Last year, I sat in a leadership meeting at my community college that began like so many others: administrators arriving and greeting colleagues with heart warming smiles, the awakening coffee aroma coming from cups on the table, colorful laptop screens emitting bright lights, a steady shuffle of warm papers fresh from the copier as we prepared to discuss the viability of our programs.
If you’ve ever been in a room like that, you know what happens next. Each person leans in a little too eagerly, ready to champion or defend their program, to tell the story of why their corner of the institution matters. And to be clear—every story sounded compelling. We heard about the hardworking students, the dedicated faculty, and the partnerships that made them possible.
But then came the spreadsheets with quiet, unassuming columns of numbers. However, hidden in those numbers was a different story.
We then engaged in an exercise those uncovered that retention wasn’t as high as we first thought. Graduation and certification rates for some programs lagged behind others. To top it off, we found that the wage earning potential of several program completers were not enough to sustain a family.
That’s when the dissonance struck me. On the one hand, there was a narrative of success, told passionately by people who truly believed it. On the other hand, the data quietly whispering something else. Were we in denial?
And that’s when it clicked: what I was witnessing wasn’t denial. It was confirmation bias.
The Trap of Certainty
Psychologists define confirmation bias as our brain’s tendency to notice and remember information that confirms what we already believe, while downplaying or outright ignoring evidence that challenges it.
But that definition, as tidy as it is, misses something important. Confirmation bias isn’t born of dishonesty. It’s born of efficiency because our brains crave shortcuts. After all, a consistent story is easier to hold onto than a complicated one.
The irony with the natural tendency to seek efficiency conclusions is that the more intelligent and experienced you are, the more susceptible to confirmation bias you might be. When you’ve built your reputation on your judgment, it takes even more courage to consider that your judgment might be wrong.
Everyday Evidence
This bias isn’t confined to conference rooms. It shows up everywhere.
Buy a new phone, and suddenly every glowing review validates your purchase.
Decide a coworker is “always late,” and you’ll file away every tardy moment while conveniently forgetting the times they showed up early.
Stumble upon a new productivity hack, and every minor win becomes proof it works—even if your overall output hasn’t changed.
In other words, confirmation bias is ubiquitous.
It doesn’t matter if you’re a CEO, a student, or a parent trying to win a debate at the dinner table—it creeps in.
The Leadership Trap of Confirmation Bias
In leadership, the stakes are always higher than they first appear. Decisions ripple outward, shaping not just strategies and spreadsheets but the lives of people who depend on us to get it right.
Many institutions are filled with smart, dedicated people—each championing the programs and projects they believed in. They lean toward success stories, the moments they are proud of, but there in lies the danger. When leaders focus too much on celebrating the bright spots, they are quietly ignoring the shadows.
That’s how confirmation bias shows up in leadership.
Leaders spotlight the one shining project while overlooking the structural issues undermining the rest.
Teams point to high-profile wins as proof of momentum, while quietly sidestepping the warning signs of decline.
Good intentions build strong narratives, but those narratives harden into blind spots.
The cost isn’t just faulty metrics or flawed strategies—it’s people. Employees, customers, students, or community members who deserve more than a comforting story about success. They deserve decisions rooted in reality, not just optimism.
The truth is, leadership isn’t about defending what we want to believe. It’s about having the courage to see things as they are—even when it’s uncomfortable—so we can lead with clarity, responsibility, and integrity.
The Discipline of Doubt
So how do you push back against a bias that feels so natural? The answer is by cultivating what I call the discipline of doubt.
Ask the uncomfortable question. Instead of asking “What’s working?” ask “What evidence could prove me wrong?”
Balance the scales. For every data point that affirms your view, actively look for one that challenges it.
Invite outside eyes. People without a personal stake often see the flaws insiders miss.
This isn’t about becoming cynical. It’s about becoming accurate.
The Bigger Picture
Here’s the paradox: confirmation bias feels like it may protect us from uncertainty, but in truth, it exposes us to far greater risks. By doubling down on a story that isn’t entirely true, we end up serving neither those around us nor ourselves.
If instead we learn to pause—if we give ourselves permission to doubt, to question, to see the whole picture—then we not only make better decisions, we serve people better.
So the next time you find yourself ready to celebrate a “success story,” ask yourself a deceptively simple question:
Am I seeing the full picture or just the part that agrees with me?
That one question may be the difference between reinforcing a comfortable narrative and actually leading with clarity.