Episode 033 Business Strategy

Not Him Again

When you question the system, you become the problem—how organizations punish employees brave enough to test their claims of openness.

Episode 033 00:12:24

Episode audio

Artwork: Not Him Again
Not Him Again
0:00
—

Transcript

Welcome to Iconoclast Insights – the podcast where we challenge conventional assumptions and explore new perspectives on business and leadership. I'm André Daus, and today we're talking about something almost everyone claims to love: openness. But what does that really mean? And why doesn't it work in most companies the way they say it does?

The Origin Story

It was many years ago, but I remember it vividly – my first real project as an employee. I was responsible for software that had to deliver data to a larger initiative. Since I was the main supplier, I quickly found myself sitting in project meetings.

The project itself was struggling – badly. It had been running for years without much progress. According to the project leader, the problem was primarily the data I was delivering. I had little project experience at the time, so I did what came naturally: I asked questions. Simple questions. Maybe even stupid questions. I wanted to understand why things weren't working and how I could help fix them.

At first, the board member – the project stakeholder – was interested in my questions. He wanted to understand how the data was being used and what could be improved. That felt incredible. Someone with real authority actually wanted to hear my perspective.

But then something changed. After a conversation between him and the project leader, the contact abruptly stopped. Suddenly, I wasn't the employee trying to help anymore. I became "not him again." When I spoke in meetings, people rolled their eyes or looked away. My data mysteriously couldn't be processed anymore. Invitations to meetings stopped arriving.

The message was clear: my views were not welcome.

The Realization

I was disappointed. Deeply disappointed. Because I had never attacked anyone personally – I only cared about the work, about making things better. When someone makes it personal, that's painful. You start questioning yourself: Did I do something wrong? Did I cross a line?

But I knew I hadn't. I had only asked about the work. The problem wasn't me – it was on the other side of the table.

Years later, I learned the truth: the project leader had made that project his personal baby. He wanted to keep it alive, not end it. Anything that threatened his position was immediately shut down. The project wasn't about success – it was about survival. His survival.

That experience, decades ago now, wasn't the direct inspiration for Strategic Opposition. But it was certainly a turning point. It taught me something fundamental: you can have the best ideas in the world, but if the culture and egos don't cooperate, nothing happens.

The Pattern Repeats

Fast forward to today. Openness is fashionable. Who would publicly admit they're not open? Most companies sell it as culture, plaster it on their websites, feature it in recruitment videos. But the reality often looks different. I remember an innovation box at another company – one of those suggestion boxes where employees could anonymously submit ideas. A colleague told me about an idea he had: opening a training room on weekends for a network party. Back then, fast networks weren't common, and the room sat empty on weekends anyway. Practical. Creative. Low cost.

His idea was published anonymously, and people mocked it. They made jokes, dismissed it, and ultimately ignored it. That employee told me it was his last submission. And he wasn't alone. The box stopped being used. Word got around. The project initiator's conclusion? "Employees don't want to contribute." Not "we failed to create psychological safety." Not "we punished vulnerability." No – it was the employees' fault.

Here's how you recognize the pattern today: in meetings, someone asks, "Does anyone have other ideas?" Silence. Nobody responds. The leaders interpret this as success: "We asked. We gave them the opportunity. They had nothing to say, so everything must be fine."

Wrong. Dead wrong.

If nobody speaks up, if nobody brings new ideas to the table, if nobody asks uncomfortable questions – that's not a sign that everything is perfect. It's a sign that people are afraid. Afraid of being ridiculed, marginalized, or becoming "that person again." There's no psychological safety. And leadership has created that void, even if they refuse to see it.

The Diversity Illusion

Let me be blunt about something else: diversity. I have a colleague who's built his career on getting more women into leadership positions. He's proud every time a client achieves a higher percentage of female executives. And look, I'm not against that – but let's be honest about what's actually happening.

Diversity isn't about gender quotas. It's not about genitals – it's about what's between the ears. Cognitive diversity. Thought diversity.

