The Three Words That Make You a Better Leader (And Why Most Leaders Are Too Scared to Say Them)

The strongest leaders aren’t the ones with all the answers. They’re the ones honest enough to admit when they don’t have them.

I love martial arts.

Started with aikido in 1985. Moved to hapkido from ‘87 to 2007 until GM Han passed away.

After that, explored kali, tai chi, and wing chun.

Then in 2023, I found Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu at Meraki and dove in headfirst—sometimes literally.

And I’ve been loving it.

Except for one thing that drives me crazy.

I ask a lot of questions. Always have. It’s how I learn.

So when I’m working on a technique and something isn’t clicking, I’ll ask someone with more experience: “How do you make this work? What am I missing?”

And here’s what I get all too often:

Hesitancy. Hemming and hawing. And the most common response in BJJ culture:

I’ve asked visiting students. I’ve asked professors from other academies. I’ve asked black belts with decades of experience.

Same answer. “It depends.”

I get it.

What works for one person might not work for another.

Body types differ.

Styles differ.

Contexts differ.

I think to myself, "But come on... You’ve got years of experience. You must have some insight that could help me."

And then I realized something:

This hesitancy, this refusal to claim absolute knowledge, this constant qualification—it’s not a weakness.

It’s one of the most powerful leadership traits I’ve encountered.

Because the alternative? The guy who thinks he knows everything? The “my way or the highway” foreman I worked under in construction?

That guy is insufferable. And ultimately, ineffective.

So here’s what I want to share with you today:

The three most important words a leader can say.

And more importantly, what to say after those three words to transform them from a weakness into a strength.

The Three Words Most Leaders Are Too Scared to Say

That’s it.

Three simple words that most leaders would rather choke on than admit.

Because we’ve been taught that leaders are supposed to have all the answers.

That admitting you don’t know something is a sign of weakness. That uncertainty undermines authority. That if you can’t answer every question with confidence, you’re not qualified to lead.

It’s all bullshit.

Only fools, idiots, and assholes think they know all the answers.

The world is too big. Too complex. Too ever-changing.

And the quicker you can own up to that simple fact, the easier your life will be.

Why Leaders Refuse to Say “I Don’t Know”

Here’s what happens in most organizations:

Someone asks the leader a question. The leader doesn’t know the answer. But instead of admitting it, they:

• Make something up
• Deflect with jargon
• Give a vague non-answer that sounds authoritative
• Get defensive and shut down the question
• Blame someone else for not providing the information

Why? Because they’re terrified of looking incompetent.

They think that admitting they don’t know something will undermine their authority. That their team will lose respect for them. That they’ll be exposed as a fraud.

But here’s the truth:

Your team already knows you don’t have all the answers.

They’re not stupid. They can tell when you’re bullshitting. They can see through the deflection and the jargon.

And every time you fake it, you lose a little more credibility.

What I Learned From Construction Foremen

I worked construction for decades. And I worked under a lot of different foremen.

Some were good. Most were mediocre. A few were terrible.

The terrible ones? They were the “my way or the highway” guys.

They had one way of doing things. They refused to consider alternatives. They shut down questions. They treated any challenge to their methods as insubordination.

And their crews hated them.

Not just disliked. Hated.

Because nobody wants to work for someone who thinks they’re infallible. Nobody wants to follow someone who can’t admit when they’re wrong or when they don’t know something.

It’s exhausting. It’s demoralizing. And it’s dangerous.

Because on a jobsite, not knowing something and pretending you do can get people hurt.

The good foremen? They were different.

They’d say, “I don’t know. Let me check the plans.” Or “I’m not sure. Let me call the engineer.” Or “That’s a good question. Let me find out.”

And their crews respected them more, not less.

Because honesty builds trust. And trust is the foundation of effective leadership.

What I’m Learning From BJJ Culture

In BJJ, the culture is different from most martial arts I’ve trained.

In traditional martial arts, there’s often a clear hierarchy. The instructor is the authority. You don’t question. You don’t challenge. You follow.

In BJJ, it’s more collaborative.

Black belts will roll with white belts and genuinely try to help them improve.

And sometimes, because the art is so wide and deep, I've seen black belts tell their white belt training partners that this was the first time they've also seen this technique, "So we're going to learn this together."

And inevitably, when you ask a question, you get “It depends.”

At first, this frustrated me. I wanted clear answers. I wanted the “right” way to do things.

But the more I train, the more I realize: “It depends” is the most honest answer.

Because there isn’t one right way.

There are principles. There are concepts. There are techniques that work in certain contexts.

But the application depends on your body, your opponent, the situation, the timing.

And the people who say “It depends” aren’t being evasive. They’re being honest about the complexity of the art.

They’re refusing to oversimplify something that can’t be simplified.

And that humility—that willingness to say “I don’t know the perfect answer for you, but here’s what works for me”—is what makes BJJ culture so effective at developing skilled practitioners.

The Problem With “I Don’t Know” (And How to Fix It)

Now, here’s the thing:

Just saying “I don’t know” isn’t enough.

If you stop there, you’re not leading. You’re just admitting ignorance.

The power comes in what you say next.

Those three additional words transform “I don’t know” from a weakness into a strength.

Because now you’re not just admitting you don’t have the answer. You’re committing to getting it.

You’re showing that you’re not paralyzed by uncertainty. You’re not defensive about your limitations. You’re not pretending to know something you don’t.

