Blog

The Pitfalls of Wanting to Know Everything

Everyone is always in meetings. Everyone is terribly busy, or at least pretends to be. If you haven’t attended countless corporate events, you’re not really part of the crowd. And if you’re not working on your tenth professional development course, you’ve already lost your chance.Alle sind immer in Meetings. Alle sind fürchterlich beschäftigt, oder tun zumindest so. Wer nicht an zig Firmenevents teilgenommen hat, gehört nicht dazu. Und wer nicht seine zehnte Weiterbildung macht, der hat ohnehin keine Chance mehr.

But why do we put ourselves through all this?

Perhaps because, deep down, we still adhere to a belief that has shaped our working world for decades: knowledge is power. At the same time, we are beginning to sense that this equation no longer holds true without exception. In a world where artificial intelligence makes information available in a fraction of a second, knowledge in itself is becoming less important. If I can access whatever information I need at any time, why do we still need all those layers of hierarchy, committees and working groups whose primary purpose is to gather, share and safeguard knowledge?

An uncomfortable question arises: What remains of traditional leadership when knowledge is no longer the decisive source of power?

Perhaps this explains part of our collective obsession with staying busy. We keep ourselves occupied to demonstrate our value. After all, anyone who doesn’t appear to have enough on their plate might eventually be considered dispensable. Being busy becomes proof of one’s own relevance—and activity is mistaken for effectiveness.

Often, we are driven by the fear of missing out. Fear of Missing Out, or FOMO, has long been more than just a buzzword. It describes a phenomenon that also shapes the corporate world: we want to be everywhere, know everything that is going on and avoid missing any information. The consequences are predictable. Our brains are constantly running at full speed, people become exhausted, organisations lose their focus, and an entire society threatens to burn itself out through its own busyness.

Things become particularly absurd when we project our own needs onto others. Because I want to know everything, I expect everyone else to do the same. So I invite as many people as possible to as many meetings as possible—regardless of whether their presence is actually necessary. Afraid of missing something, they attend. In the end, everyone sits in the same room, hears the same information and collectively loses the time they need to do their actual work.

All too often, we organise ourselves to know as much as possible about one another rather than to achieve as much as possible together.

What if we stopped trying to know everything? Some people are specifically tasked with developing expertise in particular areas. There are specialists we can trust. And there is artificial intelligence, which makes accessing information considerably easier. Not every question requires a committee, not every uncertainty calls for another round of consultations, and not every decision needs to be safeguarded a hundred times over.

Paradoxically, more knowledge often leads to less independence. The more information we gather, the more uncertain we become. Sometimes, our desire to hand over responsibility—to committees, political parties and others—grows accordingly. This creates a striking contradiction: we have access to ever more information, yet we do not necessarily accumulate more firsthand experience. And while our knowledge grows, our ability to judge and act independently diminishes.

The philosopher Rüdiger Safranski captures this idea in his book Die vierte Kränkung (The Fourth Humiliation): “Wisdom is the realisation that there is no such thing as perfection.” He warns against failing to acknowledge our own imperfections and susceptibility to error, and instead relying on tools that promise perfection but ultimately undermine our own capacity to act.

For leaders in particular, this offers a crucial insight: good leadership does not mean knowing everything, being everywhere or safeguarding every decision. It means distinguishing between what is relevant and what is not, fostering trust, creating psychological safety, tolerating uncertainty oneself and leaving responsibility where it belongs.

Effective leadership in uncertain times therefore does not begin with a new tool, another professional development course or an additional meeting. Perhaps it begins with the courage to leave something out. Here is my suggestion: for one week, deliberately cancel one meeting—with no replacement. Not to get even more done in less time, but to create space again: for focused thinking, independent decision-making and genuine conversations with one another.

The future of leadership does not lie in knowing more and more. It lies in recognising what truly matters—and having the courage to act accordingly.

Let’s give it a try. We have nothing to lose.