Parts of this are almost certainly wrong

To get off on the wrong foot means to begin an activity, relationship or task unfavorably.

Something goes awry from the very beginning.

This phrase, like many idioms, has its origins in the military. A soldier’s right foot, both literally and figuratively, is the method of marching they’re trained to perform. If everyone doesn’t start on the right foot, the group will be out of step with each other. And the enemy will shoot them dead.

What’s fascinating is how negatively charged this phrase is. People will apologize to each other for getting off on the wrong foot, and sometimes even attempt to start over.

I’m sorry I spilled hot coffee on your crotch when I went to kiss your hand, your majesty. Can we try this again? What do you mean off with my head? But you haven’t even seen my coin trick yet!

Anyway, all royal rumbles aside, I have a thought experiment.

What if starting poorly wasn’t necessarily a bad thing? What if we made more room for forgiveness in our beginnings?

After all, most of our ideas are based on faulty assumptions in their nascent state. Of course they’re full of bugs. The real work is digging in to find out what’s wrong, and iterating our way to something right.

Musk founded three of the most successful companies in modern history. One was an electronic payment platform, one was a spacecraft organization, and the other was an electric car manufacturer.

He’s said in interviews for television and books that you essentially start off with an idea, and that idea is mostly wrong. And then you adapt that idea and keep refining it to make it better.

Elon says that it’s a physics thing. You’re taught to always question yourself, you’re taught to always assume that you’re wrong.

That might sound like a terrible case of negativity bias, but that’s a positive thing. There’s a combination of humility and trust required to get off on the wrong foot. You have to overcome your fear of failure, your fear of looking foolish, and push through the resistance. And you have to trust that your forward motion, albeit janky and imperfect, is productive.

I remind my coworkers of this all the time. Whenever we collaborate on project, my job as lead creative is almost always to make a first draft, version or iteration of something. Anything. If only to give team members something to react to.

I’ll often preface my delivery with, okay guys, here’s what I’ve put together so far. Parts of this are almost certainly wrong, so take a look, and together we’ll get it to version two, which will be much righter.

I’ve never had a negative response to this framing. Most people appreciate the candor, lower their expectations and throw in their two cents to make the work better. Because they know I’m not precious about version one.

What matters is moving the story forward to version two, three, four and so on until we eventually ship.

Are you willing to execute a little wrong footing for the purposes of progress?

If you’re a perfectionist, I’m sorry to say, this is going to be hard for you. People who insist on always putting their best foot forward usually end up putting no foot forward at all. They’re preoccupied with being perfect, so they avoid situations that might make them look bad.

Missing out on opportunities and experiences that would have been worth the effort if they pushed through.

It really breaks my heart. Fear talks them out of forward motion. Perfectionists become discouraged and wipe themselves out of the game before the second round begins. Robbing themselves of the chance to create value and feel fulfilled in their work.

If that describes you, it’s still possible to retrain your brain. And the wonderful scripture suggests, let us not despise the say of small beginnings, for the lord rejoices to see the work begin.

Even if you’re not sold on the whole omnipotent skydaddy thing, that principle still holds true. In fact, you can practice wrong footing in small ways. It’s resilience training. Pushing through your initial discomfort and eating that shit sandwich in the early stages, if only to make necessary progress.

As long as you’re being compassionate with yourself about subpar opening efforts, and as long as you trust your resources to be able to course correct, then there’s no reason you can’t build off what you’ve already done.

In my years as varsity golfer, maybe the only youth sport that I actually excelled at, our coach used to give us similar advice.

Don’t let a bad first drive set the tone for your day. If you shank a topper into the lake in front of a packed clubhouse on the first hole, take a slow, deep breath. It’s going to be a long day. There’s a whole lot of golf left. You’ll make it up later. Just keep moving forward.

Wow, that’s sage advice on the green and in the office. Maybe a little wrong footing is the only way to eventually get it right.

Unless you’re one of those geniuses who does everything perfect on the first go, in which case, I cast you to the bowels of hell.

What if you made more room for forgiveness in our beginnings?