August 2026 · Quiet Strength
The Most Expensive Three Words I Ever Said
“I don’t know” is not the problem.
Stopping there is.
A story about a 2007 meeting, a scar carried for years, and why the real lesson was never about the three words themselves.
There are moments in every career that leave a mark.
Some become defining successes. Others become scars that quietly shape the way we lead for years to come. Looking back, one of those moments for me occurred in 2007.
At the time, I was leading procurement for a major business category at Henkel. The company was undergoing one of the most significant transformations in its history. AlixPartners had been brought in to redesign the organization from the ground up. Global reporting structures were changing, responsibilities were shifting, and expectations were higher than ever. It was an environment where every decision seemed to carry greater weight than the one before it.
One afternoon I was called into a meeting with our Chief Procurement Officer to discuss the forecast for tallow prices in the 2008 budget.
For most people, tallow is an unfamiliar commodity. In our industry, it was anything but ordinary. Supply was finite. Demand was influenced by factors well beyond our control. Relationships with suppliers had been built over years, sometimes decades. This was not a market where you could simply threaten to take your business elsewhere if you didn’t like the answer.
As the discussion turned to pricing, the CPO asked me where the market was headed.
I answered honestly.
“I don’t know.”
His response came immediately.
“I don’t know is not now, nor will it ever be, an acceptable answer.”
The meeting deteriorated from there. At one point, his advice was to tell the supplier to “go to hell.”
I remember sitting there thinking that the statement revealed a complete misunderstanding of the market dynamics we were managing. When supply is constrained and relationships are essential, arrogance is not a negotiating strategy. You cannot bully your way into material that simply does not exist.
I left that meeting angry—probably angrier than I had ever been in a corporate setting.
Not because I had been challenged. Leaders should be challenged.
I was angry because expertise had been dismissed in favor of certainty.
The Wrong Lesson
For years afterward, however, I carried away the wrong lesson.
The scar from that meeting wasn’t about commodity markets or executive personalities. It was three simple words.
“I don’t know.”
I stopped saying them.
In fact, I shared that story with members of my own teams over the years. I warned them about using those words because I never wanted them to experience what I had experienced.
Looking back, I realize I unintentionally passed along my scar instead of my lesson.
Experience has a way of correcting us—if we’re willing to let it.
What I Believe Now
Today, I believe something very different.
There are absolutely times when “I don’t know” is the right answer.
In fact, pretending to know something you don’t is far more dangerous than admitting uncertainty.
The problem was never the first three words.
The problem was stopping there.
A better answer would have been:
“I don’t know today, but I’ll find out. Here’s how I’ll get the answer, and I’ll come back with a recommendation.”
That response communicates something far more important than certainty.
It communicates ownership.
Leaders are not expected to possess every answer.
They are expected to pursue the right answer with discipline, curiosity, and integrity.
Over the course of my career, I learned that confidence doesn’t come from always having an answer. Confidence comes from knowing you can navigate uncertainty without pretending it doesn’t exist.
That realization changed the way I led.
When someone on my team admitted they didn’t know something, I became far less interested in the admission than in what came next.
- What resources would they use?
- Who would they ask?
- What assumptions needed to be tested?
- When would they report back?
Those questions transformed uncertainty into action.
That is where leadership begins.
Quiet Strength
The title of this Insight is Quiet Strength, and perhaps this story explains why.
Quiet strength is not projecting certainty you don’t possess.
It is remaining calm enough to acknowledge uncertainty while having the confidence to pursue the truth.
There is remarkable strength in saying:
“I don’t know…”
…when it is immediately followed by…
“But I will find out.”
Those six additional words make all the difference.
Reflection
Every leader carries scars from difficult conversations, failed decisions, or moments of public criticism. Some of those scars become valuable wisdom. Others quietly shape our behavior long after the original lesson has outlived its usefulness.
The challenge is not avoiding scars.
The challenge is revisiting them often enough to ask a simple question:
Did this experience teach me the right lesson, or merely the loudest one?
About the Author
Keith Tice is a former Fortune 500 executive with more than 30 years of experience leading enterprise transformation, operational scaling, governance initiatives, procurement organizations, and acquisition integrations across global technology, manufacturing, and consumer products businesses.
Through Keith Tice Advisory, he works with CEOs, executive teams, boards, and PE-backed companies as a trusted leadership partner.