Augustus III, King of Poland, received a cover letter in July 1733 from a German musician — some fella named Bach — attached to a bunch of sheet music. Here’s part of that letter:
“In deepest Devotion I present to your Royal Highness this small product of that science which I have attained in music, with the most humble request that you will deign to regard it not according to the imperfection of its Composition, but with a most gracious eye ... and thus take me into your most mighty Protection.”
That small, imperfect product? It was only his Mass in B Minor, widely regarded as one of the greatest compositions of all time.
Here’s how the Netherlands Bach Society describes it on YouTube, “In between an awe-inspiring Kyrie and the jubilant final Dona nobis pacem, there are nine completely unique arias and duets, fourteen impressive ensemble sections for four, five, six and even eight voices, a broad spectrum of instrumental solos, and an incredible variety of styles.”
A “small product” indeed ;)
I can’t read Bach’s mind (I’ve played violin since 1974, and I can barely read his Sonatas and Partitas), so I’m curious: was he really that modest, or was the self-deprecation a strategic gambit to get the job he wanted: court composer?
But what I really wonder about is how Augustus himself reacted to that letter.
Imagine the king's secretary handing him the package. Your Highness, a musician from Leipzig sent this. Says it's a small product of his attempts at music. Asks for your indulgence.
If Augustus had taken Bach at his word — if he'd glanced at the inscription, registered the apology, and filed the parts away unexamined — the world might have lost the Mass in B minor for another century.
He didn't. Three years later, Bach got the court composer title he was angling for.
But here's what I find myself thinking about: Augustus had to look past the packaging.
And most of us, most of the time, don't.
So what I want to talk about today is: how should leaders handle self-deprecation?
Why Not Just Take the Discount?
Somewhere on your team this week, someone is going to walk into your office or open a Slack thread with a sentence that begins:
"This is probably a dumb question, but..."
"I might be totally wrong here, but..."
"You probably already know this, but..."
What’s the best way to address the self-doubt?
Some leaders — not you, obviously — would welcome it.
Their thinking goes like this: if folks in their organization lack self-confidence, they can keep them at the low end of the salary ladder. Make them feel like they're lucky to have a job, so they won't complain or organize or jump ship. Feel good themselves by "lending" them their confidence.
There are good reasons to discourage self-deprecation, even though it can feel like having discount employees.
First, it’s not a discount. Self-deprecators are actually bringing a worse product at the same price. The person who hedges their words almost always hedges their thinking as well, editing ideas before bringing them. They don't challenge you when pushing back could be valuable.
They aren’t JS Bach with a humble cover letter. You're getting PDQ Bach, the one who mailed you only the bits they’re sure you’ll like.
Second, you’re going to end up pushing down or driving away good people.
People who self-deprecate in environments that reward self-doubt either shrink further, or end up leaving when they feel sufficiently under-appreciated. And those who leave first are the ones with options.
Third — and this is the one that should keep you up at night — the contributions most likely to be hedged are also the contributions most likely to contain information you don't already have.
People hedge when they worry you don’t want to hear what they have to say. Which means a leader whose team runs on self-deprecation systematically loses access to exactly the information that should be written in bold flashing 240-point neon font on a SWOT matrix.
That’s not a controversial argument. So where’s the issue here?
The Problem: Hedging Feels Good All Around
The issue is this: unless you’re paying very close attention, there’s a good chance that you’re unconsciously encouraging a fair amount of hedging, self-deprecation, and low-status behavior.
Because it’s a “feel-good-in-the-short-term” behavioral dynamic. For both parties.
While your directs self-deprecate to let themselves off the hook, notice how they’re letting you and your nervous system off the hook as well.
Notice what happens in your body when a direct report comes to you with “This is probably a dumb question, but…”
Deference. Safety. Low stakes.
Ahhh…
Now picture that same person walking into your office with more of a confident swagger. “I’ve thought this through. We should do X, and here’s why. What do you think?”
Now you’ve got to make an effort. You have to evaluate fairly. Possibly disagree. And risk being wrong.
Where Hedging Comes From
Self-deprecation isn't a character flaw. And while a few self-deprecators are working the Bach angle — strategically performing humility to gain a hearing — most are not.
Most workplace self-deprecation is a protective adaptation. A habit formed in earlier environments that punished confidence.
That environment might be a family of origin, a culture where directness from a subordinate is unthinkable, or a toxic workplace where, for example, a confident woman learned that behaving the same way as a confident man got her tagged as "problematic."
The hedging worked — then.
It's up to you whether that habit still works for them, or whether it's no longer necessary, but simply costly.
When you hear someone hedge, you've been given a glimpse into their history. Wherever they learned that lesson, it wasn't from you. Now it's your job to help them discover that respectful, honest confidence is the best way to present themselves.
What to Do Instead
So the next time someone walks into your office with "This is probably a dumb question, but..." — what do you do?
Don’t reach for that platitude, “There are no dumb questions.”
(My first week in the private sector, I took that advice to heart when I asked a prospect, “What exactly do you mean by P&L?” My boss quickly learned that there are, in fact, dumb questions.)
And don’t give them the “act more confident” speech. That puts you in the position of critic rather than ally, and heaps an extra helping of shame on top of their already-negative self-perception.
Here’s what I recommend: notice how your body responds to the pre-apology. The quiet relief that you aren’t going to be challenged; no need to add to your cognitive load in this conversation. Can you feel this stance as a sensation?
If so, that sensation is a clear signal that your nervous system prefers the hedge to the more challenging contribution it would otherwise have to engage with.
Once you’ve become aware of this dynamic, you’re ready to respond differently.
Now mentally strip the hedge. Listen only to the claim underneath.
Then ask yourself a single question:
"If a senior colleague had made this same observation with full confidence, how would I respond?"
Respond that way.
Do this for a month and you'll notice two things.
First, you'll catch yourself hearing hedges you used to file under "deference" — probably more often than you'd have guessed.
Second, the people you respond to this way will start hedging less. Not because you overtly told them to change. But because their nervous system will clock that your nervous system can handle — and may even welcome — their full intelligence and presence.
In other words, your work isn’t making them more confident. It’s becoming a receiver who doesn’t need their confidence to register — and honor — their signal.
Back to Bach
Three years after that letter, Bach got his court composer title. Augustus had read past the self-deprecation and recognized the Mass in B minor for the transcendent achievement that it was.
Whose hedge have you been taking at face value? And what might that person be able to tell you when you create the conditions that encourage and reward their full-throated transmission?
This is the kind of thing I work on with founders and senior executives one-on-one. If you've spotted yourself in this piece and want to think it through together, message me on LinkedIn or hit me up at HowieJacobson.com.
