There is a quiet danger that creeps up on leaders as they rise through the ranks. It is not arrogance or complacency, though those can play a part. It is something far subtler, and far more insidious.
Kevin McCarthy calls it the expert fallacy.
When I sat down with Kevin on Future Fit Leadership, he shared a story that stays with you long after you have heard it. Here is a man who once found himself in prison for a crime he did not intend to commit, caught in the web of corporate fraud orchestrated by his boss. He was blindsided, humiliated, and stripped of everything he thought defined him. And yet, out of that collapse came extraordinary clarity about what it really means to lead, to see ourselves clearly, and to own the parts of us we would rather not.
One of Kevin’s most powerful insights is that the higher we go in leadership, the more blind spots we develop.
That sounds counterintuitive, doesn’t it? You would think experience makes us wiser, more attuned, more self-aware. But as Kevin explained, the opposite often happens.
The trap of expertise
“Senior leaders are most at risk,” Kevin told me. “The higher up we go, the more blind spots we develop.”
He calls this the expert fallacy, the mistaken belief that knowledge and experience protect us from error. In reality, they can make us less curious and less open to feedback.
Over time, success teaches us patterns. We start to see what works, and our brains love that sense of predictability. But those patterns become shortcuts, and those shortcuts become habits. Then one day, we stop noticing when the world shifts around us.
Kevin shared the story of an internal audit leader he once coached. She told him, “I’ve been doing this job long enough to know that everyone’s guilty.”
He laughed gently as he recounted it, but his point was sharp: that’s how blind spots form. When leaders start seeing the world through fixed assumptions, experience hardens into bias. We stop leading from curiosity and start leading from certainty, and that is when the cracks appear.
The perception gap
Kevin talks about something he calls the perception gap: the distance between what we believe to be true and what is actually happening.
In leadership, that gap can widen quietly. It is the CEO who thinks their people are thriving when in fact they are exhausted. The manager who believes they are approachable, yet their team finds them intimidating. The experienced executive who assumes their judgment is sound, because it always has been.
We stop checking in. We stop asking questions. We stop listening.
Kevin’s own life is a dramatic reminder of what can happen when that gap goes unchecked. He thought he was doing the right thing, helping a company prepare to go public. In reality, he was unknowingly part of a massive fraud. It was not intent that failed him. It was perception.
As he said in our conversation, “Your perception is your reality in the moment.” And that moment can be completely wrong.
The humility to ask, “How am I doing?”
One of the simplest and most confronting practices Kevin now teaches leaders is to ask, “How am I doing?”
At first glance, it sounds like a throwaway question. But if you ask it with honesty, and listen to the answers, it can change everything.
“Don’t just ask yourself,” he told me. “Ask others. Because if you’re the only one answering, it’s probably not true.”
It is a nudge toward humility. The kind that keeps us grounded when our titles and achievements threaten to lift us off the floor.
Kevin suggests using tools like 360-degree feedback or even informal check-ins to close that perception gap. The goal is not to prove you are right, it is to discover where you might be wrong.
The antidote to blind spots
Blind spots are not a flaw; they are part of being human. What matters is whether we build systems and habits that help us see around them.
Kevin’s antidote is beautifully simple: curiosity, vulnerability, and feedback.
Curiosity keeps us learning. Vulnerability keeps us connected. Feedback keeps us honest.
And that honesty, the willingness to look at yourself without defence, is what separates leaders who grow from those who calcify in their expertise.
Kevin said something in our conversation that still makes me pause: “You might as well tell people your blind spots, they already see them.”
There is truth and humour in that line, but also deep wisdom. When leaders admit their limitations, they create psychological safety for others to do the same. It is not weakness; it is leadership in its most human form.
Staying curious at the top
The expert fallacy is seductive because it feels like competence. It tells you that you have earned your place, that you know what you are doing. But the minute we believe we have seen it all, we stop seeing what is right in front of us.
Kevin’s story is a reminder that leadership is not about being the smartest person in the room. It is about being the most open, the most aware, and the most willing to learn, even when it is uncomfortable.
Because the moment you think you have nothing left to learn is the moment your blind spots take the wheel.
And as Kevin knows better than most, that is a road that can lead anywhere.
Key Takeaways
The higher you go, the more blind spots you have. Experience can cloud perspective if not balanced with self-awareness.
Expertise can quietly turn into arrogance or assumption. Stay curious.
Ask “How am I doing?” often, and let others answer honestly.
Curiosity, vulnerability, and feedback are the strongest antidotes to blind spots.
True leadership is not about knowing everything, but about staying open to what you might still need to learn.