You know, it’s funny. Someone once told me I have a simplistic approach to issues, and at first, I took it the wrong way. It felt like they were saying I was naive or that my ideas were unsophisticated. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized they had stumbled upon a core principle I live by.
Being able to simplify isn’t a lack of understanding; it’s an indication of deep understanding.
Let me give you an example. My younger cousin used to have this old, rusty bike with a terrible squeak. Every time he rode it, it was this loud, grating noise. He and his friends tried all sorts of complex “fixes.” They wrapped the handlebars in tape, tightened every visible nut and bolt, and even tried to oil the chain with a messy mix of cooking oil. None of it worked. The squeak remained. They were attacking the symptoms, the noise, with complicated solutions, but they never got to the heart of the problem.
When I looked at it, I ignored all the noise and mess. And didn’t let myself get caught up in the dozens of things they had already tried. I simply focused on the core components of the bike that could be causing a persistent sound. After a few minutes, I noticed a tiny amount of rust where the seat post met the frame. I pulled out the seat post, wiped it clean, added a some drops of grease, and put it back. The squeak was gone.
The problem wasn’t a dozen issues; it was one. The squeak was just a symptom of that simple root cause.
This is what I mean when I say all problems ultimately have a simple root cause. When a problem appears complicated, it’s a sign that you haven’t done the root cause analysis yet. You’re still staring at all the symptoms, just like my cousin was staring at his bike.
So now, when someone calls my approach “simplistic,” I smile. It’s not an insult; it’s a testament to the work I’ve done to truly understand an issue. It means I’ve filtered through all the noise and distractions and found that one, single thing that, when fixed, solves everything else.