There are two kinds of people in this world.
One, the ones who know the answer and can’t wait to yell it out. And two, the ones who don’t know the answer and feel a sudden, urgent need to check their shoelaces.
We’ve all been in that classroom. The one where the teacher asks a question and the entire sea of hands goes up, a forest of confident fingers pointing to the sky. And you? You’re in the back row, a lone island of doubt, praying the teacher doesn’t make eye contact. You can feel the hot lava of embarrassment bubbling in your throat as they scan the room, your brain screaming, “No, not me, please not me!”
But let’s flip the script.
What if you’re the only one with your hand up? You’re the hero. The saviour. The one who will rescue the class from a moment of collective silence. It’s a sweet, delicious rush of validation. It’s almost impossible to resist. The thought of not raising your hand in that moment? It’s unthinkable.
And that’s the problem.
Because this knee-jerk, hand-raising tendency—this desperate need to show everyone you know the answer—is something we carry with us from the classroom to the conference room.
It happens all the time. A bunch of friends are debating something they’re all clueless about. But you? You read an article on that exact topic a week ago. You have the Gyan. The temptation is a beast. Your hand is already itching to go up, your mouth ready to unleash a flood of unsolicited wisdom.
But what if you didn’t? What if you kept that information to yourself?
Look, two things can happen when you jump in to “save the day.”
One, you’re right. You just gave away your valuable insight for free. The rest of the group says, “Oh, thanks!” and moves on. You gained nothing. They gained your knowledge. It’s a bad trade.
Two, you’re wrong. You’ve just made a complete jackass of yourself in front of everyone. Remember that famous meteorological department? They declared a red alert for two days of heavy rain. People cancelled plans, packed their umbrellas. Then the sun came out, a glorious, smug yellow orb in a cloudless sky. Who asked them? Nobody. They just had to be the hero, and look what happened.
In the corporate world, this is a surefire way to get more work, not more recognition. The reward for doing great work, they say, is more great work. If you constantly raise your hand to show you have the answer, you’ll just end up with a pile of other people’s problems on your plate.
The most powerful people I’ve seen are the ones who sit quietly when others are flailing. They don’t jump in with a solution. They let the chaos unfold. They listen. And they only act when the time is right.
So next time you find yourself in a room where you know the answer, just sit back. Observe. In your head, run a quick mental checklist: “Is my answer right? Yes. Am I 100% sure? Yes.” And then, instead of blurting it out, calculate your escape route.
The ability to keep quiet, even when you know the answer, is the ultimate flex. It’s the highest form of discipline. It’s a skill that says, “I’m playing a different game. And in my game, silence is the real superpower.”
0
20