A startup CEO sits in a particularly passionate leadership team meeting. The debate is heated but respectful. Two camps emerge — one pulling right, the other left.
Right argues for focus. Stick with the current products. No shiny objects. Squash known bugs. Kill inefficiencies. Act on the user research already in hand. Double down on customer success so users feel heard.
This is the “steady hand” path, and the benefits are clear: Internal teams would finally see their long-ignored issues get attention, and customers would notice. Not a seismic shift but a solid forward step.
Left wants to swing bigger. Inaction would leave them behind in a fast-moving market. There is a gap no one has filled — not them nor their competitors. The idea is ambitious. Unproven. Do we have the right product? Is our tech up to the challenge? Can we ship fast enough to matter?
To go this way means throwing almost all technical resources at it. Tech debt would spike. Existing customers might feel neglected. Revenue might wobble. But if it works, they’d be playing a far bigger game.
There is no clear answer. As with most startup decisions, the data is incomplete, the runway short, the resources finite. But the debate is done. The room is ready. Whatever the decision, the team will rally.
The CEO scans the room, clears his throat, and utters one of the most dangerous phrases in management:
“Let me think about it.”
The Cost of Waiting
Thinking, in itself, is good. Intentionality is a virtue. Slowing down to go fast is often a wise approach. But that’s not what’s happening here.
He’s hiding.
Behind the facade of reflection lies the truth: He doesn’t want to make the call. Not because he lacks data. Not because more thinking would yield a better answer. But because one side would be upset , and he hates that. The harmony addict clings to the fiction that leadership means pleasing everyone.
Raise your hand if you’ve worked for this person.
You know the signs. When a decision carries weight, when someone will be disappointed, this CEO ducks.
The phrases are predictable:
- “We should talk about it.”
- “We should think about it.”
- “Let’s take some time to review.”
Now, those sound harmless. But here’s what a CEO who understands their job might say:
- “Let’s discuss it in Thursday’s exec meeting. Expect a final call then.”
- “We should think it through and reconvene on Wednesday to decide.”
- “I need to mull it over. What’s our deadline for making the call? If I need more information from anyone in this room, I’ll be in touch by tomorrow.”
That’s leadership: creating space for nuance without dodging responsibility.
The other version? The one who waits? That leader isn’t protecting culture; they’re corroding it.
Should We or Shouldn’t We
One of the most common places founders get stuck is when they’re debating whether to let someone go. The instinct is clear: this person isn’t working out. But then the fear creeps in. What happens if they’re gone? How will we ship? Who will answer customer tickets? Who’s going to write the next thousand lines of code?
They imagine the pain of the firing, the exhausting search for a replacement, the time-suck of onboarding. They know the person is wrong for the company, but the discomfort of change feels worse than the cost of keeping them.
We’ve written about this before: founders have to avoid the messy middle. Either take real action to help that employee succeed, or build a plan to move on. But don’t sit in it. Don’t say “I’ll think about it” and pretend that’s leadership. It’s not. It’s avoidance.
And what founders often miss is that while they sit in that indecision, the rest of the team is watching. They see someone who’s underperforming, misaligned, or just not pulling their weight, still collecting a paycheck. Still in the meetings. Still slowing the team down. Whatever that person once contributed, the team sees what they’re doing now. And they take note.
Every day without action chips away at the credibility of the CEO. It tells the team that low standards are tolerated. That subtractors get to stay. That leadership sees the problem and won’t fix it.
And nothing kills morale faster than that.
The Job
The CEO’s role isn’t to eliminate conflict or blend every opinion into a bland compromise. It’s to navigate startup chaos with clarity and speed. Because the moment you say “Let me think about it,” the room stops moving…and so does the company.