You can have a perfectly balanced room – fifty percent men, fifty percent women – and still have complete intellectual homogeneity. Same educational background. Same career paths. Same mental models. Same assumptions. That's representation, not diversity.

Real diversity happens when someone enters the room and asks the "dumb" questions nobody else thought to ask. When someone challenges the consensus not to be difficult, but because they genuinely see things differently. That person might be a woman. Might be a man. Might be someone without the "right" credentials. What matters is the thinking, not the biology.

The World Economic Forum has been listing critical thinking as a core competency for years. Companies love saying they promote it. They check the box and move on. But do they actually cultivate it? Do they reward it? Or do they just say they do while quietly punishing anyone who practices it?

Strategic Opposition – The Alternative

This is exactly where Strategic Opposition comes in – and this is what separates real openness from corporate theater.

Strategic Opposition isn't about being contrary for its own sake. It's not about annoying people or playing devil's advocate just to hear yourself talk. It's about systematically creating a counterpoint that forces you to see reality from multiple angles.

It's based on Red Team Thinking – methods developed in military and intelligence contexts where getting it wrong means catastrophic failure. When teams develop strategies and nobody challenges them, everything gets implemented exactly as written. And then the problems show up later – in operations, in execution, in results.

But when you allow opposition – when you structure it, when you make it safe and expected – you can make strategies more robust. You can identify weaknesses before they become failures. You can bring employees into the process instead of forcing compliance.

Here's a simple example: divide the leadership team that created the strategy into smaller groups. Have them actively try to find and exploit weaknesses in their own plan. Use those insights to strengthen the strategy or, at minimum, prepare better explanations for the people who'll have to implement it.

Sounds obvious, right? Yet almost nobody does it. Because it requires something most organizations claim to have but actually don't: genuine openness. Not the performative kind. The uncomfortable kind.

Finding My Role

I've learned to love a particular role: being the dumbest person in the room. The one asking questions that make people squirm because someone has to find answers. It's a form of resilience training – something I learned years ago at IBM.

A former colleague once told me he stopped contributing opinions in meetings because people would use his words against him later. Instead, he only asked questions. That way, he could always say: "I never said that – I only asked." That stuck with me. Not the defensiveness, but the power of inquiry.

Of course, this only works when the other side is willing. I've had clients who said they were open but looked visibly uncomfortable throughout our sessions. One CEO admitted afterward that he was glad he "pushed through." I think he still uses some of those methods today. But you never really know.

The point is: you can't force someone to accept opposition. But you can show them how valuable it is. You can create conditions where it becomes possible. And sometimes, that's enough to start real change.

The Recognition Test

So here's my appeal to leaders, executives, anyone responsible for decisions that affect others:

If nobody brings new ideas to your meetings – if nobody asks uncomfortable questions, if nobody challenges the consensus – that is not a sign that everything is fine. It's the exact opposite. It's a warning signal that something is fundamentally broken.

When silence fills your conference rooms, that's not agreement. It's fear dressed up as harmony.

Real openness requires courage. It requires systemic thinking. It requires willingness to accept criticism – not just say you accept it. Not just create feedback mechanisms and innovation boxes and anonymous surveys. Those are useless without the culture to support them.

Openness isn't a policy you implement. It's a practice you live. And if you're only preaching it while quietly punishing anyone who practices it, you're sabotaging yourself.

Your thinking creates your limits. The boundaries you accept become the boundaries you enforce. And when you shut down opposition – even subtly, even unconsciously – you're choosing comfort over truth.

That's expensive. More expensive than most leaders realize until it's too late.

Closing

So question everything. Challenge your assumptions. Welcome the person who makes you uncomfortable. Because that discomfort? That's where growth lives.

Thanks for being here today. If this episode resonated with you, share it with someone who needs to hear it. I'm André Daus, and this was Iconoclast Insights. Until next time – keep questioning everything.

Beyond the podcast

If this sounds like
your problem,

30 minutes. No preparation. We find the assumption most worth examining first.