The Collective Brain

Previously I wrote that trust cannot replace judgement. Today I want to explore how judgement is formed collectively.

Most boards are filled with capable, intelligent people. Yet even smart boards sometimes miss important risks, ask too few questions, or move too quickly to consensus. The reason is simple: no individual sees everything.

Well-constructed boards strive for diversity, not out of political correctness, but from an understanding that different backgrounds, perspectives, strengths and deficits are one of the secrets to good decision-making.

Critical thinking requires identifying the issue and understanding the purpose of the exercise. That first step is often the most difficult and it will shape the outcome. But it is a place to start and can be – and should be – revisited.

When we think deeply, we gather relevant information: data, observations and even personal experience. We make assumptions – things we believe are true. Even the best, most disciplined critical thinker has limitations. But when we come together, we amplify the resources available. Assumptions can be tested. Different vantage points broaden the palette. Cultural differences add colour and texture.

Good governance happens when those perspectives are shared, challenged and integrated into better decisions.

But it only happens if they are heard.

When the group seems to agree but you feel like you missed something – when you cannot join the consensus – you have an obligation to say something.

I often refer to this as the innocent question.

Bring your experience to the table. Own it. It is true and valuable, even when it doesn’t feel that way.

The trouble with being surrounded by smart, articulate people is that it is very easy for imposter syndrome to silence you. When everyone is nodding and ready to move on, your question feels ill-informed. So, you stay quiet.

The question that feels too simple to ask is often the question the board most needs to hear.

Sometimes collective wisdom isn’t found in the loudest voice or even the most polished argument. Sometimes it takes the form of expertise. Sometimes it comes from curiosity. Often, it begins with an innocent question.

Drift is a common problem for well-intentioned boards. This question is almost always worth asking:

• Can someone help me align this project with our overall mission?

Board members have personal perspectives that can shape a discussion.

• Have we considered whether this will have more impact on members who shoulder more of the childrearing burden?
• As someone who lives in a rural area, it feels that this decision favours members in large cities.
• As a member of the Asian community, I have to point out that there are some negative connotations in this promotional material.

Personal experience provides an opportunity to explore more deeply.

• Have we considered the risks associated with using AI this way?
• Have we asked our legal team to weigh in on this matter?
• I would like to see a cost-benefit analysis before we finalize the decision.
• I saw this done before and the results were disastrous. What’s changed so that it could work this time?

Curiosity is valuable. “Why?” is almost always a reasonable question.

• I am not sure what problem we are trying to solve.
• The digital solution is elegant, but have we considered whether it will be a barrier to our older members?
• We seem to be making this decision based solely on financial considerations. Is there anything else we should consider?

Personal perspective, rather than deep knowledge, often reshapes a conversation. The question invites an answer or deeper exploration. It is not argumentative or disruptive. It is part of good governance.

When a decision item comes to the board, it has usually been carefully vetted by a committee and prepared by staff. As organizations mature, staff begin to anticipate the types of information the board expects to receive. The mover will often highlight the key points at the beginning of the discussion.

Often, board members have a sense of where the discussion is likely headed before the meeting even begins. In the absence of glaring deficiencies, it is not unusual to hear a few members state an opinion or ask for simple clarifications. Debate is brief and the motion passes or fails right on cue.

None of that is inherently a problem, but it can be a symptom.

Over-reliance on the good work and good will of a committee or staff can become a governance weakness.

All of the work that came before was focused on reaching an outcome. It was good work. Your job is to review the material beforehand and assume the role of an open-minded skeptic.

Jotting down questions and concerns helps prepare you for the discussion. When the item is tabled, listen. Are your questions and concerns addressed? Even when you are in favour of the motion, is this a good time to air that contrarian thought that entered your mind? Maybe there is still one nagging issue that no one has addressed.

Speak it, even if it feels minor.

This might be a good time to revisit the notion of trust and judgement. If you raise what you believe is a critical issue, you might hear:

“I’m sure staff have that under control.”

Or:

“I’m sure the committee considered this.”

Those responses often come from colleagues who hear the question as a challenge to the good work of others. While it may be true that the issue has already been considered, the board deserves reassurance from a reliable source.

Here is an elegant way to avoid your question being interpreted as a challenge:

“I’m sure this has been considered, but I have not heard it specifically addressed.”

Governance is not about being the smartest person in the room. It is about creating an environment where people think together, ask questions and challenge assumptions respectfully. The collective brain only works when people are willing to contribute and equally willing to listen.

That is how better decisions are made.