Why New Leaders Lose Their Curiosity

I named my business The Curious Leadership because curiosity is the first thing I've watched people lose when they move into a leadership role.

Many leaders wouldn't describe it that way. Perhaps they'd say they've become more decisive, more sure, better at making the call - and they'd be right, which is the problem. The behaviour that gets a new leader praised is often the same behaviour that's closing them down.

Underneath it sits a belief that runs deep in how we picture leadership: that a leader is the smartest person in the room, the one with the answer. It's a flattering idea and a limiting one, because once you accept it, asking a real question starts to feel like admitting you don't belong in the role.


Curiosity is what lets you see the whole system

As an individual contributor, you can see your work clearly. You know what you produced and you can see how it lands - up the chain to the people above you and across to the people beside you. The line of sight is short and the impact is visible.

Leadership doesn't work like that. The complexity around you multiplies, the layers between you and the actual work grow and your decisions carry a ripple effect you can't fully trace. The context you need to make a good call is no longer in front of you. It's spread across people, history and established ways of working you might not have been a part of before. Without curiosity, you make decisions on a fraction of that context and may have no idea how much you've missed.

This is where the pressure on new leaders works against them. Organisations reward decisiveness and we tell people to come in and make their mark inside 90 days. For someone hired from outside, who has never operated in the business before, that's an instruction to guess, assume and override ways of working they haven't understood yet, on the strength of one or two opinions they happened to hear first. We call that decisiveness; more often it's confidence bias and bias can be expensive.

Curiosity about the people around you

Pointed outward, curiosity does more than gather information - it changes what your team is willing to give you.

Consensus tends to produce the most tolerable decision for the largest number of people. The decisions that actually move something usually come from disagreement that's been argued properly, all the way to the point. A curious leader is the one who can draw that out: who asks for the idea that hasn't been said yet and makes the room safe enough to say it. People don't hand you their best thinking because you're the cleverest person present; they offer it when they can see you're genuinely interested in theirs.

It also answers one of the hardest practical problems of stepping up. You become responsible for supporting more people than you could ever spend real time with. Curiosity is how you make the time you do have count. In a one-on-one, asking someone what they've been working on, what's gone well for them lately, what they'd want more of - and actually listening - is what tells them they're seen. For someone working a few layers below you, a real question from their leader, properly heard, goes a long way.

Curiosity about yourself

The hardest place to stay curious is about yourself and it matters more the more senior you get.

Almost no one who steps into leadership believes they have a self-awareness gap. Almost all of them do, because you cannot see yourself the way other people see you.

People around you hear your words differently from how you meant them, they will read your tone and your body language and draw their own conclusions. You will explain something that's completely clear in your own head and one person walks away with the opposite of what you intended. Without any curiosity about how you actually land, you'll keep assuming your version is the only one in the room.

The small, ongoing kind of curiosity

Curiosity in leadership isn't a grand stance or a one-off exercise. It's small and continual - a genuine question in a meeting, a pause before you reach for the answer, an interest in how a decision is sitting with the people who have to live with it. Aimed at the system, at the people around you and at yourself.

It only counts when it's real

The one thing curiosity can't be is performed. A leader can learn the technique - ask the open question, hold back the answer, run the better meeting - and people will still know, almost immediately, whether there's real interest behind it. We’ve all seen it before in a leader.

A question you don't actually care about the answer to is worse than no question at all, because it tells people you've learned the shape of listening without the substance of it and that erodes trust faster than bluntness ever would. Real curiosity is just being honestly interested in what someone else sees, including the parts that don't flatter you or fit the plan you'd already made.

Which is why I've never thought of it as a personality trait, the way it's usually described, something you're either born with or you're not. It's a posture toward not knowing: one you lose under pressure and one you can choose to keep alive, which makes it both harder and more useful than a trait. It's the first thing to go when no one is protecting it, and the hardest to hold onto in exactly the moments it matters most. The leaders who manage it tend to be the ones still genuinely interested in everything they haven't worked out yet, rather than the ones that believe they are armed with the most answers - and in my experience, those are the ones worth following.

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