As the conversation ping ponged around the conference table, I was fixated on an issue that seemed obvious to me. The longer they talked, the more I thought about the gaping hole I saw in the deal. But what did I know? Everyone in the room had been doing this much longer than me and none of them saw this as a material issue.

I was close to speaking up a few times. Enough so that my blood pressure rose and I felt the nervous flush spread down my limbs. Yet each time I swallowed the words. I had to be wrong. I was sure of it.

“I’ve got something I just can’t get my head around,” Stacey said. “Are we not concerned about the creeping revenue concentration with their top two customers? And, that they’re becoming more reliant on the top customer every year? If you look at the trend over the last five years, it’s hard to ignore. Within all the stress testing models, gross margin pressure appears to be a risk that could cause them considerable trouble. If, or when, this top customer starts putting pressure on them from a pricing standpoint, I think this will really impact them. I don’t think we’re giving that enough consideration”. She sounded like an economics professor throwing her students a bone on a problem they weren’t grasping.

Everyone at the table sat dumbfounded for a moment, or at least everyone except me. Stacey had just made the exact point I’d been mulling for the past 30 minutes. Each member of the committee processed her comments and factored them into their current opinion on the deal. It was an element that couldn’t be mitigated and was impossible to ignore. This was a game changer and they all knew it. The course of the discussion shifted and what had been a path to approval soon became a ten minute confirmation by the committee about why we couldn’t proceed with the deal. We’d dodged a bullet and we had Stacey to thank.

As the meeting adjourned, Stacey was complimented for her insight. She basked in the glory. I thought about why I hadn’t spoken up. I was smart and knowledgeable. I saw an issue and should have raised my hand. But, instead I’d sat quietly, scared I’d be wrong and look foolish.

Today wasn’t the first time this had happened. Not this exact thing and not always in a work setting, but this type of thing had happened before. Plenty of times I’d cowered from speaking up or from asking a question. And for what? So that I wouldn’t be embarrassed? So that people wouldn’t know I didn’t have all the answers?

There’s a saying that it’s far better to remain silent and be thought a fool, than to open one’s mouth and remove all doubt. This may work as a tactical solution, but it shouldn’t be your strategic philosophy. From my experience, it’s better to open your mouth. Be bold. Voice your opinion. Yes, there is a chance you’ll be thought a fool because despite what you’ve heard, there are such things as stupid questions. But, that’s ok. Because nine out of ten times your question won’t be stupid. Quite often it’ll be the same thing everyone else is afraid to ask. And, if nothing else, you’ll be the one who had the nerve to step out while those around you didn’t.

So, speak up. Be polite, but speak up. Share your ideas. Learn new things. Don’t be intimidated. You’ve got too much to say.