Robin Weninger

Interest is cheap. And it often feels like progress because it rewards us fast. Execution starts when a leader adds the “hook”: a decision that carries trade-offs, ownership, and consequences. If you keep feeding enthusiasm without commitment, you train everyone to stay interested while nothing becomes real.

Many executives hire consultants not to solve problems, but to purchase "Adult Supervision as a Service"; an expensive insurance policy against personal blame. By outsourcing the risk of decision-making to external experts, leaders unconsciously trade their authority for emotional safety. This dynamic creates a dysfunctional inversion where consultants effectively run the show while executives merely "align," leaving the organization void of genuine accountability. The result is a workforce of passive passengers waiting for direction rather than captains taking ownership of outcomes. Ultimately, while leaders can rent intelligence and analysis, they cannot outsource the courage required to say, "This decision is mine."

Many organizations burn energy sanitizing the truth rather than solving it. This essay argues that the First Article of the Cologne Constitution, Et es wie et es (It is what it is), is not a phrase of resignation, but a critical leadership discipline. It proposes that admitting the raw, unpolished state of a project is the only valid starting point for progress. By swapping corporate euphemisms for "Tacheles" (straight talk), leaders stop negotiating with the facts and start acting on them. You cannot navigate a map you refuse to look at.

Big Picture Thinking is often just sophisticated procrastination that paralyzes us by widening the gap between a problem's size and our ability to act. We use complexity as camouflage to avoid the risk of execution, but this only stalls progress. The solution is to ignore the vastness and find the "Minimum Unit of Meaningful Motion", the absolute smallest action that moves you forward. You cannot control the ocean, but you can always control the next stroke.

Curiosity expands our world, but it also comes with a hidden tax: every spark of interest opens a mental loop the mind continues to monitor. Over time, these unresolved possibilities accumulate into cognitive debt and emotional residue, not because we commit to too much, but because we consider too much. The dilemma isn’t distraction but the bandwidth required to process possibility. Curiosity remains essential, but its value increases when we learn to close loops intentionally instead of generating more of them.