In Right Kind of Wrong, Amy Edmondson dives deep into the science of failing well, offering readers an insightful guide for navigating failure with grace and intelligence. It’s not about avoiding failure—it’s about embracing it, learning from it, and creating systems that encourage the right kind of failure. In today’s world of rapid change and constant adaptation, Edmondson’s insights are not just timely—they are essential.
Edmondson introduces three types of failure: basic failures, complex failures, and intelligent failures. It’s the intelligent failures that are the most intriguing—these are failures that result from well-conceived experiments. They might not produce the desired outcomes, but they yield critical learnings that propel growth and innovation. This isn’t a breakthrough idea, but Edmondson makes it feel fresh by focusing on how to create an environment that celebrates the pivot and rewards the right kind of wrong—environments where intelligent failures are encouraged and embraced as stepping stones to success.
What particularly resonated with me is Edmondson’s focus on psychological safety. Teams that thrive aren’t those that avoid making mistakes—they’re the ones that report more mistakes. It’s a counterintuitive but deeply insightful idea: that creating an environment where failure is openly discussed, and where learning from it is prioritized over assigning blame, leads to fewer significant failures in the long run. I see this insight as crucial for anyone leading teams in complex, high-stakes environments.
In the book, Edmondson speaks about discernment—the wisdom to know when to keep pushing and when to change direction. She ends the book with a reference to the Serenity Prayer, emphasizing the need to recognize what can and cannot be changed. This wisdom is particularly valuable for anyone facing uncertainty. It’s the discernment that helps us balance grit with adaptability—knowing when to persist and when to pivot.
The stories Edmondson uses throughout the book make her arguments all the more compelling. One such story is about Barbe-Nicole Ponsardin (better known as Veuve Clicquot), who spent nearly a decade struggling to make her champagne business work after her husband’s death. It’s a story of persistence, of failure after failure, and ultimately of success—not because of a single lucky break, but because of the cumulative power of grit and learning from mistakes. This story resonated with me deeply, as it speaks to the often hidden, slow, and relentless journey that true success entails.
Edmondson also uses quotations to start each chapter—an element I particularly appreciate. From Billie Jean King’s wisdom that “losing is research” to Viktor Frankl’s insightful observation about the space between stimulus and response, these quotes provide a thoughtful framing that enhances each chapter’s core message. I’ve always been a fan of well-chosen quotes, and Edmondson uses them skillfully to draw readers into the concepts she’s exploring.
Another important theme in the book is resisting perfectionism. Edmondson emphasizes that perfectionism can be a barrier to growth—it prevents us from trying new things because we fear not being good enough. Instead, she advises us to aim for excellence and to celebrate progress over perfection. This idea of focusing on incremental improvement rather than an unattainable ideal is something I find both practical and liberating.
Right Kind of Wrong is a book for anyone interested in leadership, innovation, and personal growth. It’s a reminder that failure, when approached thoughtfully, isn’t something to fear—it’s something to harness. Edmondson provides both the practical advice and the mindset needed to turn failure into a powerful tool for learning and success. In a world where failure is inevitable, her insights are not just helpful—they’re transformational.
You can find this book at Rima's The Thinking Spot in Minnetonka, or support independent booksellers by purchasing it from bookshop.org. Either way, it’s a read that will encourage you to rethink your relationship with failure—and maybe, just maybe, help you thrive in a complex, ever-changing world.
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