Knowledge, upskilling, strong communication, and a good stack of soft skills; everyone talks about these as keys to career growth. And they’re right.
But there’s a very specific moment where all of that gets tested. It happens in a place many of us live in daily: LinkedIn, Slack, mailing lists, internal forums, you name it.
You’re scrolling, and you see a post or article that’s polished, clear, and seemingly correct in syntax and semantics. It sounds like it knows what it’s talking about.
And yet… it clashes with your empirical knowledge and established use cases.
You’ve done this in real life. You’ve run the networks, built the systems, lived through the incidents. Your first instinct is:
“This is wrong. This person is dreaming. Let me fix this.”
Your fingers hover over the keyboard. You’re ready to type a mini-thesis on why the author is mistaken, naïve, or oversimplifying. Bonus points for a bit of sarcasm, right?
That moment—right there—is where careers quietly diverge.
Some people fire off the reply. Others pause, zoom out, and treat this as a chance to learn, test their own thinking, and show up as adults in a professional community.
The difference between those two groups has a lot less to do with raw knowledge and a lot more to do with how they handle ideas that don’t fit their current worldview.
Let’s talk about that.
When Your Experience Becomes a Cage
If you’ve been around the block a few times, your experience is hard-earned.
You’ve deployed real changes on real networks. You’ve burned nights and weekends bringing systems back from the brink, and you’ve seen what actually fails in production versus what looks beautiful on a diagram.
That empirical and tacit knowledge is valuable. It’s your edge.
But there’s a quiet trap hidden inside that experience:
“If I haven’t seen it work in my environment, it can’t be valid.”
From there, the slide is easy:
Posts that describe patterns you haven’t used = theory.
Ideas from different scales or contexts = overcomplicated nonsense.
Ambitious approaches = someone dreaming too big.
You see something that doesn’t match your mental model, and your brain labels it as “wrong” before you’ve even finished reading.
The irony? Sometimes the post is partially wrong. Sometimes the context really doesn’t map to your world. Sometimes the author is missing important constraints.
But if your default mode is instant refutation, you never find out which is which. You never get to ask:
“What problem are they actually solving?”
“Is there a scenario where this does make sense?”
“What am I missing about their environment, or about mine?”
Your experience turns from a lens into a cage.
The Pause: Step Back Before You Refute
Here’s a very small habit that changes everything:
Before you clap back, pause.
Whenever you come across a post that feels off, even if every fiber of your being is screaming, “This is not how it works!” give yourself a few extra seconds:
Don’t comment immediately.
Don’t start mentally composing a takedown while you’re still halfway through the text.
Don’t skim three lines and assume you know the whole story.
Instead, finish the post and then ask yourself a simple question:
“What is this person actually trying to say?”
Not “what did I emotionally react to?”
Not “what’s the easiest sentence to attack?”
The actual core claim.
Sometimes you will still disagree, and that’s fine.
But even that disagreement will be more precise, more helpful, and more respectful if it’s based on the whole idea, not just on the part that tripped your internal alarm.
Rather than refuting or digging your heels in out of habit, step back and view it holistically. Does it hold up under a calm read? Is there something clever in how they frame things, even if the conclusion doesn’t fit your world?
You don’t lose anything by pausing. You’re not giving up technical ground. You’re just taking the time to think like a professional instead of reacting like a reflex.
Learning from Posts You Don’t Fully Agree With
There’s a fascinating thing that happens when you approach “suspicious” posts with curiosity instead of contempt:
You start to find value in things you initially wanted to dismiss.
No, that doesn’t mean you blindly accept every hot take on the internet. It means you look for what you can extract, even when you end up disagreeing.
For example, a post might give you:
A new way of explaining a concept you already understand. Maybe you’ve been describing OSPF, BGP, automation, and cloud networking one way for years, and this post gives you a metaphor or framing that clicks for people with a different background.
Insight into another context. Maybe the idea makes no sense at your scale, but works just fine in a smaller, simpler environment, or the other way around. Understanding why can sharpen your own design instincts.
A fresh perspective on tradeoffs. Even if you’d never deploy that solution, seeing how someone weighs complexity vs. speed vs. cost could highlight blind spots in your thinking.
You could be missing a chance to see something you already understand from a new and intriguing angle.
