If You Have to Say You’re Smart…

When ego disguises itself as leadership, wisdom usually leaves the room.

By LONNIE KING

Recently, I sat in on a department-wide conference call where we were told—once again—that our company has no plans to upgrade our ancient ERP system. For context, it’s a system we’ve been using since the early 1990s. It’s been modified and bandaged together for years, but at this point, even the original developers no longer support it.

It can’t be upgraded. It can’t be customized. It is becoming less and less efficient, and we supplement its inadequacies with other apps to try and provide sensible data.

And we’re not talking about a mom-and-pop shop here. We’re a billion-dollar operation. The money’s there. The need is obvious. But the CEO won’t budge.

Why?

Because he’s afraid a system migration could disrupt sales.

The Line That Stuck with Me

During that meeting, I raised a concern:

“Aren’t we just making this harder on ourselves by kicking the can down the road another 3–5 years? The longer we wait, the more painful the inevitable change will be. This is very short-sighted.”

That’s when a corporate VP, speaking as a mouthpiece for the CEO, said something that’s been stuck in my head ever since:

“Listen, David is a real smart guy.”

That was the whole argument. No follow-up. No data. No counterpoint. Just: he’s smart—trust him.

It’s not the first time I’ve heard that kind of rationale used to justify a questionable decision. And the more I think about it, the more I realize how much this pattern shows up far beyond just the workplace.

When ‘Smart’ Becomes a Shield

We see this same mentality all over the place:

• In politics, when leaders say, “Nobody knows more about [topic] than I do.”
• In churches, when spiritual authority is protected by the phrase, “He’s anointed by God.”
• In corporate America, when a CEO’s word becomes gospel because, “he’s a real smart guy.”

It’s the same defense mechanism dressed in different outfits. The message is always: Don’t question this. Trust the brilliance.

But here’s the problem—truly wise people don’t need to announce their wisdom. And they certainly don’t need others to do it for them. When someone keeps telling you how smart they are (or makes sure others do it), that’s usually insecurity talking, not intelligence.

The Enron Effect: When Ego Outpaces Integrity

There’s a book about the Enron collapse called The Smartest Guys in the Room. I’ve only read excerpts and articles about it, but the title alone says so much.

And while I haven’t read the entire book, I do know a little about the Enron story—because it happened right here in my hometown. I knew a couple of people who lost their jobs when the collapse hit. Real people. Real families. Real consequences.

Ken Lay and his cronies conspired to run that company off the face of the earth—not by accident, but by building a culture of arrogance. They believed they were smarter than everyone else, and they expected the world to believe it too. So when the numbers didn’t back up their genius, they didn’t ask better questions or course-correct. They cooked the books. Lied to investors. Hid their failures behind jargon and spin.

Not to protect the company—but to protect the illusion of brilliance: “Let’s just stay in here so it looks like we know what we’re doing.”

It’s a cautionary tale that still echoes today. Because when a leader’s identity is built on being the smartest guy in the room, accountability dies. Humility dies. And sooner or later, the truth catches up.

And by then, it’s not just the leader who pays the price. Everyone else does too.

Smart ≠ Wise

There’s a big difference between being smart and being wise.

• Smart people can recite facts, make sharp observations, and win arguments.
• Wise people recognize their limitations, listen deeply, and seek input before they act.

Smartness is often about control. Wisdom is about discernment. One is about knowing; the other is about growing.

And maybe that’s why so many insecure leaders rely on proxies to prop up their image. Because deep down, they know that smart alone isn’t enough.

Wisdom Is Willing to Listen

In faith communities, you hear a lot of talk about humility. But humility isn’t some weak, apologetic posture. It’s the courage to say:

“I don’t know everything. So I’m going to surround myself with people who can help me see more clearly.”

That’s what wisdom looks like.

It doesn’t silence dissent with credentials. It invites feedback. It admits blind spots. It trusts that the truth is more important than the optics.

If your only defense for a decision is “he’s a smart guy,” then it might be time to ask harder questions.

A Lesson to Be Learned

There’s a life lesson in all of this: you don’t have to be the smartest person in the room. In fact, if you think you are, you’ve probably already stopped learning.

And if you’re ever tempted to extol your intelligence or street smarts—or insist that other people remind everyone that you know what you’re doing, just because—stop immediately and ask yourself: What do I NOT know here?

If you’re willing to answer that question authentically, you’ll likely discover that there are a lot of things you don’t know—and could find wise counselors to help mitigate the gaps in your understanding.

If we’ll admit that to ourselves, we’ll better understand that no one is smart enough to know everything about everything.

Then, the next time someone says, “He’s a real smart guy,” as if that’s supposed to shut down debate, maybe ask this instead:

“Is he smart enough to listen?”

Because we all saw what happened the last time someone insisted on being the smartest guy in the room. 

Let’s not repeat it.

Grace and grit to you!  — LK