Why “I don’t know” creates better conversations, better decisions, and a better life.
I was teaching a class not long ago when someone asked a question I didn’t have an answer to. It wasn’t obscure or outside my lane. It was simply something I didn’t know. So I said the only honest thing I could: “I don’t know. But I’ll find out.”
I didn’t think much of it. It felt natural, almost routine. But after the session, a woman approached me with a look that was part curiosity, part relief. She said she had never heard anyone in my position say that before. Not in a classroom. Not from someone leading the room. Not from someone who was supposed to know.
Her reaction stayed with me. It made me think about how rarely people hear those three words spoken plainly. How much pressure we feel to perform certainty. How often we pretend to know instead of admitting we’re still learning. And how much energy gets spent defending a position we never needed to take in the first place.
The more I sat with it, the more I realized that “I don’t know” isn’t a gap in competence. It’s a doorway. It opens the room. It lowers the temperature. It invites honesty. It creates space for curiosity to do its work. And it does this in every lane I teach in — interviewing, wellbeing, leadership, everyday communication. It’s the same move wearing different clothes.
It’s a way of being full and steadfast without being rigid or performative. It’s a posture that says, “I’m here. I’m listening. I’m not pretending.” People feel that. They respond to it. They trust it. That moment in the classroom reminded me that these three words carry more power than most people realize. They change the quality of a conversation. They change the quality of a relationship. And if practiced consistently, they change the quality of a life.
What struck me afterward wasn’t just the emotional impact of the moment. It was how perfectly it aligned with what the research has been telling us for years. There is a deep scientific foundation for why “I don’t know” is such a powerful move, and why it works across interviewing, wellbeing, and leadership.
At the center of it is something called epistemic humility — the ability to recognize the limits of what we know. People who practice it make more accurate judgments, listen more openly, and revise their thinking more effectively. They aren’t threatened by new information because they haven’t built their identity around being right. In interviewing, this matters. The moment you believe you already understand the story, you stop hearing the one the person is actually telling.
There is also the matter of cognitive load. Pretending to know something is mentally expensive. It forces the brain to juggle the performance of certainty while trying to process new information. Admitting uncertainty frees up working memory. It allows you to listen more deeply, think more clearly, and respond more authentically. This is as true in a conversation with a witness as it is in a conversation with yourself at two in the morning.
Psychological safety plays a role as well. People learn, collaborate, and take risks more effectively when they feel safe to be uncertain. When someone in authority says “I don’t know,” it signals that this is a space where honesty is allowed. It gives everyone else permission to stop performing and start participating. In wellbeing, this reduces shame. In interviewing, it increases rapport. In leadership, it builds trust.
And then there are the unknown unknowns — the things we don’t even realize we don’t know. The only way to discover them is to stay curious. Certainty closes the door. Curiosity opens it. “I don’t know” is the hinge that keeps that door from slamming shut.
Even motivational interviewing, which is built on evocation rather than authority, assumes that the practitioner does not have all the answers. The skill is in drawing out the other person’s meaning, not imposing your own. “Help me understand” is simply another way of saying “I don’t know yet, but I’m willing to learn.”
All of this research points to the same conclusion. Admitting uncertainty isn’t a soft skill. It’s a cognitive discipline. It’s a psychological strategy. It’s a relational tool. And it’s one of the most reliable ways to reduce bias, increase clarity, and strengthen connection.
When I look back over my career, I can see the moments when “I don’t know” changed the direction of a conversation, a relationship, or even an investigation. Not because the words were dramatic, but because they were honest. They created a pause. They opened a door. They shifted the dynamic from performance to presence.
I didn’t always operate that way. Early in my career, like most people, I felt the pressure to know — to have the answer, to be the expert in the room. It took time to realize that the more tightly I held onto certainty, the more I limited what I could actually learn. The more I tried to appear confident, the more I drifted away from the grounded confidence that comes from being fully present and fully human. I realize, too, where this comes from in most cases: insecurity.
Somewhere along the way, I started noticing that the best conversations I had were the ones where I allowed myself to be curious instead of correct. The ones where I didn’t rush to fill the space. The ones where I admitted what I didn’t know and let the other person help me understand.
That shift didn’t just make me a better interviewer. It made me a better listener. A better teacher. A better partner. A better human. It lowered the internal pressure I had carried for years. It allowed me to be full and steadfast without being rigid. It helped me stay open to the unknown unknowns that shape every interaction, whether we acknowledge them or not.
And that is the bridge between interviewing and wellbeing. It is the same posture in both lanes. In interviewing, “I don’t know” protects you from bias and premature conclusions. In wellbeing, it protects you from the harsh self-judgments that come from believing you should already have everything figured out. In both places, it creates space for curiosity, humility, and growth.
When people ask how to start practicing this, I tell them to begin small. One conversation. One moment. One place where the old instinct to perform certainty rises up. Instead of filling the space, try letting the truth sit there. Try saying, “I’m not sure yet,” or “I need to think about that,” or simply, “I don’t know.” Notice what happens in the room. Notice what happens in you.
Most people are surprised by the relief they feel. The pressure drops. The conversation becomes more honest. The other person often relaxes, because they no longer feel the need to pretend either. What emerges is something steadier, clearer, and far more human.
That is the real power of these three words. They don’t diminish you. They anchor you. They make room for the kind of clarity that only comes when you stop performing and start listening. They create the conditions for better interviewing, better relationships, and a better internal life.
Like much of what I write, training is a first step — the one that moved me beyond my own blind spots, at least some of them. I can provide that training or point you toward providers who teach science-based techniques. Do your research. Find the right fit. Make your training dollar count.
Whether you’re a practitioner or a leader, don’t settle for legacy methods with no empirical foundation. This is not the time to “do it as we’ve always done it.” Leadership carries the same responsibility: to know, apply, and demand standards that maximize your team’s effectiveness and advance your mission.
Anderson Investigative Associates custom-tailors science-based training to meet specific needs. If you’d like to discuss this transition, or any training need, reach out. You’ll also find related topics on interviewing, auditing, and investigations in our other blogs, videos, and instructional blocks.
If you have questions, comments, or an interview topic you’d like me to address, let me know. In the meantime, be well, stay safe, and start investing in a transition that is both ethical and effective. It will elevate everything you do. It’s time to strengthen your interviewing and communication skills, not only in your work, but throughout your life. And if you need help getting started, I know who can help.