(Why We Need Misfits to Save Us)

For the longest time, my biggest regret was failing the GMAT.

Not because I desperately wanted an MBA. Because that exam was my ticket to an executive MBA program, as a mature student, fully paid for by my employer. That failure proved something I’d suspected my entire life: I wasn’t smart enough.

Never mind that I could see patterns in people. Never mind that I had an outrageously deep well of strength, grit, and determination. Or that pretty much everyone always asked me my opinion about how to get out of or through some jam. I mean, seriously, it took three attempts to pass my driver’s license test. Why did I think the GMAT would be different? Test-taking ALWAYS crippled me. Always had; always will.

For years, I carried that failure as proof I’d never have the geopolitical, economic, societal and business knowledge to integrate a truly ‘sophisticated’ point of view. I’d always be working from incomplete data. Despite building a career that made more happy millionaires than I have fingers on both hands. Despite leading teams and delivering unheard of results in faltering industries. I saw patterns across markets, industries and teams that others missed. Yet deep down, I believed I was a misfit: without that executive MBA, what good was I?

Then I started meeting people who shattered my definition of intelligence entirely.
So, what does an ADHD person, a Mensa member with a 170 IQ and that test-failing waif have in common? Besides being friends, confidantes, and allies, each also struggled with a sense of not belonging.

Here’s the thing. NONE of them questioned my intelligence. (Truthfully, nobody ever has.) NONE of them made me feel inferior. (Though some have tried over my life, nobody has ever been successful on that score.) ALL of them said at some point in our conversations that they felt like outsiders most of their lives. (Exactly like so many other colleagues, friends, direct reports and allies throughout my life.) For this girl from a small town, who nearly killed herself with daily migraines trying to be the smartest in class, this was revelatory.

We are ALL misfits.

Not only is that normal. It is ESSENTIAL!

Because intelligence isn’t a singular, all-encompassing measure. There’s also creativity. Humour. Athletic ability. Intuition. The ability to argue, to write, to parent. To see what others miss. To connect what others separate. To contribute in ways others can’t.

We don’t all need every form of intelligence packaged in one person. We need EXPOSURE to all these different ways of thinking.

I’ve told you before: the 5Cs podcast has been a labour of love and a powerful learning experience for me over the last four years. It has also been a huge revelation. Specifically, about the massive problems we’ve built into our world.

Our education system has effectively narrowed opportunities by churning out intellectuals at the expense of artists and visionaries. Most business leaders call themselves “leaders.” Several prefer the illustrious term visionary. Personally, I am still waiting to meet a real visionary in business. (Steve Jobs, whom I never met, might be the exception – more on him next week.)

Artists are visionaries by nature. They see the world differently. They don’t just optimize existing systems. They imagine entirely new ones. Polymaths are also visionaries. They synthesize disparate fields into entirely new frameworks. They see connections across domains that specialists miss entirely. These are the exact kinds of minds our business systems have systematically devalued. And you already know how I feel about neurodivergent minds. ALL of these missing pieces? We desperately need them all.

Because the problems we’re facing – climate instability, economic fragility, broken systems that extract rather than regenerate – these can’t be solved by the same thinking that created them.

We need the diversity of thought that comes from people who feel like outsiders.

The polymath who integrates across disciplines. The artist who sees patterns in nature that inform business design. The neurodivergent who thinks way past time and space. And yes, even the leader who failed the GMAT but spent decades seeing what others missed.

The fact that we all felt like misfits doesn’t mean we’re broken. It means we’re exactly what the world needs right now.

Don’t prematurely stunt yourself. You have more to give than you can imagine.

(By the way, the thoughts from the polymath are airing throughout February.)