The Uncertainty Problem Leaders Won't Admit
Most leadership frameworks are built around the premise that good leaders reduce uncertainty. They forecast, they plan, they communicate confidence. Simone Stolzoff's new book, *How to Not Know: The Value of Uncertainty in a World That Demands Answers*, challenges that premise directly — and the evidence he marshals is harder to dismiss than the usual business-book fare.
Stolzoff is a journalist whose work has appeared in *The New York Times* and *The Atlantic*. His argument isn't that uncertainty is fine. It's that the instinct to eliminate it is both biologically understandable and operationally counterproductive.
Why the Brain Is a Bad Uncertainty Manager
Researchers at University College London ran a study in which one group of participants had a 50% chance of receiving a painful electric shock, and another group had a 100% certainty of receiving one. The certain group was less stressed. The ambiguity itself — not the outcome — was the primary driver of distress.
A separate body of research found that professional uncertainty produces health effects comparable to actually losing a job. These aren't soft findings. They have direct implications for how organizations communicate during restructuring, strategic pivots, or leadership transitions — moments when executives often default to vague reassurance rather than honest framing.
Anchors, Not Answers
Stolzoff's most operationally useful concept is what he calls anchors: the fixed commitments that allow an organization to move through uncertainty without requiring certainty first.
The Airbnb case is instructive. When the pandemic eliminated roughly 80% of the company's business, CEO Brian Chesky didn't build a new forecast. He wrote six principles — including "be decisive," "preserve cash," and "be the hero, not the villain" — and used them as the decision framework for the crisis period. "A principle decision is irrespective of the outcome," Chesky said. That's a meaningful distinction for any operator facing a situation where the outcome genuinely cannot be known.
Sequencing as a Crisis Tool
Stolzoff profiles a crisis management consultant named Meredith who works with organizations after serious incidents. Her method is low-tech and high-leverage: she rolls out butcher paper, lists every outstanding task, and forces the executive team to sequence rather than swarm. The act of externalizing the unknown — moving it from anxious mental loops onto a physical surface — converts paralysis into prioritization.
This is what Stolzoff calls "the next right action," a concept borrowed from Buddhist practice. The operational logic is sound: when the full picture is unavailable, the question isn't *what's the plan* but *what's the next move*.
The Slack Case Study
The book's most striking example is Stuart Butterfield's decision to shut down Glitch, a gaming startup that had raised $17 million, attracted international press coverage, and built tens of thousands of active users — and then pivot to an internal collaboration tool the team had built for themselves. That tool became Slack. Salesforce acquired it for nearly $27 billion.
Butterfield's own account is notable for its honesty: "We discovered our product and opportunity, rather than planning for it." That's not a story about visionary foresight. It's a story about staying operational under uncertainty long enough for the real opportunity to become visible.
What This Means for Leadership Practice
Stolzoff's framework won't satisfy executives who want a prediction model. But it offers something more durable: a set of practices — written principles, externalized task lists, sequenced action, reframed threat perception — that hold up precisely when prediction fails.
The leaders who navigate uncertainty best, the evidence suggests, aren't the ones who project the most confidence. They're the ones who've built the clearest internal architecture for moving without it.