Straight off the bat, you might have realized that the 10th issue of the DGQ series – damn good questions – starts off with a non-question. And it is intentional by design. I often waste a number of calories constructing the perfect question. And in many ways, I get very, very close to what I deem as perfection. Exhibit A, B, and C.
But over the course of constructing the perfect question and its subsequent research, I often uncover the answer I am seeking… before I even ask it to the intended designee. I don’t mean for the odd question here and there amidst spontaneous conversation. But the predestined ones to be asked in:
- Fireside chats
- Intro conversations
- Coffee chats with individuals where I’m punching above my weight class
- Podcast interviews
- Social experiments
- First dates (possibly self-incriminating)
Accompanied by the excuse of creating conversation, I ask it despite the since-acquired knowledge. Sometimes to the wonder and amazement of the recipient, but more often than not to the boredom of myself. While the words that flutter out of my mouth may sound like a question, it ends up merely being a statement rearranged on a NY Times crossword puzzle.
In reframing questions for myself, I realized… If I knew all the answers to the questions I would ask, that’d make for quite a boring life. While boredom only surfaced a minority of the time, it occurred noticeably enough times. If I had a mirror to myself every time I asked a question, I imagine I would find myself asking the ones I have the answers to already with a furrowed brow.
Last year, in the relentless pursuit of being a better host for structured conversations, I over-optimized for shock and delightful surprise. Shock became my unfortunate currency for my personal delight. Rather than enlightenment, education, and inspiration. In the construction of the “perfect question,” while protecting my downside – in terms of embarrassment, I capped my upside.
So, this essay is a reminder to myself. Ask dumb questions. It’s okay. It’s only by reinventing yourself again and again through the ashes of unintentional ignorance can you rise like a phoenix.
I’m reminded of a quote by quite a contrarian philosopher, Karl Popper, but nevertheless quite appropriate here. “Good tests kill flawed theories; we remain alive to guess again.”
If you’re reading this essay, be prepared for a lot more dumb questions from me. Dumb, not garbled. Dumb and simple. I’ll continue to do my homework before conversations. But if I’ve found the answer already, I’m going to keep myself accountable to either find new questions or cancel the meeting. Cheers to the motif of exploration! And I’ll see you where I cannot foresee.
Photo by Faye Cornish on Unsplash
The DGQ series is a series dedicated to my process of question discovery and execution. When curiosity is the why, DGQ is the how. It’s an inside scoop of what goes on in my noggin’. My hope is that it offers some illumination to you, my readers, so you can tackle the world and build relationships with my best tools at your disposal. It also happens to stand for damn good questions, or dumb and garbled questions. I’ll let you decide which it falls under.
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