“Who Came Up With That?”
Gets Weighed Before the Idea.

You ask your team for ideas. Maybe it's a problem that's been going on for weeks, and you want some fresh thinking. Someone offers an idea that's only half worked out. Or it's about a part of the work that isn't their job. And before anyone talks about what it would fix, your team is already weighing who raised it. A look goes around the table. Somebody laughs. Or somebody just asks, "Who came up with that?"

Now think about what everyone watching just learned. They learned how ideas actually get judged on your team. And that's true whether it's a team of five or your own leadership team.

So that's what this episode is about. The answer to "who came up with that?" gets weighed before the idea does.

This is The Autistic Leader. I'm Uday Kiran Bolusani. Each week, I take one piece of advice every leader already gives, and I give you one skill that makes it work for every kind of mind.

So here's the advice. Everyone's heard some version of it. "The best idea wins, no matter who it is from."

Leaders have been giving that advice for decades. And it's a good promise to make. It tells everyone on your team, from your newest hire to your most senior executive, that their idea gets heard whatever their title is. That's why leaders say it.

Let me tell you a story that management books have been telling for decades. It's about a power company whose lines kept icing over. The story gets told a few different ways, and here's one of them.

The person running a session on the problem had insisted on bringing in people from many different jobs. There were linemen, supervisors, accountants and secretaries.

One lineman made a joke. What if you train bears to climb the poles and shake the ice off? The room laughed. People listed reasons it was silly. And some of the comments were about the lineman who said it.

Then someone suggested putting honey pots on top of the poles, to get the bears to climb up. More laughs. A senior lineman, with some sarcasm, suggested borrowing the executives' helicopters to put the pots up there. And the room laughed again.

Then a secretary spoke for the first time. She asked a question. Would the wind from a helicopter, flown low over the lines, shake them enough to knock the ice off? And this time, the room went quiet.

So what does that story show? People in different jobs notice different things about the same problem. So do people whose minds work differently. And the answer came from the person the room least expected. So the advice matters, and you should keep giving it.

But look at the other part of the story. The same room that went quiet for her question had made comments about the lineman with the bear idea. Teams judge the person who raised an idea, while they believe they're judging the idea.

Now think about what the story leaves out. In the story, nobody says who will decide how to keep the ice off the lines, or what an idea will be judged on. When nobody says those two things, an unwritten rule fills that space. That rule is that an idea should show up finished, and it should come from someone who does that kind of work.

So how does anybody on your team learn that rule?

Some catch it in the moment, from a reaction like the laughter at the bear idea. Others piece it together over many meetings, by noticing which ideas got laughed off.

Either way, they're now spending effort predicting how their idea will be judged. That effort is what's called cognitive load, the mental work a task takes. Here it goes to something besides the problem itself, and none of it goes into making their idea better.

So what does that cost your team? Someone with a half-finished idea may bring it late. Or they may trim it down until it looks finished. Someone whose idea's about another team's work may never bring it at all. The late idea, the trimmed idea and the idea that never comes are exactly the ones the advice was meant to bring in. So when your team decides, it's missing the thinking you hired those people for.

So here's the skill. It's gonna sound simple, and it's two steps.

The first step happens before anyone shares an idea. You pick the person who's going to decide. Pick someone who isn't pitching an idea of their own. And if you've got an idea yourself, pick someone else. Then that person makes the call on which idea your team tries.

The second step is two sentences. You add them to the message where you ask for ideas. Or you say them out loud as the meeting starts. The first sentence says who's deciding. The second sentence says what every idea will be judged on. And that comes down to two questions. What would it fix? And how could you test it?

Here's how those two sentences sound if the ice from the story were your team's problem this week. "Our field supervisor will decide how we keep ice off the lines, and she is not pitching any idea of her own. She will judge every idea, finished or not, on what it would fix and how we could test it."

Listen to two parts of what she said. She said "every idea," so an idea about work outside your own job counts too. And she said "finished or not," so nobody has to finish an idea before they bring it.

And you're like, okay, but some ideas really aren't ready. And sometimes that's true. The person deciding will see that too. But an idea that isn't finished can still fix something real. And nobody at the table has to size up whether the person who raised it knows what they're doing.

Let's try it on two more teams.

Say you're the principal of a middle school. Every morning, the drop-off line backs up into the street. You've got an idea of your own about it, so you ask your vice principal to decide. Then you email your staff for ideas, and you put the two sentences in that email. "Our vice principal will decide how we fix the drop-off line, and he isn't pitching an idea of his own. He'll judge every idea, finished or not, on what it would fix and how we could test it."

