In the hallowed corridors of management, there exists a breed of leaders so enamoured with the sound of their own wisdom, they seldom notice the glazed eyes and stifled yawns of their audience. You know the type. They walk into a meeting room with the swagger of a pirate boarding a ship, ready to bellow their treasure trove of opinions like cannonballs. This, they believe, is the epitome of leadership. In a word, loud.
But what if—just what if—there was a different way to steer the ship? A way that didn’t involve monologues that could be more effectively delivered to a room full of mannequins?
Let us then propose a thought: leading by asking questions. Not the rhetorical kind that are really just sneaky statements wearing a question mark for disguise—like “Don’t you think my idea is fantastic?”—but genuine inquiries. The kind where you actually want to know what others think. Questions like “What should we do?”, “What’s the problem?”, and the ever-hopeful “Okay, what’s next?”
Asking questions does something magical: it turns the floor over to the smart people you presumably hired because they were smart. Imagine that! Instead of spouting answers, you let them articulate the problems and sculpt the solutions. This not only makes them feel valued—because nothing says ‘I value you’ quite like actually listening to someone—but it also serves a dual purpose. It gives you, the bold and fearless leader, a chance to update your opinions based on new, and probably superior, information.
This art of questioning also affords a splendid opportunity to learn. Every “What do you think?” is a chance to peek into the brains of your team, a thrilling excursion into the wild jungles of other people’s thoughts. It’s like being an intellectual Indiana Jones, without the risk of giant rolling boulders.
So, next time you feel the urge to march into a meeting and dazzle everyone with your vocal chords, remember: they might just learn more by hearing less of you and more of themselves. After all, a great leader is like a great conductor—they don’t reach out themselves to bang wooden-handedly on the piano, they let the violins vibe, the flutes float and the triangle tinkle at just the right moment. Yes, even a triangle player deserves their moment in the sun.