I know, everyone is talking about uncertainty right now - again. And that’s understandable as there is plenty of it about: tariffs, shifting trade dynamics, economic turbulence, not to mention the various conflicts and environmental issues that have briefly moved out of the immediate media spotlight but haven't gone away.
We’ve discussed before how human beings are almost hard-wired to REALLY DISLIKE uncertainty. When uncertain, we go to great lengths to feel grounded again, and it's so much the better if we don’t need to alter our existing mental models of how the world works, or how we believe it should work. As individuals or business leaders, our instinct might naturally be to seek certainty, because certainty gives us a comforting sense that things are predictable, stable, and manageable.
But while we strive to reduce uncertainty, could the opposite state - certainty itself - sometimes be our greatest hidden risk?
Certainty feels good. It helps us sleep better at night, reassure our teams, customers, and other stakeholders, and make confident decisions. Our certainty becomes their certainty, and significant decisions are often made based on it.
Yet there are many examples of companies whose certainty was dangerously misplaced. Kodak and Blockbuster are 2 well-known ones. Their extreme certainty in their business models left them blind to the disruptive changes unfolding around them. They had absolute clarity - unquestioned certainty - about their customers and markets. They relied heavily on past successes, reinforcing their fixed assumptions about their future. It cost them dearly.
I often hear the analogy that current market, economic, and political dynamics are like storms at sea. While the waves and swell on the surface can cause significant damage, the deeper nature of the sea remains unchanged. But is this analogy just an expression of our tendency to optimism bias; the comforting belief that everything will ultimately revert to normal?
In reality, we know that what happens on the surface of the sea can indeed impact deeper layers, even reshaping the ocean floor. Such fundamental shifts would alter the ocean’s overall nature and behaviour. Perhaps the storms we face in the business environment today aren’t just passing surface disturbances after all.
So, on the one hand, short-term crises tend to push us into reactive thinking and immediate survival mode, as we urgently, and quite rightly, respond to uncertainty. In this mindset, it’s easy to lose sight of strategic, long-term perspectives. On the other hand, seeking excessive certainty, particularly when it’s driven by well-entrenched mental models or ingrained assumptions, becomes equally dangerous. It can blind us, lead to complacency and tunnel vision, and obscure emerging threats and opportunities alike. We act based on our mental models, those cognitive shortcuts we use daily to understand the world and so simplify decision-making. Mental models are both essential and risky. Essential, because without them, every decision would feel overwhelming. Risky, because they reinforce biases and assumptions, creating rigidity precisely when agility is required.
Therefore, in these ongoing uncertain times, the key isn’t chasing absolute certainty but nurturing adaptable confidence; a willingness to revisit and challenge our mental models regularly and perhaps frequently ask ourselves: “What am I assuming that may no longer be true?”, and "Am I still using yesterday's logic?"
Businesses that thrive in uncertainty aren’t those that have all the answers. They’re the ones that stay curious, question their certainties, learn faster than the competition, and build cultures flexible enough to pivot quickly when necessary.
So perhaps, amid all this uncertainty, our goal shouldn’t be certainty itself but rather the willingness and openness to constantly test and refine how we see the world. Certainty, ironically, may indeed be the riskiest state of all.
Ad Futurum
Graham
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