Buddha In the Boardroom: Not Knowing is most Intimate
It’s a tough sell to try to convince a businessperson that he or she might be better off knowing less; an even tougher task to get them to try knowing nothing for an hour or two.
After all they got where they are by acquiring knowledge – knowledge of their industry, the politics, the corporate structure, who to listen to and who to mistrust. Without their knowledge they’re vulnerable. They’re on a foggy moor without any discernible landmarks or up a creek without a paddle – drifting wherever the current takes them.
And that’s kind of the point.
A Buddhist koan reminds us that “not knowing is most intimate.”
What does this mean?
Let’s say you’re on a plane and suddenly the lights go out and the cabin fills with smoke. You realize you don’t know where the exit is. Suddenly, someone grabs your elbow and says “Quick, I know where the emergency exit is.” You’d be an idiot to shrug him off and tell him that you prefer not to know, thank you very much. You’ll just find your own way out. That kind of knowing is useful and practical.
But let’s flash back to when you got on the plane. If you’re nervous about flying you may have sized up the people around you. Maybe you dismissed the skinny kid with the headphones on as being useless in an emergency; you discounted the older guy already asleep with his mouth open. On the other hand, you got a good feeling about the guy in the suit with the briefcase. You formed opinions about all three based on your belief systems. Are you sure, now, that you know which one just grabbed your arm and offered to save your life? It’s this kind of “knowing”, the kind that formed those belief systems and that you mistakenly rely on as Reality, that we’re talking about.
The kind of knowing that his koan refers to is not the kind of knowing where you acquire a learned skill. No-one would suggest that not knowing how to drive a car is a good thing if you’re planning on getting behind the wheel and jumping on the freeway.
On the other hand, if, after passing your driver’s test, you decide that you really know how to drive better than most, that opens the door to judgment and comparison with others. Judgment and comparison are the opposite of intimacy. They also remove you from Reality, so that you’re acting on what’s in your head at any given time, rather than what you see in front of you.
The word “decision” comes from the Latin. It means to cut off at the root. That’s also what we do when we form opinions. We cut off all other options. Our experience and opinions and expectations grow, calcify is actually a better word, into belief systems.
Sometimes this can come in very handy. When we create a belief system we’re actually writing shorthand for our brain. We simply don’t have time to size up every situation and formulate an action plan on the spot so we carry belief systems with us for handy reference so that we can use them as a basis for action.
But belief systems can also be dangerous because they can close us off to possibility and serendipity. We’re not just writing shorthand, we’re also writing code for our computer of a brain. Like a computer, our brain will continue to use the same code over and over, without reference to what else is going on in the world, until we re-write it.
When you believe you know something, you point yourself in a particular direction. If you’re facing in that direction you can’t see behind you and you can’t see to either side of you – unless you turn to take in another perspective. Your reality therefore becomes what’s in front of you.
Why narrow your field of vision?
When you believe you “know” you also miss the present. Knowing is a static state. It’s rooted in the past and is closed – not open. Not knowing is a state of openness. You look around and take in all information without pre- judgment or labeling. You still process it into a plan of action. But you realize that maybe on another day with different circumstances your actions may have been different.
If you’re the expert and you have information and experience to share then, ok, be the expert. But also be aware how that status affects you and others. There is a subject/object relationship between you and the non-expert. There is a distance and a delineation of roles.
Knowing is exclusive. Not knowing is inclusive.
So how could you re-write your code of knowing?
How many times have you gone into a meeting with a preconception of who’s going to contribute fresh ideas and who’s going to sit and nod quietly? What if your expectations were a self-fulfilling prophesy? What if the quiet guy had great ideas but was afraid to speak out? No-one ever gave him an opening to speak because everybody “knew” he was a dud. What if you left your expectations at the door and went into the meeting inviting input from all? You would bring possibility into the room with you; a fine thing to have on hand at any business meeting.
What if you didn’t know the answer to a question; the solution to a problem; the right way to do things? Wouldn’t that invite collaboration and creativity? Wouldn’t it leave room for the unexpected to make an appearance?
What if you took an hour or two out of your day and didn’t know? How about if you dropped your thoughts, biases and agendas and just looked and listened? But don’t think about what you’re seeing and hearing; just see and hear. You might be surprised at what you notice.
See without thinking.
Look without judging.
Know without knowing.
Not knowing is most intimate.