Show Them The Kitchen

Rachel left after less than a year. It wasn't her fault.

She joined a growing company as a senior leader with a track record of building teams and delivering results. The company had momentum. The team was shipping. Leadership seemed aligned.

Her first week was two orientation meetings and one product walkthrough. Standard stuff. Then came her first real assignment, a strategic initiative that cut across the organization. She asked for context. What had been tried before? Who were the key stakeholders? What were the political landmines? What were the pitfalls to avoid?

She got vague answers. "Just dive in and see what you find". "The team will help you figure it out". "We hired you because you can handle ambiguity".

So she dove in. She spent hours piecing together information from Slack threads and old documents. She scheduled meetings to understand team dynamics and power structures. She made assumptions, tested them, course-corrected when they were wrong. She figured it out because that's what capable people do.

Meanwhile, her manager focused on the small stuff. The format of her status updates. The structure of her project plans. Whether she was using the right template for her presentations. Detailed feedback on execution, zero guidance on strategy.

When Rachel asked why the CFO seemed skeptical about the initiative, she got a shrug. When she asked about the technical decisions that seemed odd, she was told "that's just how we do things here". When she asked about team dynamics that felt tense, she was told not to worry about it.

Her manager probably didn't set out to make Rachel's job harder. They were likely overwhelmed themselves, unsure how to translate their messy understanding of organizational politics into useful guidance. It's easier to review a status update than to explain why the CFO's skepticism isn't really about this project. It's easier to check presentation formatting than to articulate the unwritten rules about how decisions actually get made.

So they focused on what felt concrete. What they knew how to do. And they hoped Rachel would figure out the rest, the way they had figured it out years ago. What they didn't realize was that every shrug, every "you'll understand eventually", was teaching Rachel something. Not resilience. Not independence. Just that her manager didn't trust her with the information she needed.

A few months in, Rachel was delivering. The initiative was moving forward. Leadership seemed pleased. But Rachel was exhausted. Not from the work itself but from navigating blindfolded. Every decision required detective work. Every interaction required guessing at unspoken rules.

A few months later, she gave her three months notice.

Maybe you've been Rachel. Maybe you've been her manager. Maybe you've been both.

If you've been Rachel, you remember the exhaustion and the feeling that everyone else knows something you don't. The slow realization that your manager isn't protecting you from complexity, they're just not trusting you with information.

If you've been the manager, you remember the moment someone asked for real context and you deflected. You remember why. It wasn't cruelty. It was easier to talk about typos than to admit you don't fully understand the politics yourself. Easier to say "figure it out" than to reveal how messy and uncertain everything actually is. Easier to test their resilience than to risk them questioning whether this project should even exist.

Both sides feel justified. Both sides are exhausting. And the pattern continues.

Rachel was an experienced leader, but this pattern plays out at every level. Leaders withhold context and then wonder why people struggle. But there is a way.

The Two Kitchens

If you hire a chef, you don't need to show them how to chop an onion or make a sauce. They already know that. You do need to show them where the knives are. Which ones actually cut. Which burner runs hotter than the rest. Which cutting board has a crack that will catch the blade. Where the floor is slippery.

Some managers hand you the keys and say "figure it out". They think this tests your capability. They think withholding context builds resilience. They think if you're truly talented, you'll figure out the landscape on your own.

Other managers walk you through the kitchen on day one. Here's where things are. Here's what works and what doesn't. Here's the history you need to understand why things are the way they are. Here's the context that will help you make good decisions.

Both chefs can cook. One will be tired and resentful. The other will be effective and engaged.

The difference isn't the chef. It's the environment you created.

What They're Missing

Context isn't about systems or tools. You can read the documentation for that. Context is about people, patterns, and the unwritten rules that shape how work actually gets done.

The peer who pushes back hard in meetings isn't being difficult. They watched two projects fail because people were too polite to surface problems early. Now they question assumptions aggressively. When you know that, you can work with them effectively instead of taking it personally.

The project everyone's working on was supposed to ship last quarter. Scope tripled quietly, no one pushed back, and now everyone's stressed and working overtime to hit the new deadline. Without knowing that history, you just see a burnt-out team. With it, you understand why morale is low and can adjust your approach.

Last month the platform went down during a critical demo. Leadership is still jumpy about it, which is why almost every bug in production makes everyone feel like the sky is falling. Know that, and you frame your proposals differently from day one.

These aren't minor details. These are the things that determine whether your work succeeds or fails. And when leaders withhold them, they're not testing you. They're just making your job harder for no reason.

So if context is the key to success, why do we fail to provide it?

Why Smart Leaders Fail at This

Most leaders don't do this maliciously. They do it for reasons that feel logical in the moment but produce terrible outcomes.

They think you'll figure it out. They did. They learned the hard way, navigating politics and landmines until they built their mental map. If they could do it, you can too. This sounds reasonable until you realize it wastes months of someone's time and burns goodwill. The new hire who proposes the exact project that failed last year doesn't look strategic. They look uninformed. You just made them look uninformed.

They think withholding context builds character. Some version of "I don't want to hand-hold" or "let's see how they handle ambiguity". This isn't leadership development. This is hazing. You're not teaching people to navigate complexity. You're teaching them that you don't trust them with information.

They don't know how to guide. Most managers got promoted for execution, not for teaching. They can tell when a status update is formatted wrong. They can't articulate the strategic context that would help you write a better one. So they default to what they know. Control the details. Hope you figure out the rest.

They're protecting themselves. If you understand the full context, you might question their decisions. You might see that the strategy isn't as solid as it seems. You might realize the project is doomed and push back. Better to keep you focused on execution and insulated from the messy reality.

The organization makes it hard. In larger companies, information becomes political currency. Teams hoard context because it gives them leverage. Leaders can't share what they don't know, and the people with context aren't always the people doing the managing. The systems fragment information across silos and nobody takes responsibility for connecting the dots.

None of these reasons justify leaving people in the dark. But they explain why this pattern is so common.

Every Shrug Is a Choice

Think about the last time someone on your team asked for context. Not technical details, but the real context. Why is leadership skeptical? What's the history here? Who do I need to know about?

What did you give them?

If you're honest, you might have given them a version of what Rachel's manager gave her. A shrug. A "figure it out". A redirect to focus on something more concrete. Not because you wanted to make their job harder. But because explaining the messy reality felt harder than just fixing their status update.

Point out the wobbly table. Flag the slippery floor. Tell them about the knives that are dull and can hurt them. Show them which burner runs too hot. Not gossip. Not drama. Just the information they need to do good work.

Your experienced people are making decisions in partial darkness too. They've gotten better at guessing, but they're still missing context you could give them.

When you share context, capable people don't just survive. They thrive. They make better decisions. They move faster. They feel trusted instead of tested. And they stick around because they're not exhausted from navigating blindfolded.

Tomorrow someone will ask you for context. The CFO's concerns. The political dynamics. The history that matters.

You'll have a choice. Give them a shrug, or show them the kitchen.

The craft is theirs. The environment is yours.