And even if, after careful thought, you decide to stick with your methods and standards, you’ve still invested in your growth:
You compared their idea against your reality.
You verified your assumptions instead of just relying on memory or habit.
You built a more robust argument for why your approach is better in your context.
That’s not a weakness. That’s what it looks like to be a serious professional.
Curiosity + Respect: The Soft Skills That Actually Matter
Everyone says “soft skills matter.” Let’s get specific about which ones we’re talking about here:
Intellectual humility: acknowledging that your knowledge, while strong, is incomplete.
Curiosity: wanting to understand why someone sees the world differently.
Respect: treating other people’s contributions as worthy of thoughtful evaluation, not instant dismissal.
Communication discipline: choosing words that build understanding rather than just scoring points.
When you evaluate a post thoughtfully before hammering out a reply, you’re practicing all of these.
Look at it from the outside for a second.
Two engineers read the same post:
Engineer A responds: “This is wrong, here’s why,” with a slightly condescending tone, no questions asked, no context given.
Engineer B responds: “Interesting perspective. In my experience with [context], we’ve seen [X]. I’m curious: in your environment, how do you handle [Y]?” Then maybe adds a respectful, concrete technical challenge.
Which one would you want on your team?
Which one would you trust to represent your company in front of customers?
Which one would you bet on for a leadership or principal role?
Even if Engineer A is technically correct on most points, their pattern, reflexively dismissive, closed, impatient, sends a clear message: they’re hard to collaborate with.
Engineer B might disagree just as strongly, but does so in a way that keeps the door open. They signal:
“I’m confident, but I’m not fragile.”
“I have experience, but I’m willing to listen.”
“I want to contribute, not just win arguments.”
That, my friends, embodies the spirit of open-minded curiosity combined with respect for the community that shares their thoughts and experiences every day.
It’s also the kind of behavior that quietly unlocks opportunities.
A Simple Framework for Engaging with Challenging Content
Let’s make this practical. Next time a post or article rubs you the wrong way, try this mini-framework:
1. Read fully, not selectively.
Finish the post. Don’t stop at the first sentence that irritates you. You can’t fairly judge an argument you haven’t fully seen.
2. Assume good intent (unless there’s clear evidence otherwise).
Start from the premise that the author is trying to contribute, share, or explore, not to mislead or waste your time.
3. Identify the core claim.
In your own words, summarize: “They’re essentially saying X.” If you can’t do that clearly, you’re not ready to respond.
4. Map it to your context.
Ask: “In the environments I work with, would X still hold? Under which constraints does it break?” Separate “this is false” from “this doesn’t fit my world.”
5. Choose a response mode: learn, ask, or gently challenge.
Learn:
“Huh, I hadn’t considered it from that angle. I’m going to think more about this.”Ask:
“Interesting. In what kind of environment/topology/team have you applied this? Can you share more details?”Challenge:
“In my experience with [scale / constraints], we’ve seen [different behavior]. Have you run into [scenario]?”
6. Leave the door open.
Even if you firmly disagree, respond in a way that doesn’t humiliate or shut down the other person. You’re talking to a human being who took the time to share something.
This doesn’t mean being fake or overly diplomatic. It means disagreeing constructively.
The Long Game: Amazing Outcomes Start with Small Reactions
Who knows? You might find yourself on a path that leads to amazing outcomes because you chose curiosity over reflex.
Maybe the person whose post you nearly mocked ends up being a future collaborator.
Maybe someone reading your respectful, thoughtful reply recommends you for a role.
Maybe a new mental model you picked up in a post you initially disliked ends up saving you hours in a future design or troubleshooting session.
Or maybe nothing dramatic happens at all.
But over time, the pattern adds up:
You grow faster because you’re constantly cross-checking your experience against fresh perspectives.
You build a reputation as someone who’s both technically solid and emotionally mature.
You find yourself less angry at “the internet” and more engaged in learning and contributing.
Knowledge, upskilling, and solid communication are non-negotiables.
How you react when your knowledge is challenged determines whether those foundations turn into a career that compounds or a wall you build around yourself.
So next time you’re tempted to hammer out a sarcastic reply, take a breath.
Be kind.
Stay open-minded.
And keep that curiosity alive.
You might just discover that the posts you almost dismissed are the ones that end up changing you the most.
Leonardo Furtado