The Confidence Trap: What We Often Miss

30 October 2025

Above: Confidence vs hesitancy. Image generated by ChatGPT.

We often trust people who speak with certainty. A sharp, confidently delivered answer feels reassuring — especially when it matches what we already think. And in fast-moving environments like construction, clarity can feel like a gift.

Yet, the more I learn, the more questions I find myself asking. That can surprise people — and at times, frustrate them.

I used to think that this was simply my personality. In my head, I simply lacked confidence, and I was being overanalytical. But, as I’ve grown, I’ve come to learn that the truth is more straightforward. Over the years, I've come to learn how much I don't know. Experience has taught me how often things go wrong, and how much risk sits in the blind spots — the things I overlooked because I didn't think to ask.

So, often, I take my time. And when something isn’t clear, I slow down and think carefully. I recognise that this can look like indecision.

On reflection, my response might sound like I'm passing the buck, especially if I say I don’t know and suggest that someone else needs to be consulted. But the reality is that I’m not ducking responsibility. I’m taking my responsibility seriously.

So, what's going on here?

There's a well-known psychological pattern that helps explain my behaviour: the Dunning-Kruger effect. You've probably heard of it.

People often mis-describe the effect and characterise it as " when dumb people think they're smart." But that's not quite right and misses the lesson to be learned.

The original study found something subtle and more interesting. When people have only a little knowledge in a subject, they often overestimate their ability. This isn’t necessarily because they are dumb, or arrogant — they simply don't know what they don't know. And because they are not aware of the gaps in their knowledge, they speak with more certainty than someone who knows more about the subject.

So, curiously, as individuals gain experience, their confidence doesn't necessarily go up. In certain situations, it can dip. It others, their responses may raise uncertainty. Why? Because through their experience, they become more aware of how much they don't know — and therefore how much can go wrong if they get it wrong.

That's the paradox. Confidence doesn't necessarily correlate with competence. And when it comes to high-stakes decision-making, that distinction matters.

Oversimplification is common in construction — "just stick some tiles on it", or "we've always done it this way and never had a problem." However, once you've worked through enough problems, you realise how many layers sit underneath a "simple" job. Literally and figuratively.

Take roofing. It sounds simple: it keeps the rain out of your building. But in reality, you're thinking about where the water goes, how the roof handles expansion and contraction, how it's fixed down, whether materials are compatible, how practical it is to be installed, how it will age, and how it will be maintained. And that's before you even get into things like thermal performance, condensation risk or compliance with the building regulations.

Drawing on that depth of experience, you start to think differently. You see more points of potential failure. You notice more variables. You understand how things seem fine for years — until they're not.

That changes how you behave. You become cautious. You become more aware of the edges of your own expertise — and more open about when you've reached them. You start to say, "I think that needs a closer look," or even, "I don't know."

In some cultures, that can sound like a weakness. But it's not. It's a strength — especially in a post-Grenfell Tower industry, where the consequences of misplaced confidence can be catastrophic.

And let's be clear: confidence has value. It can reassure clients, help move things forward, and make teams feel energised. But there's a risk when confidence becomes performative — when it's not matched by depth.

We've all heard the lines:

“We've done it like this for years."

“We've never had an issue."

"The regulations are over-complicated — this traditional method is fool proof."

Critically, misplaced confidence like risks shutting down scrutiny. And when that happens, it's easy to miss risks hiding in plain sight. Sometimes, what's confidently presented as best practice is just routine. It hasn't gone wrong yet. That doesn't mean it's right.

So, what does expertise look like?

It can be quieter than we expect. It is often expressed through reflective, inquisitive, and sometimes inconvenient responses. It doesn't guarantee immediate answers but asks better questions. It's more focused on getting it right than sounding right.

That matters for leaders.

Because it's easy to reward the person who gives the quick, confident answer. They sound sure. They move things forward. But if that's all we value, we risk building cultures that overlook risk.

Effective leadership requires recognising different decision styles, each with their own strengths, and knowing when each is appropriate.

Yet, I’m not advocating that we drag out every small decision through deep analysis. Many day-to-day decisions are low-risk or low-impact, and in those cases, confidence is a powerful tool and delivers quick results. But as risk and impact increase, the balance shifts. You need caution. You need analysis. You need humility. And that's not a weakness. That's competence in action.

For leaders, our job is to make space for both styles. We should encourage confidence — but not mistake it for competence. And we should value caution and not misread it as indecision. Yet this tension between fast and considered thinking is healthy. It's what keeps teams balanced.

So, if someone pauses before answering, or asks more questions than expected, don't assume they're unsure. It might be the opposite. They might be the one who really understands what's at stake.

I'd rather lead a team that asks the right questions than one that always has the quickest answers. Especially in construction, where the cost of getting it wrong can be measured in lives.

References

• Kruger, J. and Dunning, D. (1999) ‘Unskilled and unaware of it: How difficulties in recognizing one’s own incompetence lead to inflated self-assessments’. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 77(6), pp.1121–1134. Available from: https://doi.org/10.1037/0022-3514.77.6.1121 

  Accessed 27 August 2025