You’re being honest, and you’re taking responsibility for finding the solution.

And that’s what real leadership looks like.

Why “I Don’t Know, But I’ll Find Out” Is Powerful

Here’s what happens when you say “I don’t know, but I’ll find out”:

1. You build trust.

Your team knows you’re being honest with them. They know you’re not bullshitting. They know they can rely on you to give them straight answers, even when the answer is “I don’t know yet.”

2. You model intellectual humility.

You show your team that it’s okay not to have all the answers. That uncertainty isn’t weakness. That learning is ongoing.

This creates a culture where people feel safe asking questions and admitting when they don’t know something.

3. You demonstrate accountability.

You’re not just throwing up your hands and saying “I don’t know, figure it out yourself.” You’re taking ownership of finding the answer.

This shows your team that you’re committed to solving problems, not just delegating them.

4. You create space for collaboration.

When you admit you don’t know something, you open the door for others to contribute. Someone on your team might have the answer. Or they might have insights that help you find it together.

This builds engagement and ownership across the team.

5. You protect your credibility.

Every time you fake an answer, you risk being wrong. And when you’re wrong, you lose credibility.

When you say “I don’t know, but I’ll find out,” you can’t be wrong. You’re just being honest about the current state of your knowledge.

How to Use “I Don’t Know, But I’ll Find Out” Effectively

Here’s the framework:

Step 1: Admit what you don’t know clearly and directly.

“I don’t know the answer to that.”

No hedging. No deflecting. No jargon.

Just honest acknowledgment.

Step 2: Commit to finding out.

“But I’ll find out.”

Or “But let me look into that and get back to you.”

Or “But that’s a great question, and I’m going to track down the answer.”

Make it clear that you’re taking ownership of getting the information.

Step 3: Set a timeline.

“I’ll have an answer for you by end of day tomorrow.”

Or “Let me check with the engineer and I’ll get back to you this afternoon.”

Don’t leave it open-ended. Give them a timeframe so they know when to expect a response.

Step 4: Follow through.

This is critical. If you say you’ll find out, you have to actually find out.

If you don’t follow through, “I don’t know, but I’ll find out” becomes just another empty promise.

Step 5: Report back, even if the answer is complicated.

When you get the information, share it.

Even if the answer is “It’s more complicated than I thought” or “There are multiple options and here are the trade-offs.”

Your team doesn’t need you to have simple answers. They need you to be honest and thorough.

The Difference Between Humility and Weakness

Some leaders worry that saying “I don’t know” makes them look weak.

It doesn’t. It makes you look honest.

Weakness is pretending to know something you don’t. Weakness is deflecting when you’re uncertain. Weakness is getting defensive when someone asks a question you can’t answer.

Strength is being secure enough in your leadership to admit your limitations.

Humility isn’t about diminishing yourself. It’s about being honest about reality.

And the reality is: Nobody knows everything. The world is too complex.

The leaders who pretend otherwise aren’t strong. They’re insecure.

The leaders who can say “I don’t know, but I’ll find out” are the ones people actually want to follow.

What This Looks Like in Practice

I remember the first time I got hit with a question knocked me flat, and it was given to me by an 8 year old student in my hapkido class:

I admit when I was asked this after almost 2 years of teaching and about 5 years of training on the mat, sometimes being that student that stepped out of line, that question had never occurred to me!

I immediately told the young man, "I don't know but I will find out and tell you."

I asked and learned from one of the 4th-dan instructors that this tradition was to separate the student, from being a part of the class to now, leading the class through the meditation and paying respect to the instructor. Hence stepping out of line.

Here’s another example from my time as a foreman:

We were running conduit in a mechanical room. The plans showed one route, but when we got on site, there was a conflict with some ductwork that wasn’t on the drawings.

One of my guys asked, “How do you want to route this?”

I didn’t know. The situation wasn’t in the plans. I hadn’t encountered this exact scenario before.

Old me—the guy trying to prove he knew everything—would have made something up. Would have given a confident answer even though I was guessing.

But I’d learned better by then.

So I said, “I don’t know. Let me check with the mechanical contractor and the engineer. I’ll have an answer for you by lunch.”

I made the calls. Got the information. Came back with a solution that worked for everyone.

My guy didn’t think less of me for not knowing. He respected that I didn’t bullshit him and that I followed through.

That’s the difference.

The Challenge

Here’s what I want you to do this week:

The next time someone asks you a question you don’t know the answer to, say “I don’t know, but I’ll find out.”

Don’t hedge. Don’t deflect. Don’t make something up.

Just be honest. Then follow through.

Notice what happens.

Notice how your team responds. Notice how it feels to be honest instead of defensive.

Notice how much easier leadership becomes when you stop pretending to be infallible.

The Truth About Leadership

Leadership isn’t about having all the answers.

It’s about being honest about what you know and what you don’t. And taking responsibility for finding out.

The strongest leaders aren’t the ones who never admit uncertainty. They’re the ones who are secure enough to say “I don’t know” and committed enough to say “but I’ll find out.”

That’s the difference between a leader people tolerate and a leader people trust.

Only fools, idiots, and assholes think they know all the answers.

The world is too big. Too complex. Too ever-changing.

The quicker you own up to that simple fact, the easier your life will be. And the more effective your leadership will become.

So here’s my question for you:

What question have you been avoiding because you don’t know the answer? And when are you going to say “I don’t know, but I’ll find out”?