
AI and Talent Development: What Gets Lost
October 7, 2026
Board Communication Discipline: When to Speak Up
Radio Silence: What F1 Teams Choose Not to Say Over the Team Radio
Every word a race engineer says to a driver over the radio is accessible to the FIA and to broadcasters. There’s no private channel between car and pit wall — anything said may become part of the public record of the race.
What’s notable isn’t that the channel is open. It’s what teams choose not to say, even knowing it’s being heard.
At any given moment during a race, the team knows vastly more than the driver can see. Tire degradation numbers. The gap to the car behind. Fuel load, weather radar, the rival’s pit window, the strategy about to be deployed and the alternatives held in reserve. Most of that reaches the driver, if it reaches them at all, through the race engineer, who functions less as an information source and more as a filter between everything the team knows and what the driver, at this exact moment, can actually use.
The choice isn’t whether to share the information. The choice is whether sharing it right now helps.
A driver wheel-to-wheel through a fast corner, managing a degrading tire at the limit of grip, defending against a car closing at two seconds a lap, doesn’t need to know that the gap to third place is four seconds and narrowing. That information is accurate. It doesn’t change what the driver can do in the next thirty seconds. It adds to a cognitive load that’s already at capacity, drivers have talked about exactly this burden when radio rules have changed and more had to be tracked without a prompt.
The discipline is knowing when accurate information becomes interference, not noise, because the information hasn’t stopped being true or useful. It’s arrived at a moment when receiving it costs more than it delivers.
Board Communication Discipline: What Most Organizations Get Wrong About This
Most organizations aren’t built around that discipline. The instinct, when you have relevant information, is to surface it. Transparency gets treated as an unqualified virtue in how organizations communicate — and in a real sense it should be. But transparency answers whether information is accessible. It doesn’t answer when it should enter a decision, or in what form.
Those are different questions, and conflating them is where the discipline breaks down.
I’ve sat in enough board conversations to have a sense of what happens when they’re conflated. The CEO makes a decision, the leadership team moves into execution — and then the CEO adds a qualification. Not reversing the decision. Not materially changing it. Just surfacing ambiguity the team thought had already been resolved. Nothing about the decision has actually changed. But now nobody’s sure whether it has, and the team spends real time and attention re-establishing something that was already settled ten minutes earlier.
That’s not transparency. It’s a decision that remains executable only as long as nothing communicated afterward makes its boundaries ambiguous again.
Where the Board Analogy Gets Complicated
Boards raise a harder version of this problem, and it’s worth being precise about it, because the easy version of this argument, a board member raises a concern right after the CEO has committed to a course of action, the timing makes it noise, is wrong more often than it’s right.
Sometimes that timing genuinely is noise. Sometimes it’s exactly what a board is obligated to do.
If the concern touches material risk, a fiduciary question, legality, solvency, or a strategic assumption the board didn’t previously have visibility into, the fact that management has already moved into execution doesn’t make the concern less urgent. It may make it more urgent. A board that stays quiet during execution purely to protect the CEO’s focus isn’t practicing communication discipline. It’s failing at governance.
The real question isn’t whether new information arrives at an inconvenient moment. It’s whether the information changes the action.
That’s the standard a race engineer actually uses, and it’s more useful than anything about timing alone. If weather radar shows rain arriving in three minutes, the engineer interrupts immediately, that’s disruptive information, and it’s also actionable, so it gets said regardless of what the driver is doing at that instant. If a competitor eight positions back has adjusted their wing angle, that’s interesting, verified, and true. It’s also irrelevant to what the driver needs to do in the next thirty seconds. So it waits, or it never gets said at all.
The discipline isn’t minimalism. It’s actionability under current conditions.
Four Modes, Not One Rule
This suggests something more useful than “communicate less” or “communicate more” — a set of modes, and clarity about which one an organization is currently operating in.
During deliberation, before a decision is made, the standard should be maximum challenge. Raise everything. Push on every assumption. This is exactly the wrong moment for restraint.
