This morning, my sleep tracker told me I’d only recovered 72% of my energy. So I spent the day under that quiet verdict, second-guessing every yawn. Was I genuinely tired, or did the data decide for me?
We live under the quiet tyranny of measurement: steps counted, hours tracked, sleep scored, attention dissected. It feels like progress: proof that we’re curious enough to check, smart enough to track, disciplined enough to optimise. But what if all this measuring sometimes drowns out the deeper signal: what our own instincts are trying to say?
And what happens to us happens to the places we work too. The same obsession with measuring everything, to feel in control, to be sure, seeps into how companies run.
The corporate flood of knowing
What we do to ourselves, we do to our organisations… only at scale, with bigger budgets and bigger consequences. Most companies today overflow with knowledge: customer research, dashboards brimming with data, market reports, trend forecasts, competitive benchmarks. All of it in the name of curiosity, the instinct to ask, What’s really going on?
Good. Necessary. But also dangerous if it never crosses the bridge from curiosity to motion. Knowledge is meant to spark movement, not replace it. Instead, teams spend months crafting slide decks about what might work, while braver teams learn by putting it in front of customers tomorrow.
Kodak knew the digital wave was coming but analysed it into oblivion. Blockbuster had clear research on streaming yet clung to late fees and shelf space. Nokia’s engineers saw the smartphone era but got tangled in internal debates instead of shipping something people loved. They weren’t incurious: they were paralysed by the idea that more research would save them.
The risk of too many questions
Curiosity is a gift. But curiosity that never leaves the meeting room becomes dead weight. The trick is knowing when a question needs an answer… and when it needs a test.
Yes: if you’re designing a heart valve or building a bridge, keep asking until there’s nothing left to ask. But if you’re writing new copy, tweaking a price, or prototyping a product? Don’t stop being curious, direct that curiosity outward into the world. Put the question in front of a customer and watch what they do. Reality is the ultimate research lab.
Bezos got it right: “If you double the number of experiments you do per year, you’re going to double your inventiveness.” Curiosity fuels the question, but only experiments deliver the answers that matter.
Companies don’t die from ignorance. They die from paralysis
Most companies don’t fail because they’re lazy or clueless. They fail because they overthink themselves into a corner. The danger doesn’t announce itself dramatically. It looks calm, thoughtful, mature. It sounds like:
“Let’s not rush this. We should really test it more.”
“Can we get one more opinion? Maybe another round of feedback?”
“Let’s hold off. I’m not sure we’re ready yet.”
Paralysis feels safe because it wears the mask of being smart. It’s the team in a bright meeting room, nodding around a table stacked with research printouts and slides showing what might happen. Everyone is engaged, thoughtful, polite and nobody notices that nothing is actually moving.
A marketing team spends weeks rewriting a single headline instead of putting two versions live by lunchtime and letting real people decide with their clicks. A product team debates a new feature for months, worrying about edge cases and what-ifs, when a rough prototype could have revealed the answer in days. A manager calls for more research not because they’re curious but because deep down, they’re afraid: What if we launch and look foolish?
This is the trap. The more curious we pretend to be, the safer we feel. It feels responsible to hunt for certainty. It feels mature to wait for perfect information. But perfect never arrives. While we wait, someone braver ships the messy version, learns something real and leapfrogs us before the next meeting is even booked.
Curiosity should be a bridge to the real world, not a moat around it. The best questions are answered out there, not in here. A test is worth more than a thousand slides. A small launch beats a giant plan. But that only happens when someone finally says, “Enough questions. Let’s find out.”
How to act like a curious company
So how do you stay truly curious and courageous enough to move? Here’s how the best teams close the gap between asking questions and putting them to the test:
1. Shrink the bet
Curiosity stays alive when the risk stays small. Big ideas are seductive but they stall. Small tests move. Don’t wait to build the masterpiece: build the version that proves someone wants it.
How to shrink it:
Launch the scrappy version this month, not the perfect version next year.
Build a landing page, not the whole product.
Talk to ten real users instead of theorising for ten weeks.
Remember: Shopify’s first store sold snowboards. Airbnb’s first “hotel” was a living room floor.
2. Test the real assumption
Don’t answer every question, just the one that will unlock the next move. Great teams stay curious about what really matters, not what looks clever in a deck.
How to test smarter:
Ask: What must be true for this to work?
Find the riskiest unknown and tackle that first.
Use demos, mock-ups, or videos before building the real thing.
Dropbox didn’t build file syncing: they showed a video and watched the waitlist grow.
3. Treat mistakes as tuition, not failure
Curiosity means you’re willing to bump into walls. If every attempt must be right, you’ll never try enough to find the breakthrough. The best teams budget for mistakes because they know they’re buying insight.
How to fail well:
Share rough drafts early. Not perfect versions too late.
Celebrate the flop that taught you something useful.
Run pilots that should reveal flaws.
Pixar’s rough storyboards bomb on purpose. The fix happens when it’s cheap.
4. Match the risk to the stakes
Curiosity without judgment is reckless. Great teams stay curious about the cost of being wrong. Some moves need a double-check, others just need a push.
How to balance it:
If the price of failure is huge, plan well and test carefully.
If the cost is small, act fast and adjust on the go.
Don’t use “due diligence” as an excuse for stalling small bets.
Small, early stumbles protect you from giant, late disasters.
5. Trust instinct alongside insight
Curiosity feeds on data, but it lives in people. Numbers guide you but they don’t see the hidden chance your gut might. Some leaps only look obvious after someone is brave enough to jump.
How to listen better:
If your gut says try, check the downside… then try it.
If your team has real conviction, back them to test.
Ask yourself: What does the data miss that my instinct knows?
Many big ideas make no sense until they’re out in the real world.
Curiosity that moves
Curiosity is oxygen. But it’s only useful if you breathe it out into the world. The real magic happens when questions collide with reality. Companies don’t die from asking too many questions. They die from never putting those questions to the test.
So maybe your next meeting could be a launch. Maybe your next strategy deck could be a prototype in a customer’s hands. Maybe your next big question isn’t What more do we need to know?… but What are we brave enough to find out by doing?
What could your team discover if you trusted curiosity enough to move?
Great article and just the food for thought I needed. Love this: "Curiosity is oxygen. But it's only useful if you breathe it out into the world. The real magic happens when questions collide with reality."