Say the Thing
Why Your Silence Is Someone Else's Lost Breakthrough
You know, I’m kind of tired of this shit… Last week, I watched a friend i know delete a newsletter they had written for a third time. Her insight on AI could've saved dozens of teams from making the same expensive mistake she'd just solved. But she killed it because "someone probably already said this better."
Meanwhile, three posts down my feed, someone who couldn't explain what a database is was getting 10,000 reactions for saying "AI will change everything" with fire emojis.
This is the tragedy we're living: The smartest people are paralyzed by perfectionism while mediocrity speaks with the confidence of a TED Talk.
The Intelligence Paradox Nobody Talks About
Here's the pattern I see everywhere: The more you actually know, the more you see the gaps in your knowledge. You understand nuance. You recognize complexity. You know there are exceptions to every rule. So you hedge. You qualify. You add disclaimers until your point dissolves into nothing.
But the person who learned something yesterday? They're already teaching it today. No asterisks. No doubts. Just pure, unfiltered confidence in their three-day-old expertise.
This isn't just annoying... it's actively harmful.
When smart people self-censor, the information ecosystem gets flooded with garbage. Bad advice goes unchallenged. Myths become "common knowledge." And the people who could correct course are too busy perfecting their drafts to hit publish.
Your Last Day Could Be Today (And That's Not Melodrama)
I know this sounds dark, but stick with me. An old friend's dad was a scientist. Brilliant guy. Spent 20+ years developing techniques and said he'd write it all down "when he had time to do it properly."
Heart attack at 58. All that knowledge? Gone. Some PhD student is probably stumbling through the same problems right now, problems that already had solutions living in one man's head.
You think you're being responsible by waiting until you're "ready." But ready is a luxury the world doesn't have. Someone, right now, is stuck on exactly the problem you solved last year. Someone is making the mistake you could prevent with one honest post. Someone needs to hear that they're not crazy, that someone else sees what they see.
Every day you don't share what you know, you're making a bet. You're betting you'll have tomorrow. You're betting someone else will fill the gap. You're betting the world can afford to wait for your perfectionism.
The Compound Effect of Authentic Voices
When you say the thing... the real thing, not the LinkedIn-safe version... something powerful happens. You become a beacon for other people who think like you but haven't found their voice yet. You create permission for depth in a world drowning in surface-level takes.
I started saying exactly what I thought about community building eight years ago. Not the "community is everything" platitudes, but the real stuff: “Most communities fail because brands treat humans like metrics. Building community-led growth is actually harder than paid ads. Your gated community experience is probably making your brand worse, not better.”
Did everyone love it?
Hell no.
But the right people found me. The builders who were tired of empty hype. The founders who wanted tactics, not inspiration. The misfits who needed someone to say what they were thinking.
That's what happens when you say the thing: You repel the wrong people and magnetize the right ones.
Be The Same Person Everywhere
Here's Jon’s own rule: If I wouldn't say it at a dinner party, I won't say it on LinkedIn. If I wouldn't put my name on it in the company Slack, I won't whisper it in DMs. Same person, same standards, everywhere.
This isn't about being reckless. It's about integrity. It's about knowing that when people meet you in person, they get exactly who they expected from your writing or content. No performance. No persona. Just you, consistently you, whether you're on stage or at the bar.
Most people fracture themselves across contexts. Professional you. Social media you. Real you. That's exhausting, and eventually, the gaps show. But when you say the thing, everywhere, always? You never have to remember which mask you're wearing.
The Tactical Reality of Speaking Up
Let's get practical. Here's how to start saying the thing:
First, write like you talk. Seriously. Record yourself explaining something to a friend, then transcribe it. That energy? That's what people actually want to read. Not your tenth revision that sounds like a McKinsey report.
Second, publish at 80% perfect. That last 20% of polish? It's killing your message. Your raw insight at 80% is worth more than someone else's recycled take at 100%.
Third, be specific about what you stand for AND what you stand against. Opinions have edges. If everyone agrees with you, you haven't said anything worth saying.
Fourth, cite receipts for big claims but trust your experience for observations. You don't need a peer-reviewed study to say "I've noticed that..." You've noticed it. That's the receipt.
Your Truth Is Someone's Unlock
The thing you're not saying? Someone needs it. Not a version of it. Not something similar. Your specific take, with your specific experience, told in your specific way.
Maybe it's the founder who needs to hear that their gut feeling about their cofounder is right. Maybe it's the engineer who needs permission to push back on terrible architecture. Maybe it's the creator who needs to know that everyone feels like a fraud sometimes.
You're not responsible for having all the answers. You're responsible for sharing the answers you do have.
The world has enough careful, committee-approved content. It has enough thought leaders recycling the same safe takes. It has enough people performing expertise they don't have.
What it needs is you. Unfiltered. Unedited. Saying the thing.
So say it.
-Jon


