I spent part of this Sunday re-reading Le Petit Prince.
I hadn't opened it in years. I didn't expect it to stop me in my tracks. There's a passage where Saint-Exupéry describes the difference between two ways of seeing a house: "Ho visto una bella casa in mattoni rosa, con dei gerani alle finestre, e dei colombi sul tetto." A beautiful house. Pink bricks. Geraniums at the windows. Doves on the roof. Nobody can picture it.
But say:
"Ho visto una casa da centomila lire", and suddenly: "Come è bella!" How beautiful!
He also tells of an astronomer who discovered a new planet. When he presented his findings dressed in traditional clothing, nobody believed him. Years later, he returned in a European suit. Same discovery. Same man. Suddenly it gets credible.
Same reality. Different packaging.
At some point, most of us stopped using our imagination and started using our judgment instead. Not because we became smarter. Because we were taught that imagination is not serious. Not professional. Not adult.
We learned to ask: how much does it cost? Who said it? What title do they have? Is it in the data? We stopped asking: does it make sense? Can I picture it? Does it feel true?
I see this in business constantly.
The loudest voice wins the room. Not the clearest one. The most expensive consultant gets the mandate. Not the most insightful one. The polished deck gets approved. Not the honest conversation. And decisions get made based on the label, the suit, the price tag — not based on the pink bricks and the geraniums.
The child in Saint-Exupéry's book sees what adults can't. Not because children are naive, but because they haven't yet learned what they're supposed to ignore. The best advisors, the best leaders, the best decision-makers I've known have one thing in common: they never fully grew up. They kept something childish, the ability to see the house. Not just the price.
That's not naivety. That's the hardest skill in the room.
What have you stopped seeing because you grew up?
← Insights