We are all familiar with the black box. The mysterious container that holds the story of what went wrong – or what saved the day. But in leadership, the black box often isn’t a machine. It’s a person.

A boss, peer – a stakeholder of some kind.

We spend an incredible amount of time worrying about what’s inside their Black Box. What are they thinking? Will they approve? Disapprove? Roll their eyes? Say yes? Say no?

We tend to project, anticipate, and invent whole storylines before we’ve even asked the question.

It’s natural – a study found that people would rather know something bad was going to happen, than not know what was going to happen.

I coached someone a few years ago who described his boss as a black box.

From the outside, the signals were mixed. He thought the boss looked annoyed. He worried that if he shared ideas, they’d be dismissed or, worse, trigger disapproval. So, he kept quiet. He felt it was better not to open the black box – because on balance, he felt his boss harboured negative thoughts about him.

Except the longer we leave a black box closed, the more ominous it becomes. We start treating it like Pandora’s box – imagining monsters lurking inside.

In his case, push finally came to shove. He had to speak up. He had been ruminating on problems for too long.

He prepped himself and took an opportunity to share.

And to his surprise – and relief, the black box, once opened, was full of welcome. The boss wasn’t irritated. In fact, she appreciated the ideas, valued the input, and encouraged more. He had been carrying the burden of unnecessary dread.

He repeated the same black box premonitions with a colleague who wasn’t responding. Silence had become a canvas for worst-case scenarios. But again, when the box was opened, it turned out to contain simple explanations and even a constructive way forward.

And the black box lesson?

When we label someone a “black box,” we allow our imagination to run riot – but rarely in an upbeat, uplifting way. We give space to the negative ‘what ifs’ and no room for reality.

The way we frame situations matters. The person I was coaching took care to express himself thoughtfully.

But the ultimate test was in the act of opening the box. It often reveals far less doom and gloom than feared.

What if, instead of dreading what’s inside, we got curious?

What if the black box is less Pandora and more Kinder Surprise – the parts to something you can build and can prove useful.

The only way to know is to open it.