I Don’t Need You To Be Honest With Me
TL;DR:
In program management, unknown unknowns are the ones that sink a project, because you don't even know what you don't know. Coaching turns out to have the same split hiding inside every "I don't know" a client says out loud, and this piece is about learning to tell the two apart.
When I became program manager for 150 people, my main responsibility was to understand how people face uncertainty. In the first few weeks, I heard a sentence that put everything upside down, for my approach at least.
There are known unknowns and unknown unknowns.
This sounded similar to countable and uncountable infinities when I heard it, but I'll let you off the hook on that concept for now. Risk management, the primary task of a program manager, revolves around the dance with both of those unknowns. The job is simple. Find all the unknowns that people are willing to admit they don't know how to solve, and come up with a plan to mitigate those unknowns before they turn into a disaster. The trick is that people don't like to admit what they don't know, and this is the better of the two.
With truly unknown unknowns, you have absolutely no idea what you're dealing with, so you're left with your best guess and a risk mitigation plan for when shit hits the fan, so the disaster can be tamed instead of the entire project sliding down the drain. The concepts are simple, the execution is challenging.
But Csaba, you're a coach now and write about human patterns. What makes these unknowns important?
When people sit uncomfortably with their current trouble and get asked a question about what could be done to solve it, the most common sentence said out loud becomes "I don't know." Funny, isn't it?
When a project depends on it, people go out of their way just to not admit that they don't know when they'll be ready. The exact opposite happens when they willingly pay for an hour to find a solution, but when they have to face their own circumstances, they'd rather hide behind the curtain of unknowing than say out loud what feels frightening.
Now why is that?
When it comes to "I don't know" in coaching sessions: "Always two there are, no more, no less."
The easier of the two is a true lack of experience or education, when somebody lacks hard knowledge. One of my favorite examples is driving. The lack of hard knowledge here means they never learned how to drive, don't know what traffic signs mean, or don't know how to get from A to B. Absolutely no clue. This type of unknown is easy because we cannot do anything with it. I mean, they can, and if they want to drive a car, they should. But I'm not authorized to teach them, so I won't pretend that I can help with that trouble. At that point, the decision becomes easy: sign up for a course and let's see each other later.
The trickier of the two is the lie about the unknown, and I don't mean to throw shade. I too still find myself regressing to this sentence when I feel too uncomfortable to say out loud what I think or feel while working through my own troubles. I mean it's a lie because we both sense there's something you're hiding, something that feels too vulnerable to say to a "stranger." When we reach that moment, one of the most wonderful things that can happen within a session happens. It means we found what was in the blind-spot.
Sticking with the driving example, driving can make fresh drivers' knees shake nervously. Everybody's speeding around them. There are more mirrors than eyes that could look into them, not to mention all the buttons, knobs, pedals, levers, noises, or the wheel. Do we even want to touch on driving the stick?
In this exemplary unknown, the "I don't know" usually refers to being afraid of driving itself, then the shame of not practicing or getting over that fear. Notice how similar that is to any other example your mind is playing for you right now.
The work becomes entirely different with this unknown.
In this context, we decide to lie about the entire truth to avoid facing the full discomfort of feeling seen by someone. That moment is awkward because it's surprising, but usually not in the best sense. What was hidden in that blind-spot is often shameful to admit, given how tiny it might feel compared to how much trouble it might have caused so far. It often feels obvious, like of course I'm afraid of driving because I never sit behind the wheel to practice. But I don't have the time, I don't know where to practice, or I'm afraid I'd cause damage to the car. That loop is the trap.
But that's okay. Actually, that is the entire work. When I write about being framework-less, I mostly refer to this philosophy. In that moment of discomfort, we have the chance to catch the loop by its neck and slowly chip away its grip. While we do so, we just might awaken the antidote to some of these troubles, and that is curiosity.
The goal is never for you to be honest with me. In fact, if you don't lie to me, I don't do my job well enough. My job is to make you uncomfortable enough so you build up courage to hover around what has been left unsaid for months or even years. The goal is that you can start to become honest with yourself.
The next time you catch yourself regressing to "I don't know," don't try to push through it. Notice it. Observe what topic made you so uncomfortable that you decided not to share something with the world, and more importantly, notice how you feel in that moment. Get curious about the gap between your existing knowledge and what stops you from putting it into practice. That will be the key.
A good coach will make you uncomfortable enough so you will reach for the sedation of "I don't know." A great coach will make you so comfortable around that point that you eventually find yourself saying what you didn't want to admit.
It’s perfectly okay to ask for support. You don’t have to figure everything out on your own. While I believe everyone is their own best expert, I’m also a big believer in asking for help to create change together. It’s comforting to have someone by our side as we go through transitions. If you’re feeling motivated to expand your comfort zone and curious about how I can support you on your journey, let’s talk.
This kind of reflection is a starting point, not a finish line. Online life coaching picks up where the article leaves off.
