
A question costs nothing. Shutting someone down can cost everything.
The biggest rush at work isn’t a bonus check. It’s being understood. Strip that away and even the toughest employee a will start to dry up. Plants don’t wither because they’re weak. They wither because they’re starved. Recognition isn’t a perk. It’s oxygen.
Plants don’t wither because they’re weak. They wither because they’re starved.
Let me show you what that looks like in three ways: an employee’s story, a classroom demo, and a manager’s playbook.
The Questions You Don’t Ask
You think you know your employees. You don’t. She might be the waitress pulling doubles to keep the lights on. She might be the secretary with an MBA who took a job beneath her for health insurance. She might be the fry cook who once wrote a novel before life got in the way. Different faces, same truth: you never asked. Zero curiosity. Zero leadership.
Curiosity isn’t prying. It’s paying attention. Not just, ‘How was your weekend?’ but, ‘How was your daughter’s soccer tournament?’ or, ‘I saw your kid’s name in the paper — congrats.’ Those specifics land. They tell people you actually notice.
Zero curiosity. Zero leadership.
Listening isn’t just about personal life. It’s about business. Maybe she’s got the seed of a great idea but doesn’t know how to pitch it. Or maybe she used to, until you shut her down so many times she quit trying. Either way, that’s on you.
A Demo Tape
In my management class, I run a simple exercise: map out how to build a peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich. Every semester, a student pipes up: ‘Grill it!’ Half the room looks at her like she’s lost her mind.
My job as facilitator is to keep the project on track and keep her engaged. I can shut her down harshly, or I can handle it with tact…
Harsh: Come on, we’re just making a PB&J, here. No need to complicate things. Sit down.
With tact: Oooh, now you’re talking. I can almost taste the gooey goodness. But here’s the thing—our market research says society’s not ready for that yet. Maybe in the next release.

A grilled PB&J sounds like The Great Peanut Butter Conspiracy. Maybe it is. But that’s the point — because hearing someone out is about respect, not results.
If I shut her down, will she keep engaging? At the risk of extending the metaphor too far, how likely will she be to undermine the PB&J project? To gossip, backstab, sabotage, or just wither?
Not every idea gets built. But every idea deserves to be heard — because hearing someone out is about respect, not results.
What happened when I really leaned into her idea? She lit up. She felt heard. She stayed engaged. And when the team decided to keep it classic, she was fine with it. Because she knew she’d been seen.
She didn’t need us to grill the sandwich. She just needed us to acknowledge she had a brain worth listening to.
A Manager’s Playbook
Say. Hmm, isn’t that interesting (or one of a million other ways to open yourself up).
Ask. Curiosity is free.
Listen. Don’t half-check your phone.
Remember. Details matter.
Act. Make it clear their idea shaped the path.
To see someone is to give them life. To miss it is to let them wither. That’s true in marriage. It’s true in leadership. It’s true anywhere human beings show up hoping to matter.
You’re already paying them. Why not get their best?