I’ve been thinking a lot about solitude at work, not in a philosophical sense, but in a very real, everyday way. The thought first came up because of my 7 year old son. He’s an introvert, the textbook kind. He enjoys learning on his own, prefers silence to noise, and doesn’t rush to speak in groups.

A few weeks ago, his school gave us feedback: he should try to influence group dynamics more and speak up in group activities. Fair enough. I caught myself realizing that I often delivered the same feedback to my team members, peers, and colleagues as well.

Why is group influence always the goal? Why do we assume that the ability to perform well in groups is a universal skill everyone should master?

The cult of teams

Most of us grew up learning that teams are the foundation of success. Schools encourage group projects. Startups celebrate collaboration. Companies structure everything around squads, pods, and cross-functional units. And I’ve believed that too. For the longest time, I held the view that the smallest unit of meaningful delivery is a team.

There’s something we don’t talk about much. Some of the most important breakthroughs in human history happened in solitude. Einstein. Wozniak. Ada Lovelace. These weren’t group brainstorms - they were quiet moments of focused, deep thinking. Time spent alone.

Of course, they didn’t operate in complete isolation, no one truly does. But their foundational work came from within. And the more I reflect, the more I wonder: are we over-indexing on collaboration and underestimating the power of solitude?

My own bias

As a leader, this topic has hit close to home. I’m someone who loves a fast-paced discussion. I’m energized by meetings. I’m that person who can make snap decisions and improvise on the spot. For years, I saw that as not just my strength, but the best way to work - maybe even the only way to get great results.

What I’ve learned is that not everyone works like that. And more importantly: they shouldn’t have to.

Instead of trying to get everyone to thrive in meetings, I’ve started asking: What would it look like to create environments where solitude is not only allowed, but celebrated?

Remote work as an equalizer

Remote work helped me see this more clearly. In most office environments, there’s almost no real solitude. There’s always noise—conversations, distractions, context switches. It’s often assumed that working together physically means working better. But for deep thinkers, introverts, and reflective types, that environment is exhausting.

Remote setups can create more space - literally and figuratively. But even then, we have to be intentional. Solitude doesn’t just happen - it needs design.

I often ask myself: How can we build systems that include people who think better alone? Not as an afterthought, but as a design principle.

Individuals can outperform teams

We recently ran the “Subarctic Survival” exercise in our team. If you’ve done it, you know the drill: everyone ranks survival items individually, then does the same as a team. What was surprising? A few individuals actually outperformed the group.

It’s not peer-reviewed science. But it reminded me again that the common wisdom - “teams are always smarter than individuals”, isn’t always true. It depends. And it deserves nuance.

So what should we do?

I don’t have a perfect formula, but I’ve started to gather some principles and habits that seem to help.

1. Protect solitude time

Set aside days where the default is focused, individual work. No meetings. No Slack pings. No group check-ins. Just quiet, uninterrupted time. Yes, it has trade-offs. But it also trains the “solitude muscle” for those who rarely use it, and gives space to those who need it.

2. Make working preferences explicit

In onboarding, 1:1s, or team-wide rituals-create space to share how each person prefers to work. What drains them? What helps them recharge? If someone thrives in writing and hates real-time debates, it shouldn’t be a secret.

This isn’t just “getting to know each other” - it’s operational knowledge.

3. Balance the voices

If most people in your team are verbal, fast, and collaborative, they will naturally dominate decision-making. That’s not bad, but it is biased. Introduce systems to balance it out. For example, default to writing before discussing. Give everyone time to think before deciding. Normalize saying, “I need a day to sit with this.”

4. Embrace async by default

Asynchronous work isn’t just a scheduling trick. It’s a form of inclusion. It allows people to reflect, articulate, and contribute without being “on” in the moment. Use it for more than status updates. Use it for decisions, feedback, even brainstorming.

5. Coach silence

Silence is valuable. In most group settings, silence feels awkward - so someone fills it. But that “filler” often silences the people who need time to think.

Teach your team that silence isn’t a problem. It’s space. Don’t rush to fill it and let it breathe.

Rethinking what “good” looks like

Not everyone wants to lead a discussion. Not everyone wants to whiteboard an idea in front of others. And not everyone should have to.

Some of the most thoughtful people I’ve worked with are slow to speak, but fast to understand. Their work doesn’t always show up in a meeting, but it shows up in impact. We need to make space for that kind of contribution.

Solitude is not a flaw

We treat teamwork as a skill to build. But solitude is a skill too. One that’s often overlooked, dismissed, or even discouraged.

I’m learning to stop seeing solitude as a deficit. It’s not something to fix. It’s a strength to recognize, nurture, and design for.

Because not every great idea is born in a brainstorming session - some are born in silence.