During decision, the standard is clarity. The ambiguity gets resolved, the boundary gets set, and everyone involved needs to walk away from that moment agreeing on what was decided.
During execution, the standard shifts. New information gets communicated when — and only when — it changes what the person acting needs to do right now. Everything else gets captured, not discarded, for the moment when it’s actually useful.
During review, after the fact, the standard flips back toward aggressive reopening. This is where the concern that got tabled during execution gets its full hearing. This is where assumptions get tested against what actually happened.
Most organizations have channels for moving information around. Far fewer have anything resembling explicit agreement about which of these four modes they’re currently in, or what threshold of new information is significant enough to justify reopening a decision that’s already in motion.
That’s the actual gap. Not a shortage of communication. A shortage of shared rules about when communication should interrupt versus wait.
Board Communication Discipline: The Cost Nobody Tracks
There’s an asymmetry worth naming plainly: withholding information has real costs too. Surprise. Erosion of trust. Governance failures when something material genuinely should have surfaced sooner and didn’t. This isn’t an argument that silence is sophisticated. It’s an argument that communication carries both an information value and a timing cost, and organizations are generally much better at measuring the first than the second.
Race engineers who’ve worked with the same driver for years develop a feel for the difference, not as a natural talent, but as something built from watching what happens when they get it wrong. Say too much during a critical lap, and the driver loses focus at the exact moment it matters most. Say too little when conditions genuinely changed, and the driver is caught off guard by something the team knew and didn’t share.
Most boards and leadership teams never get that same feedback loop. They know what they communicated. They rarely learn what it cost, the attention it pulled, the rework it triggered, the confidence in a decision that quietly eroded because someone reopened it without meaning to.
The question worth asking, in a boardroom or over a live radio channel, isn’t whether a piece of information is true, or important, or worth saying eventually.
It’s whether it changes what the person needs to do right now. If it does, say it — immediately, regardless of what else is happening. If it doesn’t, it isn’t being suppressed. It’s waiting for the moment when it will actually be heard.
Charlie Solorzano is Managing Partner at Alder Koten, an executive search firm focused on C-suite and board leadership across the U.S. and Mexico. He advises founders, investors, family businesses and boards on executive search in Mexico, U.S.–Mexico cross-border leadership, succession and leadership transitions. His work is based by The Race Conditions Model™, which examines the environment an executive will enter, and The Driver Calibration™, which examines how that executive operates within those conditions.
Does Your Board Know Which Mode It’s Operating In?
Deliberation, decision, execution, review — each calls for a different communication standard. Let’s talk about where your board might be blurring the lines.
Schedule a Confidential ConsultationWhat is board communication discipline?
It’s the practice of matching what gets said to which phase a decision is in — deliberation, decision, execution, or review — rather than treating transparency as an unqualified rule that applies the same way at every moment.
Isn’t withholding information from a board always a governance risk?
Withholding real, actionable information is. But not every true statement needs to be said the instant it’s known. The standard isn’t whether information is accurate — it’s whether it changes what the person acting needs to do right now.
Is it wrong for a board member to raise a concern right after a decision is made?
Not necessarily. If the concern touches material risk, a fiduciary question, legality, or a strategic assumption the board didn’t previously have visibility into, raising it during execution isn’t disruptive noise — it’s exactly what governance requires, even if the timing is inconvenient.
What are the four communication modes an organization should distinguish?
Deliberation, where the standard is maximum challenge and every assumption should be pushed on; decision, where ambiguity gets resolved and everyone agrees on what was decided; execution, where new information is shared only when it changes the immediate action; and review, where tabled concerns get their full hearing.
How can a board tell whether new information should interrupt an in-progress decision?
Ask whether the information changes what the person acting needs to do right now. If it does, it should be raised immediately regardless of timing. If it doesn’t, it isn’t being suppressed — it’s being held for the review stage, when it can be properly addressed.




