Skip to content
Part VI · Quiet Leadership

Essay 03 of 06

When Your Decision Was Wrong

7 min read
A map and compass with a thread marking a change of direction.

Listen to this essay

8:46 · English

You make a decision, other people begin working from it, and later something becomes clear.

The assumption was wrong. The warning deserved more attention. The time you said would be enough was never really available.

By then, the decision has travelled beyond the conversation in which you made it. Someone has changed a plan. Someone has promised something to another person. Someone may have spent several days trying to make your judgment work.

There is a personal difficulty in admitting that I got something wrong. There is also a practical responsibility to the people who now have to live with the result.

I think leadership becomes particularly visible at that point. What do I do with the authority that helped the mistake travel?

In Quiet Leadership: Knowing When to Listen and Lead, I wrote about deciding without pretending to have certainty. That responsibility continues when the decision needs to change.

A poor outcome and a poor decision are not always the same

I want to be careful about judging a choice only by what happened afterwards.

A reasonable decision can meet an event nobody could have predicted. A careless one can turn out well because somebody quietly compensates for it. The result matters, but it does not explain the quality of the judgment by itself.

Before deciding what I need to own, I would ask what was knowable at the time.

Did I seek information from the people closest to the work? Did I notice uncertainty and leave room for it? Did I make an assumption sound like an established fact?

There may be a difference between choosing reasonably under uncertainty and dismissing a concern because I wanted the plan to be easier.

That distinction should help us learn. It should not delay responding to the consequences. Even if the original choice was reasonable, people may still need a different plan now.

I can explain the basis for my earlier decision while taking responsibility for changing what no longer works.

I need to say which part was mine

Shared work gives us many accurate reasons to use the word “we.”

We discussed the options. We gathered information. We have a problem to solve.

But “we decided” can become less accurate when I was the person who made the final call, particularly if others raised concerns.

I do not want a collective pronoun to spread responsibility more evenly after it has already concentrated authority in me.

Suppose I chose a deadline against someone’s advice. Saying that “we underestimated the work” may leave that person carrying an error they tried to prevent.

I can be more precise: I set the date using an estimate that was too optimistic. The concern was raised, and I did not give it enough weight.

That is a description of a decision. It does not require a speech about my character. It gives the people affected a clearer account of what happened, including where their contribution was different from mine.

Precision matters in the other direction too. I do not need to claim responsibility for every problem around me. Taking ownership becomes useful when it is accurate enough to guide the repair.

The correction has to reach the people using the old decision

I may tell one person privately that I have changed my mind and feel that I have acknowledged the mistake.

Meanwhile, three other people are still acting on the original instruction.

A decision creates a practical audience. Anyone relying on it needs enough information to know what has changed and what they should do now.

That might mean correcting a shared plan, telling the person who made a promise on my behalf or clarifying that work should stop while an assumption is checked.

If somebody’s reputation was affected, the correction may need to reach the people who received the wrong impression. If private details are involved, those details still deserve care. Repair does not require making everything public.

I wrote about the relationship between the audience and the harm in Why a Sincere Apology Can Still Feel Unheard. In a shared decision, there is an additional question: where is the old instruction still producing consequences?

An honest conversation with me is helpful. An updated plan may be what allows someone else to stop doing the wrong work tomorrow.

My embarrassment should not become another assignment

Admitting a mistake can leave me wanting reassurance.

I may want people to say it was understandable, that anyone could have done the same thing, that they still trust me.

Those hopes are human. They can also become burdensome when the people hearing them depend on my decisions.

If I keep returning to how badly I feel, someone who already has extra work may now feel required to look after my confidence as well.

A long apology can take up the space where their questions need to go.

I want to acknowledge what happened plainly and remain available to hear its effect. I can process the more personal discomfort elsewhere. The people affected should be able to describe the cost without first reassuring me that I am still a good person.

There may be no immediate warmth in their response. They may simply need the next decision to be clearer. That is information I should be able to receive.

Repair includes deciding what can stop

It is possible to announce a new direction while leaving every old expectation in place.

The team is told to correct the mistake, keep the original deadline and continue all the other work. My decision changes. Their capacity is treated as though it has not.

That does not seem like complete ownership to me.

If the correction requires time, I need to help decide where that time will come from. What can be delayed? What can be reduced? Which promise needs renegotiating, and who should have that conversation?

Sometimes the answer involves an uncomfortable trade-off. We may need to deliver less, disappoint someone or accept that work has been wasted. There may be no version in which everyone is satisfied.

I would rather make that cost visible than ask people to hide it in their evenings.

I also need to resist a different temptation: taking over every part of the correction because I want to prove my commitment. The people closest to the work may still be the best people to shape the practical response. My responsibility is to provide the decisions and support they need, including removing expectations that no longer fit.

Giving up every decision can leave others with the problem

After getting something wrong, I might become reluctant to take another position.

I defer everything. I ask for agreement from everyone. I say I trust the team to decide, even when the decision involves resources or commitments they cannot control.

That can look humble while leaving the uncertainty in the wrong place.

Listening more carefully is useful. Handing others a responsibility without the authority to carry it is a different thing.

I want to make the next decision with better information and clearer limits. I can say what remains uncertain. I can identify what would cause us to reconsider. I can invite someone to challenge a specific assumption before we commit.

Then, where the choice is mine, I still need to make it.

This is connected to helping a team without taking over. Support involves being clear about which decisions belong to whom. That clarity matters after a mistake as much as it did before one.

The next warning matters

A useful review should leave something different in the way the next decision is made.

Perhaps a person who understands the work is included earlier. Perhaps an estimate is labelled as an estimate. Perhaps we agree to check a particular assumption before continuing past a certain point.

I would look for a change close to what actually failed. Adding a large approval process to a small error can create another problem while making the response look serious.

There is also a simpler test that arrives in conversation.

The next time someone tells me the plan may be wrong, what happens to their place in the room?

Do I ask what they have noticed? Do I examine the concern while there is still time to act? Or do I make them work through my defensiveness before their information becomes usable?

I cannot promise that every warning will be correct. I can try to make it possible to bring one without needing certainty first.

Trust after a wrong decision will have to develop through these ordinary encounters. A clear acknowledgment matters. So do the revised plan, the work we actually stop and the concern we hear earlier next time.

I want people to know where my judgment ended and a new understanding began. They should be able to find that change in the decisions they are working from, without having to guess whether I am ready to admit it.

Continue the thought

When the Decision Is Not Yours, but the Team Is

Sometimes I have to stand in front of somebody who trusts me while knowing I cannot give them the answer they want.

Letters from Kamil Larsson

Get the next essay

New essays and occasional notes, sent when there’s something worth sharing.

Your inbox, respected. No selling your address. No open tracking.