Clarity Beats Logic

We think we are guided by logic

In governance, people like to believe they are guided by logic. Boards deliberate. Committees debate. Policies are written as if they emerged from a clean chain of reasoning.

In real life, logic often trails behind decisions rather than leading them. We decide first, then reach for reasons that make the decision feel justified. At our best, when we are rested and attentive, we can see the gaps in our own reasoning and adjust our choices to fit the facts.

But most policy is not lived at our best. It is lived on autopilot, by people who are busy, tired, or under stress. When we are pressed for time or attention, we default to instinct and habit more than formal logic.

Boards partly exist to hedge this human limitation. A group is less likely than an individual to be logically blind in the same way at the same time. Collective process is meant to catch errors.

Once the board leaves the room, though, logic is no longer the main driver. What matters is whether the people who must live under a policy can understand it, remember it, and apply it without carrying the entire board discussion around in their heads.

The chopsticks rule: clarity without explanation

Living in Japan, I noticed how many social rules are clear and specific, even when the logic behind them is never explained. One simple example is the rule about chopsticks: do not leave your chopsticks stuck upright in a bowl of rice.

When I first learned that rule, nobody paused to explain why. It was given as a straightforward "do not". It was simple to remember and simple to follow. It was also clear enough that you could see, immediately, when someone had broken it.

Only many years later did I learn the deeper logic. That simple rule rests on more fundamental cultural expectations:

• Do not bring death into casual social settings, especially at the table.
• Upright chopsticks in rice look very similar to incense sticks standing in ashes at Buddhist funerals.

Seen with that context, the rule is not arbitrary. It protects guests from the shock or grief of being reminded of funerals at the dinner table. It also explains why the reasoning is rarely discussed in the moment: raising it explicitly would itself violate the deeper norm against talking about death in that setting.

Yet the rule works without that explanation. Many people who follow it may never articulate the underlying logic, and do not need to. The policy is clear, easy to teach, and easy to enforce socially. It blends into the background and quietly serves its protective purpose.

Policy that succeeds in theory but fails in practice

Corporate policy often moves in the opposite direction. A policy is drafted to be logically complete. It aims to cover every scenario, anticipate every edge case, and reconcile every stakeholder demand.

On paper, it may be impeccable. In practice, it fails because nobody can carry its structure in their head.

Consider a governance policy that is full of nested conditions, cross-references to other documents, and exceptions for every historical incident the organization has ever faced. It may pass a legal review and satisfy every committee member who argued for a particular clause. But when a real situation arises, the people on the front line have only a few seconds to decide what to do.

Under time pressure, they will not reconstruct the whole decision tree from first principles. They will follow what they remember and what feels safe. If the policy is too complex or opaque, it will be ignored, misapplied, or quietly sidestepped.

When setting policy, if you must choose, prioritize clarity over theoretical perfection. A policy that is 80% optimal but 100% understandable and followable will usually outperform one that is 100% coherent on paper but routinely misunderstood.

Logic has a place at design time. Clarity is what governs behaviour.

What makes a better policy?

From a governance perspective, a "better" policy is not the one that reads best in a board pack. It is the one that actually shapes behaviour in the direction the board intends. Three tests matter more than theoretical neatness.

It is followed. A policy that is not followed is, in effect, no policy at all. People should be able to restate the rule in a sentence and know what it asks of them in a typical situation. If you need a specialist to interpret it every time, it will fail at the edges, which is where risk tends to concentrate.

It is durable. A good policy blends into the background. People no longer debate it every week; they simply act as if "this is how we do things here". It survives leadership changes and reorganizations because it is easy to understand, not because one sponsor defends it. Like the chopsticks rule, it persists because it is simple, recognizable, and socially reinforced.

It addresses the problem or risk. Policies exist to manage specific risks or behaviours. The practical test is whether a policy reliably reduces that risk without generating so much friction that people route around it. A rule that neutralizes most of the risk and fits easily into daily routines is often more effective than a rule that neutralizes slightly more risk but is so complex that it is widely ignored.

Clarity as a governance choice

In governance, logic still matters. Boards should think carefully about the risks a policy is meant to address, the trade-offs it imposes, and the evidence that it works. But once the policy leaves the boardroom, its fate is decided by clarity.

Can a busy manager or employee understand it in a minute? Can they apply it when they are tired, distracted, or under pressure? Does it feel coherent enough that they do not resent it or feel compelled to work around it?

A simple, slightly imperfect rule that everyone understands and lives by will usually protect the organization better than a perfect rule that nobody can remember. In policy, as in culture, clarity beats logic when the two come into conflict.