A few people write back. One of them is a cook in the cafeteria, who can see that line from the kitchen every morning. The cook's idea is, what if breakfast opened fifteen minutes earlier, so some families come before the rush?

It's half an idea. Nobody's worked out yet who'd watch the kids that early. And drop-off isn't the cook's job. Without those two sentences, you know how that one would go, right?

This time, your vice principal asks the two questions. What would it fix? If some families come early, fewer cars show up at once, so the line might stop reaching the street. How could we test it? Open breakfast early for two weeks, put one teacher on duty, and watch how far back the line goes each morning.

Look at what happened to that question about who'd watch the kids. It became part of the test. That's what your vice principal decides to run, a two-week test.

Now a different kind of team. Say you manage a grocery store downtown, and at lunchtime the checkout lines back up into the aisles. You pick your operations manager to decide. And at the start of your next team huddle, you say, "Our operations manager will decide how we shorten the lunch lines, and he isn't pitching an idea of his own. He'll judge every idea, finished or not, on what it would fix and how we could test it."

One of your stockers, who's never worked a register, has an idea. A lot of the lunch crowd buys just a sandwich and a drink. What if those people had their own register, right next to the sandwich case? The stocker hasn't worked out who would run it, or whether there's room for it.

Your operations manager weighs the stocker's idea the same way. What would it fix? The wait for people holding two things, stuck behind full carts. How could you test it? He picks next Tuesday, and he opens one register by the sandwich case for the lunch hour, just for the people with two items or fewer.

Now try it on your own team. Think about the next time you'll ask for ideas. Maybe it's a message you're sending this week, or a meeting that's already on your calendar. Who would you name to decide? Someone who isn't pitching an idea of their own. Now say your first sentence. Who's deciding, and what they're deciding. Then your second sentence. Every idea, finished or not, gets judged on what it would fix and how you could test it.

Naming who decides before any ideas come in, that comes from my Decision Charter. It's my framework for who does which part of a decision. In it, whoever decides is someone who hears every idea and isn't pitching any of them.

And here's where AI comes in. When the ideas come in writing, take the names off first. Then AI can restate each idea in plain words, and list the questions each one still leaves open. You ask it not to rank them or pick one. Then your vice principal, or whoever you named, reads each idea without knowing who raised it. And that person still decides which idea your team tries.

Letting AI lay out the ideas while a person decides, that comes from my AI Cognitive Strategy Matrix. It's my framework for which parts of the work AI can take on, and which your people keep for judgment.

So what changes on your team? The cafeteria idea gets heard in the first week, while it can still help. The question about who'd watch the kids becomes part of the test. And sometimes that half-finished idea is the one your team ends up using.

There's an essay that goes with this episode, and it ends on a card I call the Operating Brief. The card has four parts.

The moment. You ask for ideas, and someone brings one that isn't finished, or that's about another team's work. Your team weighs who raised it along with the idea, and everyone watching learns how ideas get judged.

The inherited design. That's the advice, "The best idea wins, no matter who it is from." Leaders say it because they want ideas from every job and every kind of mind. When nobody says who decides, or what ideas are judged on, people spend their effort guessing at an unwritten rule.

Then the redesign. The decision goes to someone who isn't pitching an idea, and you tell everyone up front that every idea gets the same two questions, whoever brought it.

And the Monday test, the one thing to do this week. In your next request for ideas, name who will decide, someone who isn't pitching an idea of their own. And say that every idea, finished or not, will be judged on what it would fix and how you could test it.

The essay also prints the prompt for that AI step, so you don't have to write it. Take the names, titles and teams off the ideas. Then paste the prompt into Claude, or the AI your organization has approved for work, with the question your team is deciding, the job title of whoever will decide it, and the ideas. For each idea, it says what it would fix and the quickest way to test it. It counts no gap against an unfinished idea, and it leaves the choice to the person you named.

The essay's on my site, under the title "Teams That Believe 'The Best Idea Wins' Still Judge the Person Before the Idea." The two sentences are printed there, filled in, so you can copy them into your own request for ideas. You'll see a drawing of the meeting from the story, and a second drawing of the same meeting, with the field supervisor named to decide and no names on the ideas. The Operating Brief is there as a card you can share with your team. And the prompt's printed in full, so you can copy it instead of typing it out.

Here's my ask. I built this show to help leaders who think differently reach senior roles, by changing how organizations are designed. Every person who subscribes is one more leader this work reaches, every week. So subscribe to the Substack, and take each week's skill to your team. And if you'd like, follow the show wherever you're listening.

So in your next request for ideas, name who's deciding before anyone answers, and say what every idea will be judged on.