The Problem With Knowing
Have you ever heard the term “need to know?” As in, “You’re on a need-to-know basis.”
Usually, it means: “I have some information you’d like to know, but I’m not going to tell you—partly so I can feel more important than I really am.”
That’s the common meaning. But I want to use it differently here—actually, in two different ways. One is a good thing. The other… not so much.
The Upside of Need to Know
I’m naturally curious. Always have been.
When I encounter something I don’t understand, I want to understand it. I need to know. It’s a thirst for knowledge, a quest to make sense of the world—and, if I’m being fully honest, probably a generous dose of nosiness. But overall, I think that kind of curiosity is a good thing.
It stretches me.
It grows me.
It keeps me from stagnating—or from being even more boring than I am naturally. 😬
Of course, it has to be kept in check sometimes. Take museum visits with Michelle, for example. I want to stop and read every plaque at every exhibit. I could spend hours doing that. But my sweet wife is wired differently—she’s a go-getter, and after a while she’s ready to go get out of there. So I rein in my curiosity, skip some of the plaques (painful!), and focus on the most important ones. We meet in the middle… until she finally leaves me behind to wait on a bench.
Curiosity, when channeled, is a growth engine. But there’s another “need to know” that works in the opposite direction.
The Downside of Need to Know
Some people have a need to know already. They feel the need to always appear as if they know—rather than risk admitting they don’t.
I don’t relate to that. If I don’t know something, I’d rather admit it and learn than bluff my way through and risk being exposed as an imposter. But for some, admitting they don’t know must feel unsafe. Maybe it’s fear of being judged. Maybe it’s pride. Whatever the reason, they cling to the appearance of knowing, even when they don’t.
Here’s the problem: when I already “know,” I stop learning.
Why bother? It’s like trying to “wet water”—pointless.
But knowing can be intoxicating. It feels powerful. It feeds our confidence, our validation, our sense of worth. And not knowing? That can feel threatening, like a spotlight on our inadequacy.
The truth is, to others, not knowing doesn’t make you look weak—it makes you look smart. It shows you care enough to ask and have the confidence to learn.
Great leaders understand this. They aren’t afraid of not knowing. They surround themselves with people who know more. Abraham Lincoln famously built his cabinet during the Civil War from a “team of rivals”—including William Seward, Salmon P. Chase, and Edwin Stanton—men who had opposed or criticized him. I imagine he felt some trepidation, but he knew the job was too big to do alone.
As John Maxwell says, “One is too small a number to achieve greatness.” Lincoln knew that, and history reveres him for it.
Leadership Lessons from “Need to Know”
Let your need to know propel you to learn. Stay curious. Seek understanding. Grow yourself.
Get comfortable not knowing. Your ego doesn’t need to have all the answers. Not knowing is the first step to learning.
Be kind to yourself. There’s no shame in not knowing. Treat yourself the way you’d treat someone else eager to learn.
Surround yourself with people smarter than you. As Confucius said, “If you’re the smartest person in the room, you’re in the wrong room.”
