We've all been in those meetings. The leader smiles broadly, leans forward, and says, "I want your honest feedback. Don't hold back."
And then... silence.
Not because people have nothing to say. But because they've learned that candor comes with consequences.
The Challenger catastrophe. Boeing's 737 Max disasters. Volkswagen's emissions scandal. Behind each of these catastrophic failures was a chorus of unspoken warnings — people who knew better couldn't or wouldn't speak up. The cost of their silence? Lives, billions of dollars, and a huge hit to institutional trust.

The illusion of open doors

Having an "open door policy" alone can be like installing a suggestion box that everyone knows is emptied directly into the shredder. The gesture itself isn't enough. When we merely invite candor without creating safety, we're asking people to step onto thin ice without assuring them it will hold their weight.

The missing piece: Framing the work

What's often missing is what Amy Edmondson calls "framing the work" — the critical act of establishing context for why candor matters in the first place.
Framing the work means telling your team: "This project is complex and uncertain. None of us has all the answers. Your concerns, questions, and insights aren't just welcome — they're essential to our success. The stakes are too high for silence."
When leaders fail to frame the work, they inadvertently send the message that execution matters more than learning, that certainty is valued over curiosity, and that being right is safer than being honest.

From protection to projection

Amy Edmondson calls this a "culture of courage" — an environment where candid exchanges and interpersonal risks aren't just permitted but expected.
But courage doesn't spontaneously appear in an organization. It's cultivated, deliberately and consistently, by leaders who understand their role as chief culture architects.
Microsoft's transformation under Satya Nadella offers a masterclass in framing the work. Nadella didn't just send a memo asking people to be braver. He reframed Microsoft's challenges as learning problems rather than execution problems. He explicitly acknowledged the company's fallibility and the uncertainty of the tech landscape. And most importantly, he modeled the shift from "know-it-all" to "learn-it-all" in his own behavior, day after day.

The hybrid challenge

In today's hybrid work environments, psychological safety faces new threats. It's easier than ever to hide behind screens, to mute ourselves literally and figuratively. Digital communication strips away the human cues that help us gauge how safe it is to speak up.
This isn't just about preventing disasters. It's about unlocking the full creative potential of our teams. It's about making sure the best idea in the room doesn't stay trapped in someone's head because they're afraid to voice it.

Seven moves for courageous cultures

1. Frame the work deliberately. Begin by acknowledging the complexity and uncertainty of the challenge ahead. Make it explicit that you don't have all the answers, that mistakes will happen, and that speaking up isn't optional—it's essential. Clarify what's at stake if people remain silent. Framing the work sucessfully requires an equal measure of high stakes and high trust. 
2. Trade cleverness for curiosity. The smartest person in the room isn't the one with all the answers. It's the person asking the questions no one else is brave enough to ask. When leaders approach problems with genuine curiosity rather than presumed solutions, they create space for others to contribute.
3. Make failure a feature, not a bug. If every mistake is treated as evidence of incompetence, you'll create a team of people who never try anything new. Normalize experimentation. Celebrate the learning that comes from missteps. Ask "What did we learn?" before "Who's to blame?"
4. Amplify the quiet voices. Not everyone communicates the same way. Some of your most valuable insights may come from people who don't naturally command attention. Create structures that ensure these voices are heard, not just tolerated.
5. Champion loyal dissent. Loyalty isn't agreement; it's commitment to shared goals. The most loyal team members are often those willing to say, "I think we're getting this wrong." Train your team to ask, "What might we be missing here?" before major decisions.
6. Choose truth over comfort. Difficult truths are rarely comfortable, but comfort rarely leads to growth. When someone brings you unwelcome news, your response determines whether others will do the same in the future.
7. Model what matters. You can't create psychological safety for others if you don't embody it yourself. Only secure leaders can make others feel secure. Show your team it's safe to be vulnerable by acknowledging your own fallibility first.

Beyond the title

Leadership isn't about the role you hold. It's about the courage you demonstrate and the context you create.
Every time you frame the work as a learning journey rather than a test of competence, you're leading. Every time you acknowledge your own uncertainty and fallibility, you're creating space for others to do the same. Every time you make it safer for someone else to take a risk, you're creating ripples of courage that extend far beyond your immediate influence.
In a world where silence can be catastrophic, speaking up is more than brave—it's necessary. But first, we need leaders who understand that inviting candor is just the beginning.
The real work is creating environments where people understand why the truth matters, where vulnerability is recognized as strength, and where speaking up isn't just welcome—it's inevitable.