The Right Way To Be Wrong

A couple weeks ago I wrote to you about the value of trying stuff — of being willing to be wrong as you pursue new endeavours.

To recap: Part of thought leadership is being willing to be wrong. That’s because in order to truly lead and make things better in the world, we need to broach uncertain territory. So, with your pursuits this year, you might be wrong sometimes. And that’s a good thing.

That said, leadership also involves responsibility and accountability. Words matter. Intention, thoughtfulness, and conscientiousness are hallmarks of effective leadership, and storytelling.

So, what’s the “right” way to be wrong, when it comes to storytelling?

Here are a few practical ways you can think about this when writing, publishing, and communicating.

Assert your idea.

Here, I’m borrowing from Seth Godin who argues in favour of making an assertion. (Seth explains the concept in this interview.)

Ideas are great and insight is nice, but what are we really committing to? What declarative statement are we willing to make publicly? What are we willing to try and test?

When we make an assertion, we stop letting our ideas mingle around in our mind, and commit to something we believe to be true. When we assert, we bring our ideas forward. State them. Test them. And, if needed, change them.

The next time you’re engaging in some kind of thought leadership, ask yourself: what am I asserting to be true?

Then, write from that space. Don’t hide or shy away. Make your assertion clear.

Make it disputable.

In Priya Parker’s excellent book The Art of Gathering, she asserts (see what I did there?) that gatherings should have a clearly defined purpose. But that’s not all. She argues that the purpose should be disputable.

Essentially, her point is that if the event’s purpose is so generic and typical that it’s indisputable, it’s unlikely to offer anything new. It won’t help you with the hard work of creating a meaningful gathering. There’s not much risk, but also not much of value.

This concept applies well to storytelling and thought leadership. Stating only obvious, entirely agreeable truths might feel safer, but it’s unlikely to take us to new and interesting places. Disputability is a clue that you might have something worth asserting.

When developing your ideas, ask yourself: What might be disputable about this? What counter-arguments could other people make? Why might they be right?

Then, go ahead and make your assertion, knowing that another point of view could be possible. (You might even find that your assertion is strengthened by considering opposing points of view and anticipating them in advance.)

Share your evolution.

What if you write or say something that you later change your mind about?

Bingo — that’s another story idea.

Take my client Steve Mesler. Steve had a successful Tedx talk that led to tons of corporate speaking gigs… but he later decided the very approach he espoused in that talk was doing more harm than good. He pivoted his approach, and his communications. Now he uses that experience to help others. (Here’s an example.)

Here’s another example. My client John Berardi wrote for years about the physiology of nutrition. But in this recent article we wrote together, he challenges the very paradigm he helped create. This mea culpa doesn’t detract from the other things he’s written; it’s an evolution of his leadership.

This is what it means to be wrong the “right” way.

And here’s a final secret: Even the most confident people get nervous about this stuff.

In my work with clients I often find it can take some nudging to get to the thing they really want to say — the disputable assertion—because, to put it frankly, we are scared.

Scared of being wrong, being disliked, not being good enough, of making mistakes.

Unfortunately, the people who are thoughtful enough to be concerned about such things are the very ones who should speak up and share their assertions.

I want you to be thoughtful and conscious of your impact on others. I’m not arguing for an attitude of “well, that’s my opinion and I don’t care what anyone thinks; I censor myself for no one.”

What I am arguing for is the opposite. It’s an approach that says: “Here's an assertion. Here’s what I see that others might not see. This is my unique take on things — the stake I’m going to claim. Let’s discuss and find out if I’m right or wrong.”

This can take some ego strength but it can be improved by practice. If you’re willing to be wrong, and grow in the process, your assertions get stronger, more powerful, and more transformative. You become a better leader.

You become known for what you want to be known for.

And, bonus, the process is more enriching. You grow, evolve your beliefs, and have more fun while you’re at it.

It’s one of the most rewarding things to witness in my work.

So, what do you think? Have you changed your mind about anything recently? Comment and let me know.