Solutions Smugglers: when advice puts on a question mark

“I have a question for you … what do you think about my opinion?”

Wait, is that your question??

I saw this many times as a corporate trainer. After explaining some fancy Harvard Business theory, someone would raise their hand and say, “I have a question,” then launch into their own opinion.

Then came the awkward pause: no question had appeared.

Realizing they forgot the question, they would often blurt out, “What do you think?”

It is easy to laugh at this, but I think most of us do a more sophisticated version all the time.

Someone tells us about a difficult situation. Almost immediately, a solution appears in our mind. Unburdened by the context, our solution feels obvious.

We could jump straight to advice. Or we might dress up our answer as a question, because people sometimes get annoyed at unsolicited advice.

“Did you do a Six Sigma analysis?” (praying to God they don’t know what Six Sigma is …)

“Did it fail because your boss is a control freak and doesn’t listen to you?”

“What about negotiating for a promotion instead?”

These are questions … because they end in a question mark, with a raised tone and an inquisitive look on your face?

Actually, each smuggles in your answer. 

And hidden inside is a second answer: not only how they should solve the problem, but when they should solve it – right now.

According to you.

I did this myself in a coaching assignment two days ago. I’m not innocent. I, too, become a Solutions Smuggler, despite promoting myself as anything but.

When I catch myself, I sometimes find a better question. A question where I genuinely don’t know what their answer will be. A question that doesn’t activate a countdown timer.

“Is this something you experienced before?”

“Has this gotten better or worse over time?”

“How does this impact the other things you want or need to do?”

Closed questions aren’t automatically “bad.” Sometimes they open a door to choice: answer with one word, if you want. Or expand, if you want.

I have noticed a difference. Some questions leave the other person with very little room. Others still direct attention somewhere, but leave much more freedom over what the question means, how much they want to say, and whether anything needs to be solved now at all.

My wife is my best barometer. When I try to smuggle in my solution, timing, or interpretation as if it were an innocent question, I get thumped by a sharp look of irritation.

When I land on a helpful question, she often stops looking at me and disappears into her mind, reflecting, thinking, searching. Sometimes she answers quickly. Other times, not.

Today, I was not a smuggler. Yeah!

Sometimes I do have a different interpretation I want to share. But I try not to dress it up as a question. This is how I see it. I might be wrong. I just wanted you to hear my perspective, in case by some miracle it actually helps. 

Sometimes I am met by a blank expression.

And in my panic, I sometimes say what I love to mock:

“What do you think?”