Advice is everywhere.
Parents give it.
Friends give it.
Managers give it.
Colleagues give it.
Successful people give it.
Strangers on social media give it.
And increasingly, AI gives it too.
While they are all well-intentioned, some advice is thoughtful, some comes from experience, and some is simply questionable. Whichever is the case, advice often comes with a problem that people overlook.
Even good advice has boundaries.
“Never give up.”
“Trust your gut.”
“Follow your passion.”
“Be yourself.”
“Don’t care what other people think.”
“Take risks.”
“Speak your mind.”
These statements can contain useful wisdom. But none tells you exactly when it applies, when it does not, or what circumstances might change the outcome. They matter because advice does not operate in a vacuum.
What works for one person, in one situation, at a point in time, may produce a very different result for someone else.
The more consequential the decision, the more important that distinction becomes.
There is a temptation to divide advice into two categories:
good advice and bad advice.
Reality is often more complicated. Advice can be perfectly sensible and still be inappropriate for a particular situation. Take:
"You should speak up.”
That may be excellent advice for someone who routinely stays silent when their contribution would be valuable. But imagine someone who already dominates meetings, interrupts colleagues, and speaks before understanding the issue. The same advice could make their problem worse. Or consider:
You need to take more risks.
That may be appropriate for someone who has become so cautious that opportunities repeatedly pass them by. It is terrible advice for someone already overextended financially and considering another highly speculative decision.
The words have not changed. The situation has. And boundaries crossed.
Most advice does not begin as a slogan. It comes about through experience.
Imagine an entrepreneur who spends twenty years building a successful company. During those twenty years, there may have been:
Then someone asks:
“What is the secret to your success?”
And twenty years of complexity gets reduced to
“Never give up."
There may be truth in that statement.
Perhaps persistence really was essential. But something has happened during the transition from experience to lesson to advice. A great deal of context has disappeared.
The listener receives the conclusion. They do not necessarily receive all the conditions that made the conclusion useful.
Advice is often experience with the context removed.
The shorter the advice is, the easier it may be to overlook what it leaves out.
There is enormous value in learning from other people’s experiences.
It can save us time.
It can reveal possibilities we had not considered.
It can warn us about mistakes before we make them ourselves.
But there is a subtle difference between:
learning from someone’s experience and turning someone’s experience into a rule for your own life.
Suppose someone tells you:
“Leaving my job was the best thing I ever did. You should quit and start your own business.”
What might sit behind their decision?
Perhaps they already had prospective customers?
Perhaps they had substantial savings?
Perhaps they other sources of stable income?
Perhaps they had spent fifteen years developing expertise?
Perhaps they were entering a fast-growing market?
Perhaps they had no significant financial dependants?
They took the leap and succeeded.
What you need to understand is:
What made their leap survivable?
Those are very different questions.
Even people who genuinely want the best for us rarely possess all the information we possess. They may know the situation superficially, but do they know the full situation?
They may not know:
your financial obligations;
what has already happened privately;
what alternatives you have considered;
what risks you can tolerate, etc?
Sometimes we contribute to the problem by asking:
“Should I take this job?”
Then give someone a five-minute summary of a decision involving our career, income, boss, family, commute, development opportunities, culture, health, ambitions, and future prospects. They answer:
“Definitely.”
The confidence of the answer can make us forget how little information went into it.
The important question is not necessarily:
“Do I trust this person?”
You may trust them enormously.
A better question may be:
“How much of the relevant situation can this person actually see?”
Trustworthiness and completeness of information are different things.
When we receive advice, we often think there are two options: follow it or ignore it.
There is a useful third option. Treat it as another piece of information to explore.
Suppose three experienced colleagues advise you against accepting a promotion. While you do not have to obey them, dismissing them completely would not make much sense either. Instead, ask:
What are they seeing?
Are they independently noticing the same risk?
Do they know something I don’t?
What assumptions are they making?
How similar were their experiences?
Do they have incentives that influence their recommendation?
What part of their advice is observation, and what part is interpretation?
Now advice becomes input rather than instruction. That changes the relationship considerably. You can listen carefully without surrendering your evaluation.
Not all advice deserves the same amount of scrutiny.
If someone recommends:
“Try that coffee shop.”
The consequences of acting on questionable advice are limited. You may lose ten dollars and half an hour. However, consider advice such as:
“Leave your job.”
“End the relationship.”
“Invest most of your savings.” etc,
Now context matters much more. A useful principle is:
As the consequences increase, the threshold for acting on general advice should usually rise as well.
Before applying high-consequence advice, it may be worth considering:
The questions are not designed to paralyse decision-making. They are designed to improve evaluation.
General advice appeals to us partly because it simplifies complicated situations.
In reality, human situations often contain variables. timing, relationships, objectives, resources, recovery from failure, etc.
What happened yesterday can change what is appropriate today. This is why apparently contradictory advice can both contain wisdom.
“Be patient.” and “Don’t wait too long.”
“Stand your ground.” and “Pick your battles.”
“Give people another chance.” and “Know when to walk away.”
Both can be right, it depends on the situation.
The skill lies partly in recognizing which principle fits the situation you are actually facing.
That is much harder than memorising the principle.
Advice is one way humans share experience. We should not become suspicious of it simply because it is imperfect.
Much of what we know has come from other people. Someone else’s experience can protect us from an avoidable mistake, expose a blind spot, or show us an opportunity we could not see. But advice becomes more useful when we stop treating it as a universal instruction.
The next time you hear:
“Never give up.”
“Just be yourself.”
“Take the risk.”
Don’t listen to what other people think.” ,etc.
You do not necessarily need to reject it. Just ask yourself
Under what circumstances does this advice make sense?
When might it stop making sense?
What assumptions does it depend on?
Where is its boundary?
The most important thing to understand about advice is this:
Advice does not have to be absolutely right or wrong; it depends largely on the circumstance you are in.
Savvy Intelligence focuses on navigating people, situations, and decisions more thoughtfully.
Advice is a good example of why this type of thinking matters. Receiving a recommendation is only the beginning.
We need to be clear on what is happening, understand the context, distinguish what we know from what we assume, consider possible consequences, and determine an appropriate response. That does not mean analyzing every casual suggestion endlessly. It means recognizing when more evaluation is warranted.