I’ll admit it: I’m a nerd. I love board games, sci-fi, nostalgia, and, yes, Star Trek. So when Star Trek: Picard came out a few years ago, I jumped in with both feet. Not because Picard is my favorite (he isn’t), but because he’s undeniably one of the best captains in Trek.
There’s a moment in Season 1, Episode 4, where Picard reconnects with a group called the Qowat Milat, a Romulan order that lives by a principle called Absolute Candor. At first, I thought it was a ridiculous concept — too blunt, too rude, too much. But there’s this exchange between Picard and Elnor where the honesty is so unfiltered it becomes… awkward. You can practically feel the discomfort through the screen.
But here’s the thing: Underneath the awkwardness was something powerful — real understanding. No posturing. No tiptoeing. No guessing at motives. Just truth.
And honestly? Leadership could use a bit more of that.
“I Don’t Know” Is Not a Weakness
One of the quickest ways I build trust — with a customer, a teammate, or even someone above me — is by simply saying, “Let’s figure this out,” or “Give me a minute to dig in,” or “I don’t know yet, but I’ll find out.”
There’s no magic in those phrases. They’re just honest. And somehow, telling the truth about what you don’t know builds more credibility than pretending you have all the answers.
Every time I do it, the conversation shifts. People lean in. They see integrity instead of ego. And the answer I eventually come back with is stronger for it — richer, clearer, grounded in fact instead of guesswork.
The High Cost of Hiding the Truth
On the flip side, I once watched a leader refuse to own a mistake — and it changed everything.
They’d forgotten important details on a project and asked me to blur the truth to cover it up. Just “adjust the wording” a bit. Nothing major, right?
Except it was. Because my integrity — and my faith — aren’t just footnotes. They’re things I wear on the outside. And being asked to compromise that hit deep.
I chose truth. The fallout was expensive and messy, but the real damage was relational. I never trusted that leader again. And that’s the thing: when leaders hide the truth, trust evaporates faster than the error ever would have hurt.
Transparency Makes Us Human (And That’s a Good Thing)
If candor creates clarity, transparency creates connection.
Letting people see your limitations, your thinking, even your insecurities — it doesn’t diminish you. It makes you human. Predictable, even. And strangely enough, it gives others permission to be the same.
I’ve watched rooms relax when I say what everyone else is thinking but no one wants to say. I’ve seen peers open up the moment I put my own cards on the table.
It’s not leadership theater. It’s leadership honesty.
Candor Isn’t Comfortable — It’s Courageous
As an anxious person, candor doesn’t come naturally to me. I can picture 14,000,605 different negative outcomes (thanks, Dr. Strange). Most of them end poorly.
And yet — I still choose candor. Not because it’s comfortable. But because it’s right.
Courage isn’t being fearless. Courage is doing the right thing while your brain runs simulations of every possible failure.
Holding Back Costs More Than We Think
Early in my marriage, I traveled a lot for work. I’d have long stretches in hotels with too much time to think — usually about the worst-case scenarios. But I never told my wife about those fears. I didn’t want to burden her.
Except holding back didn’t protect anything. It just built walls. Misunderstandings. Distance.
Candor — honest, vulnerable candor — was the thing that rebuilt connection.
The same thing happens in teams. When we soften the truth, delay hard conversations, or avoid admitting what we feel, we trade short-term comfort for long-term strain.
Candor Builds Better Teams, Too
At Devoted Technology Services, we’ve taken on projects we hadn’t formally done before. Instead of pretending otherwise, we were upfront about it.
And you know what happened? We pushed harder. Documented deeper. Delivered better. Clients trusted us more — not because we were perfect, but because we were honest.
And when my own team comes to me and says, “I messed up,” my answer is always the same:
“We’ll figure it out together.”
Because leadership isn’t about having all the answers. It’s about walking the path with your people.
The Challenge
This week, try one moment of Absolute Candor. Say the thing you’re tempted to soften. Admit the uncertainty you’d rather hide. Tell the truth — even if your voice shakes a little.
It might feel awkward. It might feel vulnerable.
But it might also open a door nothing else could.
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