Wise men speak because they have something to say – fools because they have to say something.
– Plato
Had my dad over to the house today to work on some of the pre-sale cleanup and maintenance I’ve been doing. He’s a skilled handyman and could show me how to do just about everything I wanted to get done. Simple stuff, but things I would’ve had to spend time researching and reading about to do myself. He’s also very intelligent, a senior aerospace engineer at the company he works for with many patents to his name. He knows a lot and he gets a lot done.
As far back as I can remember, he’s had a habit of thinking out loud. He’ll talk through every process as he goes, explaining what he’s doing and asking rhetorical questions that he’ll answer a moment later. He’ll describe half a dozen options for solving a problem before proceeding with the one that’s obviously best. He’ll go into detail about why an option isn’t right. When asked a question, he’ll answer – but he will also explain the other possible answers, why he didn’t choose them, and the circumstances under which they might have been right. He’ll describe technical details of the decision – things that I don’t know enough to understand, let alone care about.
In short, he brings me along for the entire mental process he goes through to make what is almost always, ultimately, the right decision.
Listening to him, I realized I do that sometimes – in my writing occasionally and especially at work. I think in my writing it can be okay – I’m trying to convey a feeling and motivate or entertain just as much as I’m trying to convey information. At work it’s basically unacceptable. If my boss asks “How is problem X going to be solved” or “When will feature Y be complete” or “How confident in decision Z are you”, he’s asking because he doesn’t want to understand for himself. X, Y and Z are my jobs. He needs a high level piece of information about them to do his job, but if I give him all the details I used to reach my conclusion I’ve basically forced him to do my job as well – I’ve loaded him up with all the data I used instead of just the conclusion (which is probably all he cares about).
(There are times when a wide-ranging discussion, rambling, and spitballing are appropriate. I’m not talking about those times).
When a decision is your responsibility, just make it. Ask questions if you need to, but otherwise take charge and provide only the answer that was requested.
This will save your peers time – they can get the benefit of your thinking without being dragged through the process with you. It will teach them to trust your decision-making, assuming your conclusions are good (explaining how you got to them won’t save you if they aren’t). Most importantly it will force you to double check your conclusions – are you confident enough to say “Z is correct” instead of “I think Z is correct assuming A B C and 1 2 3?”
If you’re not, do you think hedging makes you look any smarter?