In public debate, in the media, and in our daily lives, they constantly appear: classic thinking errors that explain why people sometimes stubbornly cling to beliefs, make incorrect assessments, or continue to defend choices that no longer hold up. We easily recognize them in politicians, opinion makers, or “the other”. Less readily in ourselves.
But organizations do not exist outside human thinking. They are shaped by the same brains, the same emotions, the same need for certainty and consistency. What plays out in daily life therefore inevitably also finds its way into collaboration, decision-making, and strategy.
In this article, I reflect on four of the most common thinking errors and how they can manifest themselves in organizations. Not as spectacular missteps, but as subtle forces that provide direction without anyone intending it that way.
When success confirms itself
An organization that has delivered good work for years rightly builds confidence in its approach. Methods have been refined, partners are satisfied, and evaluations are positive. When the context then shifts – think: different subsidy rules, new expectations from target groups, or changing social sensitivities - the first reflex is rarely to question one’s own model. After all, the past feels like proof.
In meetings, you then hear phrases such as: “Our approach has been proven, hasn’t it?” or “We still get good feedback.” Critical signals are not ignored, but they are more quickly interpreted as exceptions, temporary noise, or implementation problems. Positive signals, on the other hand, confirm that the core is still sound.
What is at play here is what psychology calls confirmation bias : our tendency to mainly notice and value information that confirms what we already believe, and to give less weight to information that conflicts with it. The mechanism is efficient in itself; it protects us from constant doubt, but it comes at a price.
In organizations, it can lead to success no longer being tested, but assumed. The question subtly shifts from “under what circumstances does this work?” to “see, it still works, doesn’t it?” And that is exactly where the blind spot begins.
“Critical signals are not ignored, but they are more quickly interpreted as exceptions”
The price of not letting go
Sometimes that blind spot becomes visible in concrete projects. A new IT system, a reorganization, or an ambitious expansion of the offering. The start is hopeful and energetic. Investment is made in guidance, training, communication. But over time, doubts grow. The implementation requires more time and resources than expected, employees feel additional pressure, and the intended return remains vague.
Yet stopping is hardly discussed. Too much has already been invested, financially, but also emotionally. The board and management have expressed their commitment. Teams have invested time and belief. Turning back feels like a loss of face.
Another persistent pattern is at work here, known as the sunk cost fallacy. This is the tendency to let previous investments influence decisions about the future, even though rationally speaking they are no longer relevant.
The only question that should matter is: “Is this still the best choice today?” But in practice, it is displaced by: “Can we afford to stop this now?” The greater the investment, the stronger the urge to justify it. In this way, progress sometimes becomes primarily the defense of what has already happened.
“The only question that should matter is: "Is this still the best choice today?"”
What burns gets oxygen
Meanwhile, another phenomenon could just as easily occur within the same organization. Meetings are filled with what is recent and visible: a complaint from yesterday, a moment of tension in the team, an unexpected budgetary setback. They demand attention, and rightly so. But their visibility also gives them extra weight.
Quiet progress, improved collaboration, a process that is finally running smoothly, a new employee who is slowly growing into his role are given less space in the conversation. Not because it is unimportant, but because it is less noticeable.
Here we see the influence of what psychologists availability bias call: we estimate the importance or frequency of something as higher the more easily it can be recalled from our memory. What is recent, emotional, or striking seems more important than what is structural and less spectacular.
In organizations, this means that attention becomes a scarce and guiding resource. What is often named grows in significance. What is not repeated disappears from collective awareness, even when it is strategically decisive.
“We estimate the importance or frequency of something as higher the more easily it can be recalled from memory.”
The first version as a compass
And then there is another relatively new fixture in many organizations. A policy note needs to be written, a vision statement prepared, a grant application drafted. The first step is increasingly: consult an AI tool. Within minutes, a structured, clearly formulated text is on the table. The document looks professional and coherent.
What happens next is rarely a radical redesign. Teams begin deleting, refining, adding nuance. But the framework is already there. The first version serves as an anchor. It implicitly determines what is relevant, which order seems logical, which tone feels appropriate.
This phenomenon is known as automation bias: the tendency to place more trust in decisions or proposals from automated systems than in comparable input from people. Because the output is technologically generated and structured, it takes on an aura of objectivity. The risk is not that organizations uncritically adopt what the tool writes, but that they become less inclined to rethink the foundation itself. Thinking is optimized, but the starting point is rarely still fully questioned.
“Because the output is technologically generated and structured, it acquires an aura of objectivity.”
Steering more consciously
These four thinking patterns—seeking confirmation, holding on to previous investments, overestimating what is visible, and relying on automated output—are not signs of weakness. They are deeply human. But in organizations, where decisions have collective consequences, together they can form a powerful, invisible steering mechanism.
Awareness is therefore not an intellectual luxury, but a form of governance. Not to paralyze every decision with doubt, but to slow down from time to time and ask different questions. What information do we not voice enough? Which investment would we no longer make today? What receives disproportionately much attention? And who actually determines our starting point for thinking?
Organizations are shaped not only by their strategy and resources, but also by the way their people think. Those who recognize these underlying patterns increase the chance that choices not only seem logical, but also truly align with the future they want to build. As advisers, who enter organizations from the outside, we often have a slight head start in recognizing these patterns.
“Organizations are shaped not only by their strategy and resources, but also by the way their people think.”
