The Integrity of “I Don’t Know”

By Jay Jacobson, LUTCF, CPC, CFSP

"I don't know. What do you think?

Years ago, I sat in a room with a leader I admired. He had just been asked a tricky question by a colleague, the kind of question that many would try to answer with confidence even if they weren’t sure of the truth. He leaned forward, paused, and said, “I don’t know.”

The room went quiet.

It wasn’t the answer anyone expected. But in that silence, something shifted. People leaned in. There was respect, not disappointment. That leader wasn’t hiding behind false certainty. He was practicing integrity in its purest form.

When Jesse Pujji shared his story about Ric Elias and the reminder that even billion-dollar CEOs sometimes admit they “don’t know,” it struck me deeply. We often think integrity is only about the big things: honoring commitments, keeping promises, and standing by values. And yes, that is true. But integrity also shows up in the small, vulnerable moments when we are willing to align our words with our reality.

“I don’t know” is one of the most honest sentences a leader can say. And ironically, it often unlocks more wisdom than pretending to know ever could.

Think about it. When we say, “I don’t know,” we invite others into the process. We open the door to collaboration. We give permission for others to share their best thinking. It frees us from the exhausting burden of always needing to be right.

I have seen this play out in my own profession. As a funeral director and consultant, families have asked me questions that no textbook could prepare me for. In those moments, the temptation was strong to have an answer for everything. But the moments of most excellent connection came when I dared to say, “I don’t know, but I will find out for you.”

That simple phrase builds trust. It shows we value truth more than image. It shows we are willing to keep learning.

Integrity is not about perfection. It is about alignment. Our actions, our words, and our inner truth work together. And sometimes that truth is, “I don’t know.”

What happens after that is the real gift. Because once we admit it, we often find new ideas, fresh energy, and paths we could not see before.

So the next time you feel the pressure to have all the answers, take a breath. Try on those three words.

“I don’t know.”

You might be surprised by the respect, trust, and possibilities that follow.

What about you? When was a time you admitted “I don’t know,” and how did it shape your leadership or your relationships?