Three reasons to never take my advice. Ever.
"My advice to you is..." If you hear me start a sentence with that phrase, I give you permission to hit me over the head.
We all look for “advice.” This is a universal truth. Governments have special advisors; cabinets are considered the advisors for the Prime Ministers and Presidents of the world. Business leaders set up “advisory councils” to guide and recommend future actions. We go to churches and pray for some sign from the heavens to tell us what to do and read patterns in tea leaves for the same reason.
Today, through every form of media—from books and Substack newsletters to Medium blogs, YouTube videos, and Twitch livestreams—you are bombarded with advice. Everyone around us, from our manager and our partner to a random YouTuber, obviously knows what we should do better. According to Custom Marketing Insights, the Global Self-Improvement market is a ridiculous size of some 40+ billion dollars and, according to them—if you can believe it—is set to grow to $90 billion by 2033.
That’s a lot of zeroes.
Everyone is willing to give us advice on how we should be better at work, life, and everything in between. Yes, the business of how to do business is actually probably more lucrative than the business you have created. It is far easier to run courses, for example, on how to create a good game than to actually create a good game, and, as I am recently finding out, to write good fiction.
I’m going to buck the trend. Don’t listen to my advice. Ever. And I will give you three reasons why you shouldn’t. They may be universal reasons, but that’s up to you. This is just my story; what you take from it is up to you.
Reason 1: I cannot see inside your head
One of the challenges of communication is that we are all trapped, as David Eagleman puts it, inside our own three-pound universe. Between our ears are all the models of the world that we have created and by which we set about our daily work. You and I are obviously neurologically unique. I am hyperphantasic; you might be aphantasic. You may dream in colour; I may dream in black and white. Your mind may be wired for maps; mine may be wired for landmarks.
When someone asks me for a piece of advice, I will likely interpret the question and the situation differently than what you might intend. For example, say you ask me for guidance on “how to improve your work habits.” The problem is that in order for me to even begin to give you guidance adequately, I would need to understand your context, how you see work habits, how you see and experience the world, and more. Without all of this, I can only answer from my own context, which, no matter how hard you try, you cannot replicate.
Reason 2: I have been wrong more times than you can imagine, and I can’t remember why
Many times we reach out to people we admire or people who have done the same thing we want to do. The expectation is that they will be able to steer us in the right direction and reduce the possibility of failure. These are all true, and we absolutely should be listening to people’s stories and experiences. Through experiences, we can come up with new ways of tackling old problems and certainly avoid common, or even rare, pitfalls.
However, if you ask me for guidance directly, it is likely that I will impose my own story on top of yours. As humans, we are very good at forgetting much of how we came to a certain position or solution. We are very good at creating our own histories and stories that put us in a better light than we would otherwise be. Personally, I am very skeptical of anyone who has been successful telling me what I should do, mainly because I know in my own past I have simply forgotten all the important little details that actually mattered.
For example, if someone were to ask me today how we managed to get Empire Avenue to as many people as we did with no budget, I know that I have forgotten all the small details and the people that made it work. My guidance on that topic is therefore flawed and comes from contexts that likely no longer matter.
Reason 3: You do not know my motivations for the advice
We all have an agenda. Sometimes the agenda is as clear as day. If you are my direct report and ask me for my guidance on something esoteric, it is likely that I will answer with some form of agenda which is inferred from our managerial relationship, the company we both work for, and the different goals you and I are under to get something achieved.
Beyond agendas, there are biases. These biases may seem to be set in fact and appear objective, but if you dig deeper, they could be irrational. My guidance might be coloured by biases such as affinity, attribution, confirmation, blind spots, overconfidence, underconfidence, different fallacies, and way more than I can list. These are biases I may not even be able to explain to you or even realize, and they may be deeply hidden in my psyche.
When I ask for a piece of advice, often the answers I receive tell me more about the person giving the advice than what I should do as guidance.
So what does this mean?
A lot of times, instead of advice, what I typically need to do is reframe the question. Instead of asking, “Can you give me advice on whether I should attend this event?” I have often reframed that to, “Can you tell me what I might be able to bring to this event?” This allows me to think about how those answers might change my future participation. Instead of asking, “Can you give me advice on how to deal with person X?” I have instead asked, “What do you see in person X in this kind of situation?” Often that has given me new insight that has helped me work with someone to try and discover new solutions.
Recently, I had need for what I thought was advice, and I reached out to a large group of mentors that I am lucky to have. True to form, many of those who mentor me do not give me advice. In fact, to a person, they said, “If you are asking me these questions, you already have the answers.” A couple of folks proceeded to engage me as I often tell people to do with me. They questioned me and worked with me to solve my specific problems. In other words, they offered less guidance and more creative solutions by working together. This way we both get to experience what the other has inside their head and the experiences and desires that have led us here.
No, please. Don’t take my advice. Ever.
You are already more capable and have more answers than you think. Instead, approach me on how we can work together to discover better, more innovative answers than the shallow advice that fits in this or any other hypocritical listicle.