A few years ago, I was having dinner with my kids when my younger son, still a pre-teen at the time, decided to dominate the conversation. He had an opinion on everything, spoke as if he had an endless reservoir of knowledge, and filled every silence with more words than necessary.
As much as I wanted to tell him to take a breath—or better yet, to pause and listen—I resisted. Instead, I tried a different approach.
“Son,” I began, “Do you want people to think you’re smart? Want them to actually notice and respect what you have to say?”
He paused for a moment, considering my question. He didn’t say no.
“Here’s a little secret,” I continued, lowering my voice slightly. “The less you talk, the smarter people think you are.”
I had hoped for a moment of reflection, maybe even a revelation. Instead, my son did what any self-respecting pre-teen would do—he argued with me.
The lesson was lost on him that night, but I was reminded of it again recently when I attended a networking meeting. The host, while introducing a fellow attendee, described him as a man who “talks the least, yet says the most.”
That simple statement carried weight. It spoke to humility, wisdom, and the power of measured speech.
It also made me reflect on times when I’ve spoken too much, especially in moments when I felt out of my depth. Sometimes, in an attempt to connect or contribute, I’ve said more than necessary—only to realize later that I revealed my own ignorance instead of my insight.
Humility teaches us that true wisdom isn’t found in how much we say, but in knowing when to speak and what words to choose. A well-placed sentence can carry more influence than an endless stream of chatter.
It’s a great reminder for each of us as well as our kids: perhaps the wisest among us aren’t the ones who know everything—but the ones who recognize that they don’t need to prove it.
