CoS Playbooks

What You Don’t Say Is Also a Decision

Three weeks before a key hire fell through, the Chief of Staff already knew the signals were off. She had watched the candidate’s energy shift in the second interview, heard the hiring manager hesitate in how he described the offer call, noticed the CEO had not asked about the process in over a week, unusual for a role he had been treating as a priority. She said nothing. She was waiting for more certainty.

There is a kind of information management that looks, from the outside, like professionalism: not spreading unverified rumour, not raising alarms before you have anything real, exercising the discretion the job seems to demand. Sometimes that is exactly what it is. And sometimes it is avoidance with a better vocabulary. The Chief of Staff role runs on information the way an organisation runs on trust. You get updates from nearly every function, you sit in rooms where things are said off the record, you pick up the sidebar the CEO was never part of. What you do with all of it is, technically, the job, and nobody teaches you how to make the call. Most Chiefs of Staff build a rough instinct over time, calibrated partly by experience and partly by the memory of the last time they said something early and watched it land badly. The result is a filter nobody ever designed, living in one person’s judgement, working invisibly, with real costs in both directions.

The pattern that fails

Most Chiefs of Staff err toward too much silence, not too much noise. You learn quickly that there are categories of information the principal does not want informally, not yet, not in the middle of a Tuesday, so you hold things back until you have the full picture, until there is a solution to go with the problem, until the moment feels right. The right moment often never comes, because the full picture is also still arriving. In a May 2025 PwC survey, 57% of executives said they were missing opportunities because they could not decide fast enough.1 That is almost always read as a decision problem and rarely as an information-flow one, though the two are joined: a Chief of Staff who is systematically under-surfacing, with the best intentions, is compressing the decision window for the person they are paid to support. West Monroe found 73% of leaders estimate their organisations lose up to 5% of annual revenue to slow decisions and delayed execution.2

What to surface as Chief of Staff

Knowing what to surface as Chief of Staff, and when, is the central judgement call most people in the role answer on instinct. It does not have to be. The question is not only what you know; it is what your principal would need to know, and whether they could still act on it by the time you tell them. Four categories:

  • You both know it. Do not report it back. It is shared context, and naming it wastes their time.
  • You know it, they do not. This is the decision point. Run two tests. Timeliness: if they found out in three weeks, would there still be time to act? If not, it goes up now. Relevance: does it touch something they have flagged as a priority, a risk, or a relationship that matters to them? If yes, it goes up, even with the picture incomplete.
  • They think they know it, but what they have is wrong. The one most people dodge. Correcting a principal’s understanding is uncomfortable, more so when they got it through another channel. Let inaccurate information travel uncorrected and you are managing your own discomfort at the cost of their accuracy.
  • Neither of you knows yet. You have a signal you cannot quite read. Name it anyway: “I am not sure what this means yet, but I am watching it.” Certainty is not a condition for flagging uncertainty.

What to do this week

Look back over the last three weeks and find three pieces of information you absorbed without surfacing, not gossip, not operational noise, but real signal. For each, ask what you were waiting for: certainty, a solution, or for the conversation to feel safe. Then ask whether saying it sooner would have changed anything. The aim is not to swing the filter wide open. It is to understand your own system well enough to know when it is serving the work and when it is serving your nerves.

The Chief of Staff who protects the principal from every uncomfortable conversation is doing an easier version of the job than the one they were hired for. The sharpest information hygiene in this role lives in the gap between what you know and what you choose to say, and in being honest enough with yourself to tell when that gap is discretion and when it is something else.

Sources:
  1. PwC Executive Survey, May 2025[↩]
  2. West Monroe, November 2025[↩]

The Chief of Staff Corner

What You Don’t Say Is Also a Decision: What to Surface as Chief of Staff

Three weeks before a key hire fell through, the Chief of Staff already knew the signals were off. She’d seen the candidate’s energy shift in the second interview. She’d heard the hesitation in the hiring manager’s account of the offer call. The CEO, who’d been treating the role as a priority, hadn’t asked about the process in over a week. She said nothing. Deciding what to surface as Chief of Staff felt like a call she could make once she was more certain.

There’s a kind of information management that looks, from the outside, like professionalism. You don’t spread unverified rumour or raise alarms before you have anything real. You exercise the discretion the job seems to demand. Sometimes that’s exactly what you’re doing. Sometimes it’s avoidance with better vocabulary.

The role runs on information. Updates arrive from almost every function and things get said in rooms off the record. You also pick up the sidebar conversation the CEO wasn’t party to. What you do with all of it is, technically, your job, and nobody teaches you how to make the call. Most Chiefs of Staff develop a rough instinct over time. It’s calibrated partly by experience and partly by the memory of the last time they said something early and watched it land badly.

The result is a filter nobody ever designed. It lives invisibly in one person’s judgement, with real consequences in both directions.

The pattern that fails

The usual error runs towards silence. You learn fairly quickly that the principal doesn’t want to hear certain things, or not informally, or not in the middle of a Tuesday. So you hold things back until you have the full picture and a solution to go with the problem. The right moment rarely comes, because the full picture is still arriving.

In PwC’s May 2025 Pulse Survey, 57% of executives said they were missing opportunities because of slow decision-making.1 That’s usually framed as a prioritisation problem, though information flow sits right underneath it. A Chief of Staff who keeps under-surfacing signals, with the best intentions, is shrinking the decision window for the person they’re paid to support.

Why the filter tightens

Learned aversion is the obvious culprit. Say the last early warning went badly. The CEO dismissed it, or seemed irritated that you were worried about something unconfirmed, and the filter tightened.

Then there’s the solution requirement. Plenty of Chiefs of Staff believe, consciously or not, that information only belongs upstream if it arrives with a recommendation. The bar is too high. Early signals rarely come with clean solutions, and by the time the solution is obvious, the decision window may have closed.

And there’s self-preservation. Every escalation carries a small risk of being wrong. Surface a concern that comes to nothing and you look like someone who creates noise. Surface one the principal already knew about and you look uninformed. Saying nothing is the safe option, socially speaking. It’s also how critical information dies before it reaches the person who needed it.

What to surface as Chief of Staff: a framework

Knowing what to surface, and when, is the judgement call most people in this role make on instinct. A more deliberate version asks what your principal would need to know. Then it asks whether they could still act on it by the time you tell them.

Both of you know it. Don’t report it back. Repeating shared background only wastes their time.

You know it; they don’t. This is the decision point, and two tests settle it. Timeliness: if they found out in three weeks, would there still be time to act? If not, it goes upstream now. Relevance: does it touch something they’ve flagged as a priority, a risk or a relationship that matters to them? If so, it goes upstream, even with the picture incomplete.

They think they know it, and they’re wrong. This is the one most people avoid. Correcting a principal’s understanding is uncomfortable, especially when the wrong version reached them through someone else. Letting it travel uncorrected protects your comfort at the expense of their accuracy.

Neither of you knows yet. You’ve picked up a signal you can’t quite read. Name it anyway: “I’m not sure what this means yet, but I’m watching it.”

Try this this week

Look back over the last three weeks and pick out three things you absorbed without surfacing. Leave out gossip and operational noise; you’re looking for genuine signal. For each one, ask what you were waiting for: certainty, a solution, or for the conversation to feel safe. Then ask whether saying it sooner would have changed anything.

The aim is to know your own filter well enough to tell when it’s serving the work and when it’s serving your nerves.

When the hire fell through, everything the Chief of Staff had noticed was still accurate. She’d been holding it for three weeks while the window closed.

Sources:
  1. PwC, “100 days in: What’s next for business”, Pulse Survey, May 2025[↩]