It’s Not What You Think
Last week I was chatting with a client who was sharing the results of a meeting they had earlier that day. This client and I have worked together for a long time, and at one point even both worked for the same company. So I understood a lot of the details of what they were saying and could confirm much of it with what I know about the organization. But I was curious about some of the statements they made, particularly those that began with the words “I think”, e.g.:
“I think they don’t support me”
“ I think they’re doing this to cover their butts (paraphrased)”
“They said that, and they must think I’m stupid”
“It seems to me that they don’t have time for me”
What do you think?
I was concerned because this client was upset, and many of these statements might have made them feel worse. I’m not suggesting you should avoid saying “I think”. The phrase has its place. Sometimes we say “I think” to imply that our mind, our reasoning agent, was involved in the process. For example, “After studying the tests, I think the problem is with the conversation formula”. This is OK. Sometimes we say “I think” when something is a fact, or known to us as a fact. “I think” softens the statement, as in “I think the results show a problem with the product” or “I think I was really angry when I said that”. This is OK, too. What I want to talk about here are the times we say “I think” because we are extrapolating the truth from what we heard in the context of our systems and experiences.
Here be dragons.
Why? Because our systems and experiences could be biased and constrained.
Here’s a more personal example: Last night I had trouble falling asleep because I kept recalling something that happened to me years ago. Someone wrote something hurtful in an email I wasn’t supposed to see (as was also conveyed in said email). The intended recipient forwarded the email to me, for some reason, and I was wounded by both actions. Last night, as I reflected on this, I kept asking myself “why would they do this to me when I was only trying to be helpful?” Years ago, my answer was “I think they are vindictive or political, or trying to put me down because of <insert your favorite reason here>”. Well, now I have a different answer.
Telling ourselves stories
What you think is a story you are creating to make sense of a situation. In her book, Unlocking Leadership Mindtraps[1], Jennifer Garvey Berger describes the types of stories you might be telling yourself, and why. Many of the reasons are good ones, because they help you move forward with a decision, work through negotiations, or plan around an issue. Telling ourselves stories has its pros and cons. Some of the cons are:
Stories may put the truth at risk. They may preclude it and prevent the whole truth from being revealed.
Stories can get mixed up with the facts in the bigger context. Both blend together into the larger dataset, and as a result, stories become fact.
We humans may become invested in this false narrative. It becomes so important to us, so key to our understanding of the world around us, that we base all future decisions off of it without critical consideration of what is known and what is presumed.
On the “Pro” side, there are times when telling yourself a story is key to providing emotional protection so you can move on. I recommend it, but under certain circumstances which I describe later. The better choice is to move from what you think to what you know.
Moving what you think to what you know
The reasons you want to move from what you think to what you know is to counter the cons of telling yourself a story and to avoid getting emotionally spun-up over something that just is not true. Save that emotional fuel for when you need it. Here’s how to make this move, using the two scenarios I introduced up front.
You can do this work in your head, but I recommend creating two lists on paper, one labeled “Think” and the other “Know”. Statements that have the word “think” (or a synonym) in them go under—you guessed it—the “Think” column. To move them to “Know” you create hypotheses: what test would prove that what you think is, in fact, a fact?
The best way is to use the scientific method; i.e, what can you measure or observe? What does that data tell you? Perhaps it’s that the truth is not what you think it is. Let’s consider the statements from my client.
“I think they don’t support me”
Who is “they” in this case? If this is your boss, what feedback records do you have? Things like annual or semi-annual reviews, development conversations, etc. These artifacts demonstrate a level of endorsement that makes it hard to argue your boss doesn’t support you. Even if they are critical, the feedback is intended to support. If “they” in this case is an indirect supervisor, ally, mentor, or sponsor, how many times have they met with you and/or coached you? Look at your calendar and tally up the events. If it is a frequency greater than once per quarter, then your hypothesis is false. This event-counting test can help prove/disprove the next story as well.
“It seems to me that they don’t have time for me”.
Again, what does the meeting frequency indicate?
“I think they’re doing this to cover their butts”
There should be data to support this obfuscation. First off, what are they covering their butts from? What evidence exists, like meeting notes or a presentation, that proves there is an issue counter to their behavior? Are there other reasons for their behavior that you could test?
Asking the questions
Sometimes empirical evidence does not exist and you just have to ask. Consider “They said that, they must think I’m stupid”. Asking someone if they think you are stupid feels scary and puts you in a vulnerable position. There is a way to do it safely, however. I recommend having a Crucial Conversation (there’s a book[2], online training, consultant-based training, you can even practice with your coach). In a Crucial Conversation, instead of asking what they think, or specifically if they think you are stupid, share an example of what you heard them say and how that makes you think they have a low opinion of you. If your story is correct, then you ask what can you do to address it. If your story is incorrect (likely), now they know how their words can be perceived. If they have an open mind, they may find this learning quite helpful. And regardless, you’ve connected in a constructive manner and took a step toward improving communication.
The objective for all this testing is to move all statements from the THINK column to the KNOW column. What you think can often end up in the KNOW column in a different form entirely! My client, in this example, had a follow-up meeting where they asked directly (they are very brave). And it turns out, now they know a lot more and it’s not what they thought: The other side thinks quite highly of them, are very supportive, and believe they are super smart. Things are in a better place.
What about my own example from years ago? What do you do if the event that is driving the story happened in the past? Well, if the other party is still available, you can ask anyway and get the clarification you need to move from THINK to KNOW. But if they are not—they have moved on or you have moved on or both, or you are trying to reach out but they are ghosting you—this is when telling yourself a story could be the right thing to do. You can’t use the WayBack Machine to uncover the facts, unfortunately. So tell create a story that defends the position you took, but it shouldn’t be that they are vindictive, political, ladder-climbing backstabbers. That’s heading for the dragons.
Bear in mind that at the other end is another human. They tell themselves stories, too. They could have been thinking that you didn’t respect them, or were trying to take their job, or were currying favor with the boss. They didn’t test what they thought at the time, and that is too bad. They missed an opportunity to learn, to understand, to know something that is now lost. In my case, they didn’t inquire why I created that presentation that they snarked about in email. If they had, they would have learned that the CEO asked me to do so. They could have uncovered a gap between themselves and the CEO’s understanding of the product. They could have demonstrated collaboration, which the CEO might have appreciated. This could have led to their being recognized as an effective leader. You get my drift.
Mind you, this is still a story. But, it is one that protects me without making the other side out to be the villain. And now I know that I will sleep well tonight.

[1] Berger, Jennifer Garvey. Unlocking Leadership Mindtraps: How to Thrive in Complexity. Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 2019.
[2] Grenny, Joseph, Kerry Patterson, Ron McMillan, Al Switzler, and Emily Gregory. Crucial Conversations: Tools for Talking When the Stakes Are High. New York: McGraw Hill, 2023.
