that again, please?
And the incredible thing was people
leaned in. They slowed down. They taught
me. They even trusted me more.
Pretending
it's like a bad translation.
It never lands right.
But honesty rings true.
Over those next few years, I got to
travel the world for work. Dubai, Osaka,
Bogotaa, Cleveland.
And I showed up differently than I did
in Barcelona. I came with questions
instead of a performance. I stopped
trying to be the smartest person in the
room and became a sponge instead. And
through that time, I learned something
that changed my life. Curiosity is a
superpower.
Curiosity opens doors. bravado never
could.
But here's the thing. The pressure to
perform and pretend like you know what's
going on isn't unique to 21-year-old me
in that Barcelona boardroom.
I still struggle with this at times. I
mean, we're taught this, right? Ben even
talked about it earlier tonight. Fake it
till you make it. And sometimes that is
good advice. Sometimes you need to
project confidence when you're nervous.
But somewhere along the way, many of us
stopped faking confidence and we started
faking competence.
We nod along in meetings, even if we're
lost. We bluff an answer so it doesn't
look like we didn't prepare.
And we pretend to know what's going on
so nobody questions why we're in the
room. This isn't just a personal habit.
It's a cultural one. It's a habit that
is quietly killing trust and our
relationships.
Our collective inability to stay curious
and admit I don't know is hurting us
more than we think. So why do we do
this? Well, research says that belonging
is more important to us than almost
anything. We want to be part of the in
crowd. We want to be seen as capable and
credible and smart. So, we pretend in
order to protect our image and our ego.
But here's the irony.
Saying, "I don't know. Let me find out."
might ding your perceived competence a
bit. But saying, "I do know," and
getting found out,
that's a strike against your character
and your credibility. That is much
harder to come back from.
Wharton School professor Adam Grant
reminds us that saying I don't know
isn't an admission of ignorance. It's an
expression of intellectual humility.
And here's the opportunity. Saying I
don't know often invites connection. It
turns a one-sided conversation into a
two-way dialogue. It creates space for
the other person to teach, to share, to
step in. When I say I don't know, I
build trust more than lose it. And that
trust, connection, and curiosity has
helped me build what I do today. I spend
most of my time working with executives
and teams, helping their organizations
around the world navigate
transformation.
Whether we're starting innovation labs
or launching strategic initiatives or
designing the workforce of the future,
there's a common refrain I hear over and
over.
I wish my team was more curious. I wish
we learned faster and were more
adaptable. I wish I wasn't so addicted
to being right. That last one came from
a CEO.
You see, even the most self-aware
leaders admit it. There's a deep pull to
defend, to be certain, to hold on to
being right.
But in a world that changes this fast,
curiosity is more valuable than
certainty.
And intellectual humility is not a soft
skill. It's a competitive advantage. In
fact, one of the first things that
companies ask me to do is help them
unwind this very habit, this reflex to
fake knowing or being right. And here's
what I tell them. Be confident, not
counterfeit.
It's okay to project calm when you're
nervous. It's okay to borrow confidence
so you can stand tall in a room. That is
professionalism.
But you can hurt yourself and others
when you fake expertise. It can be
problematic to pretend that you're
certain when you're not.
Confidence is a gift to others.
Counterfeit certainty is a trap.
So how do we break this habit? Well, the
first thing is to catch yourself in that
moment of hesitation, that fear of
saying, "I don't know." And when you do,
here are three things you can say
instead. These aren't just words. These
are tools. They turn hesitation into
action. Number one,
I don't know. Can you help me find out?
Number two, I'm not sure. Why do you
ask? And number three, that feels like
an important question.
Do you mind if I take some time to
collect my thoughts and give it the
answer it deserves?
Every one of these moves a conversation
forward and none of them require
bluffing. Let's try this for a moment.
Think about a situation where you felt
like you were supposed to have all the
answers. Maybe it was last week, maybe
even today. Now, imagine saying this
instead.
I don't know yet.
What would that do? What would it
change? Would it create space for
someone else to speak?
Would it lead to a better decision?
Would it make your day less stressful?
It's been over 20 years since those
weeks I spent in Barcelona.
Years later, I had the opportunity to
ask that company if they knew I was in
over my head. They laughed
and said, "Of course,
we didn't hire you for who you were.
We hired you for who you would become."
What a gift, right?
They weren't looking for a polished
expert. They were investing in
potential.
That single sentence has shaped how I
show up today. I get to show up and help
people see that not knowing isn't
failure. It's the starting line for
addressing big problems.
So, here's my dare to you all. Over the
next week, find one time each day when
you're afraid to admit you don't know
and say these four words instead. I
don't know yet.
If you're a leader, model it out loud.
If you're on a team, invite it from
others. If you hold power, make it a
safe space to use those four words. I
don't know yet.
Real excellence isn't about being
certain.
Real excellence is about learning faster
than the problem evolves.
I've made plenty of mistakes in my life,
but I've also learned faster, made
better decisions, and built better
relationships
by being honest about what I don't know,
even when it's scary.
Certainty is comfortable,
but curiosity is powerful.
May curiosity and love crack your ego
and split your heart wide open until
everything and everyone fits. Thank you.