“You’re using it wrong.”

The words left my mouth before I could stop them. My 2.5-year-old son froze, his small hands still gripping the toy he’d been manipulating in ways the manufacturer clearly never intended. His surprised expression—equal parts confusion and hurt—hit me like a punch to the gut.

In that moment, I realized I had just committed one of the most creativity-crushing acts possible: I had declared his exploration invalid simply because it didn’t match my preconceptions.

The Tyranny of “The Right Way”

Who was I to say he was using it wrong? He wasn’t hurting anyone or breaking anything. He was simply discovering what this object could do beyond its intended purpose. Maybe he was finding a better way. Maybe he was uncovering possibilities that the toy’s designer never imagined.

As I watched him hesitate, then slowly return to his exploration (thankfully, toddlers are more resilient than adults when it comes to creative confidence), I started thinking about how often we do this exact same thing in our professional lives.

The Comfort of Patterns

We fall into this trap constantly at work. We get so comfortable with our established processes, our proven methods, our “best practices,” that we unconsciously shut down alternative approaches before they can be fully explored. A new team member suggests a different way to organize files, and we immediately explain “how we do things here.” Someone proposes an unconventional solution to a recurring problem, and we list all the reasons why it won’t work—often without truly considering whether it might.

This isn’t malicious. It’s human nature. Patterns and habits serve us well—they create efficiency, reduce cognitive load, and provide predictable outcomes. When you know that Method A works reliably, there’s comfort in sticking with it. But this very comfort can become a prison.

The Innovation Paradox

The irony is that most organizations desperately want innovation while simultaneously creating environments that discourage it. We say we want fresh thinking, then respond to new ideas with “That’s not how we do it” or “We tried something similar before” or “That might work in theory, but…”

I’ve seen brilliant solutions dismissed because they didn’t follow established protocols. I’ve watched creative approaches get buried under layers of “the way it’s always been done.” And I’ve been guilty of it myself—politely explaining to colleagues why their “wrong” approach couldn’t possibly work, often before fully understanding what they were proposing.

The Child’s Mind Advantage

Children approach problems without the weight of accumulated assumptions. They don’t know what’s “supposed” to work, so they try everything. They don’t have mental models of how things should function, so they discover how they actually do function. They haven’t internalized the rules yet, so they’re free to break them accidentally—and sometimes brilliantly.

My son wasn’t using the toy wrong; he was using it without preconceptions. He was conducting experiments, testing hypotheses I would never think to form. His approach was pure exploration, uninhibited by the constraint of intended purpose.

This is exactly the mindset that leads to breakthrough innovations. The Post-it Note came from a “failed” adhesive that wasn’t strong enough for its intended purpose. The microwave was invented when an engineer noticed that radar equipment melted a chocolate bar in his pocket. Twitter emerged from a “wrong” use of SMS technology.

Reframing “Wrong”

Since that moment with my son, I’ve been trying to catch myself before I default to “that’s wrong.” Instead, I’m learning to ask different questions:

• What might they see that I don’t?
• How could this approach reveal new possibilities?
• What assumptions am I making about the “right” way?
• What would happen if we tried this unconventional method?

This doesn’t mean abandoning all standards or accepting every wild idea without evaluation. It means creating space for exploration before jumping to judgment. It means distinguishing between approaches that are truly problematic (unsafe, unethical, or destructive) and those that are simply unfamiliar.

The Fresh Eyes Phenomenon

We’ve all experienced this: a new colleague joins the team and within their first week asks, “Why do you do it this way?” Often, we struggle to provide a good answer beyond “That’s how it’s always been done.” Sometimes they suggest an alternative that makes us realize we’ve been making something much more complicated than it needs to be.

Fresh eyes don’t see the invisible walls that experience has built. They don’t automatically rule out approaches that we’ve unconsciously eliminated. They ask the questions we’ve stopped asking because we think we already know the answers.

Creating Space for “Wrong”

The challenge is building environments—both at work and at home—where “wrong” approaches can be explored safely. This means:

Delaying judgment. When someone proposes an unconventional approach, resist the urge to immediately point out why it won’t work. Ask them to explain their thinking first. Understand the logic behind their method.

Questioning our own certainty. When we catch ourselves saying “That’s wrong,” we can pause and ask, “Am I sure? What makes me so certain that this approach can’t work?”

Celebrating productive failure. When unconventional approaches don’t work out, we can treat them as valuable learning experiences rather than proof that we should have stuck with the traditional method.

Protecting exploration time. Innovation requires space to experiment with approaches that might not work. If every moment is optimized for efficiency, there’s no room for the “wrong” attempts that sometimes lead to breakthroughs.

The Wisdom of Beginners

There’s a Zen concept called “Shoshin” or “beginner’s mind”—approaching situations with openness and eagerness, free from preconceptions. It’s the mental state my son was in when he was “using the toy wrong.” It’s the state that allows us to see possibilities that experience has trained us to overlook.

The more expert we become in any field, the harder it becomes to maintain this beginner’s mind. Our knowledge becomes both an asset and a limitation. We know what works, but we also “know” what doesn’t—and sometimes we’re wrong about the latter.

A New Response

Now, when I see my son exploring something in an unexpected way, I’ve trained myself to pause before speaking. Instead of “You’re using it wrong,” I try to ask, “What are you discovering?” or “How does it work when you do it that way?”

The shift in his response has been remarkable. Instead of the surprised hurt that came with being corrected, I now see excitement about sharing his discoveries. He’s learning that his exploration has value, that his perspective matters, that there might be multiple “right” ways to approach any given challenge.

I’m trying to bring this same energy to my professional interactions. When someone suggests an approach that seems “wrong” to me, I’m learning to get curious rather than corrective. Sometimes their method doesn’t work—but sometimes it reveals possibilities I never would have considered.

The Innovation Invitation

Perhaps the most innovative thing we can do is to regularly question our own certainty about the “right” way to do things. To remember that every established best practice was once someone’s “wrong” experiment. To create space for approaches that seem backwards or sideways or completely upside-down.

Because the next breakthrough might come from someone who doesn’t know enough to know it’s impossible. Someone who’s “using it wrong” in exactly the right way.

The next time you catch yourself about to correct someone’s unconventional approach, pause for a moment. Ask yourself: what if they’re not doing it wrong? What if they’re doing it differently? And what if different is exactly what we need?