When You Realize You've Been Adding Noise Instead of Creating Clarity

You're probably adding when you should be subtracting.

Whether you're leading a meeting or participating in one, most of us think our job is to add value—more input, more feedback, more involvement, more discussion. But sometimes the most powerful thing you can do is know when to subtract.

Think about your last few meetings. How much time was spent on:

• Context that everyone already understood?
• Input from people who didn't really need to weigh in?
• Discussion of topics that could have been handled with a quick email?
• Rehashing decisions that were already made?

You thought you were being thorough. You were actually creating noise that made it harder to hear the music.

A lesson from working with master arrangers:

Early in my career, I learned this lesson while working with Ralph Burns. I would marvel at how he was able to make his musical point with the fewest number of notes on the page. Conversely, I'd write elaborate arrangements with every instrument I could think of, trying to show off my skills and cover every possible musical angle.

By this time Billy Byers, my mentor, and I had become writing partners. He would look at my overstuffed scores and ask, "What would happen if you took out half of these instruments?" The result was always better—clearer, more focused, more powerful.

Less was more, but it took courage to leave things out.

You remember preparing for that important conversation.

You had so much context to share. So many considerations to mention. So many stakeholders to acknowledge. So many potential objections to address preemptively.

By the time you finished explaining everything, the main point got lost in all the setup.

You've experienced the power of strategic subtraction.

Maybe during a crisis when you had to cut straight to what mattered most. Or when you were forced to keep an update to two minutes and somehow communicated more effectively than usual.

Remember how much clearer everything felt when you removed the extra layers?

The overcrowded meeting syndrome:

Later in my career, working with David Foster on various projects, I watched him run incredibly efficient sessions. He'd cut agenda items that weren't essential. He'd limit who could speak when. He'd end discussions when the decision was clear.

At first, it felt abrupt. But the results were undeniable—more decisions, better focus, higher energy, greater respect for everyone's time.

You know what it's like when someone respects your time.

That leader who gets to the point quickly. Who cuts unnecessary context. Who includes only the people who need to be there. Who asks for your input only when it's actually needed.

You felt more engaged in those interactions, didn't you? More respected. More focused.

And you know what it's like when someone doesn't.

The meeting with twelve people where only three needed to contribute. The decision process that involved six steps when two would have been sufficient. The email chain that went on for days when a five-minute conversation would have resolved it.

You felt your attention drain away. Your engagement drop. Your respect for the process diminish.

You've caught yourself over-producing your own communications:

• Adding context that everyone already knows
• Including people who don't really need to be there
• Explaining your reasoning when the conclusion is what matters
• Apologizing for things that don't require apologies
• Hedging your language when you're actually confident

The producer's mindset:

When I started teaching, I learned to think like a record producer about my classes. What information was essential for students to understand? What examples actually served the learning objective? What activities moved us toward the goal versus what was just "nice to have"?

The result was clearer learning, better engagement, and more respect for students' time.

Try this with your next interaction:

Before you contribute to a meeting, ask yourself:

• What would happen if I said half as much?
• Is this input essential or just interesting?
• Am I adding signal or noise?
• Would the outcome be clearer without my contribution?

Your communication diet:

For the next week, practice strategic subtraction:

Monday: Cut all qualifiers from one important conversation. Instead of "I think maybe we should consider possibly changing this," say "We should change this."

Tuesday: In one email, delete everything that doesn't directly serve your main point. Send the shorter version.

Wednesday: In one meeting, resist the urge to add input unless it's truly essential. Notice what happens to the energy and focus.

Thursday: Have one conversation using half the words you normally would. Notice if your point comes across more clearly or less clearly.

Friday: Remove one agenda item from a meeting you're leading and handle it differently. See if the outcome improves.

The producer's paradox:

Here's what seems counterintuitive: by removing elements, you often make what remains more powerful.

When you cut the unnecessary context, your main point lands harder. When you remove the extra voices, the essential voices get heard more clearly. When you eliminate the nice-to-have agenda items, the must-have items get the attention they deserve.

The master's touch:

The greatest record producers are often invisible in the final product. You can't point to specific moments and say "that's where the producer added value." Instead, everything flows so naturally that it feels effortless.

The same is true for people who master strategic subtraction. Their teams don't notice what's missing—they just notice that everything feels clearer, decisions happen faster, and the important work gets the attention it deserves.

What are you ready to leave out?

Whether you're leading or participating, your job isn't to fill every silence, address every concern, or involve everyone in every decision.

Your job is to help create conditions where the most important music can be heard clearly.

What song are your interactions trying to play? And what do you need to cut so that song can be heard?