Think Again: The Power of Knowing What You Don't Know

by Adam M. Grant

A good debate is not a war. It’s not even a tug-of-war, where you can drag your opponent to your side if you pull hard enough on the rope. It’s more like a dance that hasn’t been choreographed, negotiated with a partner who has a different set of steps in mind.

The more reasons we put on the table, the easier it is for people to discard the shakiest one.

Most people immediately start with a straw man, poking holes in the weakest version of the other side’s case. He does the reverse: he considers the strongest version of their case, which is known as the steel man.

When I asked one of the Wall Street executives for advice on how to approach debates differently in the future, he suggested expressing less conviction.

Communicating it with some uncertainty signals confident humility, invites curiosity, and leads to a more nuanced discussion.

An antidote to this proclivity is complexifying: showcasing the range of perspectives on a given topic.

A dose of complexity can disrupt overconfidence cycles and spur rethinking cycles.

That’s what this section of the book is about: applying rethinking to different parts of our lives, so that we can keep learning at every stage of our lives.

Psychologists find that people will ignore or even deny the existence of a problem if they’re not fond of the solution.

What works is not perspective-taking but perspective-seeking: actually talking to people to gain insight into the nuances of their views.

For a long time, I believed that we learn more when we’re having fun. This research convinced me I was wrong.

Achieving excellence in school often requires mastering old ways of thinking. Building an influential career demands new ways of thinking.

One student put it eloquently: “I need time for my confusion.” Confusion can be a cue that there’s new territory to be explored or a fresh puzzle to be solved.

A few years ago, leaders at the Gates Foundation reached out to see if I could help them build psychological safety.

psychological safety gave us some starting points. I knew that changing the culture of an entire organization is daunting, while changing the culture of a team is more feasible.

It takes confident humility to admit that we’re a work in progress.

Even if the outcome of a decision is positive, it doesn’t necessarily qualify as a success. If the process was shallow, you were lucky. If the decision process was deep, you can count it as an improvement: you’ve discovered a better practice.

If the outcome is negative, it’s a failure only if the decision process was shallow. If the result was negative but you evaluated the decision thoroughly, you’ve run a smart experiment. The

Requiring proof is an enemy of progress.

“Look, I know we disagree on this but will you gamble with me on it?”

We can’t run experiments in the past; we can only imagine the counterfactual in the present.

When we dedicate ourselves to a plan and it isn’t going as we hoped, our first instinct isn’t usually to rethink it. Instead, we tend to double down and sink more resources in the plan. This pattern is called escalation of commitment.

Early on, he had fallen victim to what psychologists call identity foreclosure—when we settle prematurely on a sense of self without enough due diligence, and close our minds to alternative selves.

they should schedule checkups on their careers. I encourage them to put a reminder in their calendars to ask some key questions twice a year.

When did you form the aspirations you’re currently pursuing, and how have you changed since then?

Deciding to leave a current career path is often easier than identifying a new one.

They weren’t focusing on happiness—they were looking for contribution and connection.

Phase 1: I’m not important Phase 2: I’m important Phase 3: I want to contribute to something important

Careers, relationships, and communities are examples of what scientists call open systems—they’re constantly in flux because they’re not closed off from the environments around them.