Good Questions Age Better Than Good Answers

Good Questions Age Better Than Good Answers

There was a leader I worked for many years ago who kept a folder behind his desk.

The label wasn't exactly fit for your traditional corporate environment back then.

It simply read:

"Shit That Don't Make Sense."

Every time something didn't add up, into the folder it went.

• A report that looked odd. 

• A new store that flopped. 

• A market's performance nobody could explain. 

• A competitor's response that didn't fit expectations. 

• An operational metric that seemed out of place. 

The common denominator wasn't that something was wrong.

It was that something didn't make sense.

Every few weeks he'd pull one of those pages from the folder, lay it on the conference table, lean back in his chair, and ask,

"Okay... what's going on here?"

The room would come alive.

Someone would offer a theory.

Someone else would build on it.

Another person would disagree.

He'd listen patiently.

Sometimes he'd nod.

Sometimes he'd simply smile.

Then, just when everyone thought we had it figured out, he'd ask,

"So what are we missing?"

There was something interesting about that question.

It didn't challenge the people in the room.

It challenged our confidence.

At the time, I assumed that folder was simply his way of organizing unresolved issues.

I don't think that anymore.

I think it was his way of preserving curiosity.

Not every question deserves a quick answer.

Some deserve another conversation.

Over the years, I've noticed that organizations rarely struggle to generate explanations.

Someone notices something unexpected.

The room gets quiet.

An explanation is offered.

Heads begin to nod.

The meeting moves on.

Sometimes that's exactly what should happen.

Sometimes we've simply accepted the first answer that made everyone comfortable.

Those aren't always the same thing.

When I was younger, I admired people who seemed to have an answer for everything.

Today, I admire something different.

I admire people who are comfortable saying,

"I don't think we understand this yet."

or

“I’m not so sure I agree. What do you think?”

That isn't a lack of confidence.

It's confidence of a different kind.

The confidence to remain curious a little longer.

Looking back, I think my former boss understood something I didn't appreciate at the time. (To be honest, he understood a bunch of stuff I didn’t appreciate at the time.)

Questions are fragile.

Once a room convinces itself it has the answer, the question often disappears.

And sometimes that's unfortunate.

Because good questions have a remarkable quality.

They outlive their answers.

Technology changes.

Markets change.

Customers change.

Organizations change.

But questions like...

What are we assuming?

Compared to what?

What evidence would change our minds?

What are we missing?

...never really become obsolete.

One lesson has stayed with me all these years.

Most people keep files on things they understand.

He kept a file on the things he didn't.

I've come to believe there's wisdom in that.

Not because unanswered questions are somehow better than answers.

But because the willingness to protect a good question is often what makes a better answer possible.

For Lack of a Conclusion...

Every organization has its own version of that folder.

Most just don't know where it is.

It's filled with things that never quite made sense.

Questions that deserved another conversation.

Ideas that were explained before they were understood.

Perhaps before we rush to solve the next problem...

...we should spend a little more time protecting the questions worth asking.

Because answers help us make today's decisions.

Good questions help us make better ones tomorrow.