Sometimes the most important question is the one nobody is asking.
I’ve often thought that one of the more useful things experience teaches us is that we don’t always need to have an immediate answer.
That wasn’t necessarily how I saw things earlier in my career. Like many people in business, I valued decisiveness. And I still do. But I’ve come to appreciate that knowing when to stop and think can be just as important as knowing when to act.
I remember a particularly interesting period when I was running my consultancy business around the turn of the century.
The internet boom was gathering momentum, Y2K was dominating conversations, and there was enormous excitement about the opportunities ahead. Businesses were being valued on their customer numbers and anticipated growth, often with far less attention paid to whether they were actually making money.
Some of my fellow directors wanted us to follow the same path. The thinking was understandable. Everyone seemed to be heading in that direction, and nobody wanted to miss out.
We didn’t all agree on the way forward. There were different views around the boardroom table, and I understood why some of my colleagues wanted to pursue those opportunities. But ultimately, the decision rested with me.
Rather than rushing to follow the prevailing trend, I found myself returning to a fairly simple question: what actually makes a business valuable?
Was it the excitement surrounding a new market? The number of customers we could attract? Or was it something more fundamental — providing a service people genuinely needed, at a fair price, while making a sustainable profit?
For me, the answer was the latter.
That didn’t mean ignoring new opportunities. It meant being careful not to confuse opportunity with hype.
We stayed focused on what we believed made our business worthwhile. We may have missed some of the extraordinary short-term gains others enjoyed, but when the market eventually crashed, we were still standing.
In fact, we emerged in a stronger position, with fewer competitors and, perhaps most importantly, customers who appreciated that we had continued to support them reliably throughout.
Some even took the time to thank us.
I remember that particularly well because it reinforced something I’d believed for a long time: a business is ultimately judged by the value it delivers, not simply by the excitement it generates.
Of course, I couldn’t have known exactly how events would unfold. And I’m not suggesting that caution is always the right approach. Sometimes taking a bold risk is precisely what a business needs.
But there is a difference between taking a considered risk and following everyone else because we’re afraid of being left behind.
And I think there’s a lesson here that extends well beyond business.
How often have we responded to a comment from someone close to us before they’ve really finished explaining what they meant? We hear a few words, recognise a familiar frustration and begin preparing our reply. By the time they finish speaking, we’re ready with an answer to something they may not have been asking.
I suspect most of us have done that. I certainly wouldn’t claim to be immune.
Listening properly takes more effort than we sometimes acknowledge. It means being prepared to hear something that challenges our first impression. Occasionally, it means accepting that we’ve misunderstood the situation altogether.
Whether we’re making a difficult business decision or having a conversation with someone we care about, perhaps the real skill is knowing when to pause, listen and question our assumptions.
Experience doesn’t make us right all the time. Far from it.
But hopefully it teaches us to become a little less concerned with having all the answers and a little more interested in understanding the questions.
And sometimes, that’s what makes all the difference.