Rejection to Recognition – Lead Through Ambiguity Infographic
First Stop: Rejection
We’ve all been there. We walk into a meeting ready to pitch a bold idea—something fresh, strategic, transformative. We’ve done the research, thought through the angles, and built a story we believe in. But as we share it with the team, the energy shifts.
Someone frowns. Another person references a failed project from a few years back. A third says, “That doesn’t sound like us.” 
Suddenly, what we hoped would be a moment of inspiration starts to feel like a wall of resistance or–gulp–rejection.
It’s easy to take this personally. We may feel like the idea is being dismissed—or worse, like we’re being dismissed. But what if that friction isn’t rejection? What if it’s something more useful, more constructive, and more deeply human?
According to psychologist Jerome Bruner, before we can grasp what something is, we often have to sort through what it is not. It’s a fundamental part of how we learn. When we introduce a new idea, people rarely latch onto it immediately.
Instead, they begin mentally testing it—asking questions, poking at the boundaries, discarding what doesn’t fit. That process can look and feel like disagreement, but it’s actually a sign of engagement.
In this article, we’ll explore how Bruner’s Concept Attainment Theory gives us a more accurate and generous way to interpret those moments of ambiguity. We’ll look at how we can lead better—not by demanding immediate clarity, but by guiding our teams through the messier, more honest process of meaning-making.
The Problem with Perception
In fast-moving organizations, ideas are everything—but they’re also fragile. When we share a new strategy, pitch a product concept, or roll out a cultural shift, we hope for quick alignment. We want people to light up with curiosity or lean in with confidence. When they don’t, it stings.
Sometimes the reaction is subtle: a raised eyebrow, a shift in tone, a quiet “hmm.” Other times it’s more direct:
“That’s not how we’ve done things.”
“Didn’t we try that already?”
“I’m not sure this makes sense for our customers.”
It’s natural for us to interpret those responses as negative—maybe even as rejection. And once we do, it sets off a chain reaction. We may start defending the idea more forcefully, over-explaining, or trying to “win” the room instead of engaging with it. Worse, we might start seeing the people in the room as blockers rather than collaborators.
But when we respond this way, we miss what’s really happening.
Most of us don’t instantly internalize new concepts. When someone introduces something unfamiliar—especially something abstract or layered—we need time to sort it out. And the first step in that sorting process is often subtraction. We test the idea by identifying what it isn’t. We eliminate. We clarify by contrast.
This isn’t resistance—it’s recognition unfolding.
That distinction matters. If we treat those early reactions as rejection, we may shut down conversations before they have a chance to mature. But if we recognize them as the beginning of understanding, we create space for genuine learning and alignment.
Leading through ambiguity means recognizing when our teams are not saying “no” to the idea—but rather, working their way toward yes, one distinction at a time.
Bruner’s Concept Attainment Theory (in Simple Terms)
Long before we were trying to align teams or attain buy-in around bold strategies, psychologist Jerome Bruner was asking a simple but profound question: How do people actually learn something new?
What he found has deep implications for leadership. We don’t absorb new concepts by hearing the right explanation. We construct them—by noticing what fits and, just as importantly, what doesn’t.
Bruner’s Concept Attainment Theory rests on a deceptively simple idea:
We often figure out what something is by first understanding what it is not.
That’s not a flaw in how we think—it’s a feature of how our brains make meaning.
In this model, we learn by comparing examples and non-examples.
Suppose we’re teaching the idea of quantum theory. Rather than starting with a physics textbook definition, we explore a few thought experiments and principles: some that align with quantum theory, some that don’t. As we sift through them, we start spotting patterns: “Okay, it’s not just tiny particles… it’s not about classical cause-and-effect… oh—it’s about probabilities, uncertainty, and the idea that observation affects outcomes.”
Through that contrast, we begin to build the definition ourselves. We don’t just receive the concept—we form it. That process of sorting, testing, and refining is how we come to understand new ideas at a deeper level.
Now think about how this plays out at work. When we introduce a new strategic direction—maybe we’re rolling out “customer-first thinking” or defining a new brand promise—our teams don’t instantly grasp what we mean. Instead, they start with boundaries:
- “Does this mean the customer is always right?”
- “Are we allowed to say no?”
- “Is this about service? Design? Personalization?”
These aren’t objections. They’re signals that people are engaging with the idea. They’re trying to locate it by identifying what falls outside it. That’s concept attainment in action.
Bruner showed us that this kind of inductive learning—where we build understanding by working through examples and counterexamples—isn’t just powerful, it’s our default. We don’t leap straight to clarity. We get there by exploring what doesn’t work, doesn’t fit, or doesn’t feel right.
As leaders, this changes how we interpret uncertainty. When a new idea sparks confusion, contradiction, or pushback, it’s not a sign we’ve failed to communicate. It’s a sign our people are learning—grappling with the edges of the concept, refining their mental model, and moving toward clarity.
If we can hold that lens, we’ll start seeing resistance not as rejection—but as recognition unfolding.
Recognizing the Learning Moment
When we introduce a new idea to a group—especially one that asks people to stretch their thinking or shift their assumptions—we often brace ourselves for resistance. But what we’re really seeing in those moments may be something far more valuable: a learning moment in progress.
