A few years ago, a manager led a team of experienced engineers. All was well initially: the team performed strongly, and the client consistently gave high feedback ratings. One day, senior engineer Tom (not his real name) berated a junior colleague in a meeting, saying, “I can’t believe you’d say something so stupid.” Hearing about the outburst, the manager thought, “Several people are jealous of Tom and his position on the team. I’m not surprised to hear this. I’m sure his words are being blown out of proportion.”
A few days later, the manager heard that Tom was telling incoming freshers that he knew more about the system and the business it supported than anyone else, including the manager. When asked, Tom denied boasting. The manager thought, “I can’t assume Tom is lying. He is, after all, our star performer. My source may have misheard.”
The following week, Tom told the client in a meeting that his team would be more productive under a different leader. The client took the unprecedented step of questioning the company’s leadership practices and asked about its leadership development efforts. An investigation revealed that Tom had become hubristic and was playing a dangerous political game. He was summarily dismissed, the team’s performance suffered, and the manager was given a smaller role.
What happened here is a classic case of reasonableness getting us into trouble. We have all heard phrases such as “Let’s not overreact,” “There are good arguments on both sides,” “Why fix something that isn’t broken?”, “We need more data,” or “Let’s wait and see.” Each sounds sensible, and often it is. The danger arises when reasonableness becomes a substitute for judgement. We can become so intent on being balanced, rational and fair that we fail to recognise when a situation calls for something more decisive.
Sometimes, this reluctance to act stems from a fear of being wrong or appearing reckless. At other times, our thinking is clouded by confirmation bias, our attachment to the status quo or the discomfort of confronting evidence that challenges what we believe. We may seek more data, not because it will materially improve our decision, but because it allows us to postpone making one.
As a leader, the next time you find yourself saying, “Let’s be reasonable,” pause for a moment and ask yourself these questions:
- Do I know what really matters in this situation?
- Does my reasonable decision have any unintended consequences?
- What would be ‘unreasonable’ in this context and why am I rejecting it?
- Is fear or inertia influencing my thinking right now?
- Will waiting for more data hurt more or help more?
- Is my choice the best or just the easiest to justify?
- Is consensus really needed in this situation?
- Who disagrees with my thinking and what do they see that I don’t?
A leader who is unreasonable all the time is exhausting. But a leader who is reasonable all the time can be dangerous. Organisations need leaders who can recognize reasonableness when it is risk-avoidance in disguise, who are comfortable with dissent, who know that significant outcomes (a new product, a turnaround, a cultural shift) usually start as something that sounds unreasonable. Effective leaders know that if every proposal is trimmed until it is acceptable to all, not much will happen. They know too that the words "Let's be reasonable" are often used to end a conversation, not improve it. They know that certain difficult conversations cannot be put off for too long. They are able to draw a clear line between being reasonable in manner (respectful, evidence-based, open) and being reasonable in ambition (settling for what's already acceptable).
Leadership is not about being unreasonable for its own sake. It is about recognizing when the price of being reasonable has become too high.
Has there been a time you waited but wish you hadn’t? How did you evaluate your options? What did you do? I would love to hear your stories.