If we apply Bruner’s lens, we start to notice a pattern. Before people confirm that they understand or accept a concept, they tend to question it, misinterpret it, or test its boundaries. That initial friction—whether it’s confusion, hesitation, or contradiction—is not a sign that the idea has failed. It’s a sign that the audience is engaging in concept differentiation.
We’ve likely seen this unfold in meetings or workshops:
- Someone says, “That sounds like what we tried last year, and it didn’t work.”
- Another asks, “Is this just another version of what we are already doing?”
- A team member seems skeptical but stays quiet, processing.
At first glance, this looks like doubt. But if we listen closely, we realize they’re trying to locate the concept. They’re scanning their mental models, comparing this new input to prior experiences, and identifying where the edges are.
That process—the sorting, the testing, the skepticism—is where understanding begins.
If we misread it as rejection, we may pull back, defend the idea too rigidly, or even shut down the conversation. But if we recognize it for what it is, we can stay grounded and help the team move through the learning curve together.
Here’s the shift we can make:
Instead of thinking, “They’re pushing back,” we can think, “They’re working it out.”
We can even look for specific signs that a learning moment is unfolding:
- Boundary questions: “Does this mean we no longer do X?”
- Analogies: “So it’s kind of like when we…”
- Contrasts: “That doesn’t sound like what we’ve done before.”
These responses aren’t derailments—they’re acts of meaning-making. They’re the verbal cues that the concept is alive in the room, even if it hasn’t yet taken shape.
As leaders, our job in those moments isn’t to convince. It’s to support. To hold space for the tension of not-yet-knowing. To help the group refine their understanding without needing to rush toward agreement.
Because when we honor the process of learning, we invite deeper alignment. And that alignment, once it’s earned, is far more powerful than surface-level consensus.
Five Ways to Lead Through Concept Formation
Recognizing that our teams learn new ideas the way we all do—by sorting through what an idea is not—gives us a powerful shift in how we present, respond, and lead. Rather than striving for instant clarity or blanket agreement, we can lean into the natural ambiguity of learning and guide people through the formation of understanding.
Here are five ways we can lead more effectively through that process:
1. Introduce Non-Examples Proactively
Suggestion: Explicitly share what the idea doesn’t mean. This cuts through assumptions and accelerates clarity.
2. Narrate the Edges of the Concept
Suggestion: Draw the line around what fits and what doesn’t. Boundaries build understanding faster than definitions alone.
3. Respond with Curiosity, Not Correction
Suggestion: Treat questions and confusion as signs of engagement, not incompetence. Lean into them to explore what’s not yet clear.
4. Use Analogies and Prototypes
Suggestion: Anchor abstract ideas in partial examples or stories. Let the group critique and refine the comparison—it builds the mental model.
5. Facilitate “What Would It Look Like If…” Discussions
Suggestion: Ground the concept in reality by asking the team to imagine how it plays out in specific scenarios. This invites exploration and ownership.
By leading this way—patiently, curiously, and contextually—we don’t just teach ideas. We build shared understanding. We create conditions where learning becomes safe, and ambiguity becomes a doorway, not a dead end.
The Risk of Misreading Ambiguity
When we misunderstand ambiguity as rejection, we don’t just derail conversations—we risk undermining the very conditions that allow learning, collaboration, and innovation to thrive.
We’ve all seen it happen. A leader introduces a new initiative and, when the room doesn’t immediately light up with praise, doubles down. Questions are taken as criticism. Disagreement is treated as resistance. Pretty soon, the team stops engaging—not because they’ve aligned, but because they’ve learned that ambiguity isn’t welcome.
We start optimizing for harmony over honesty. We mistake silence for support. And we build cultures where ideas are only shared when they’re fully polished—stripped of the messiness that makes them adaptable and human.
When we misread those early, uncertain reactions—the “I’m not sure,” the “how would this work?”, the “but doesn’t that conflict with…”—we short-circuit the process of shared meaning-making. We take what is often a signal of cognitive engagement and treat it like a threat. And once that happens, the learning shuts down.
Teams quickly learn that the safest move is to smile and nod. But that nod is often masking confusion, skepticism, or unspoken insight that could make the idea stronger—if only we made space for it.
If we can’t sit with ambiguity, we can’t lead through change.
Because every meaningful shift—every new strategy, every culture evolution, every product reinvention—starts in the fog. There is no clear path from old to new. There’s only curiosity, feedback, and the willingness to be uncomfortable while a shared understanding takes shape.
Reframing Resistance as Recognition
When we shift our perspective from expecting immediate buy-in to guiding a process of shared understanding, everything changes. What once felt like rejection now reads as reflection. What once seemed like resistance becomes recognition in motion.
We stop taking ambiguity personally.
We stop demanding clarity before it’s earned.
And we begin to lead with a deeper respect for how people learn, process, and grow.
Bruner’s concept attainment theory reminds us that the path to understanding is rarely a straight line. It’s more often a winding road through contrast, tension, and trial-and-error. As leaders, our role isn’t to clear that road entirely, but to walk it with our teams—to make it safer to explore what doesn’t fit so that we can all see more clearly what does.
When a new idea sparks uncertainty, it’s not a signal to retreat. It’s a cue to lean in. The team isn’t pushing away the idea—they’re working to define it. They’re moving toward clarity, one boundary at a time.
So the next time we offer a new idea and hear “that’s not it,” we can take a breath. We can listen. We can invite more conversation.
Because maybe they’re not saying no at all.
Maybe they’re telling us:
“We’re almost there.”