KILLING THE HIPPOS

We’ve all been in that meeting. The one where the ideas are flowing, the whiteboard is filling up, and someone’s just suggested a slightly wild but strangely brilliant solution to a long-standing problem. People nod. A few smiles pop up. There’s energy. Momentum.

And then it happens. The HIPPO speaks.

No, not the animal. The Highest Paid Person’s Opinion.

Suddenly the air shifts. The room gets quieter. That half-baked idea that could’ve led somewhere just evaporates. And even though nobody says it out loud, we all know what just happened. The HIPPO just sat on the creative process like a 3-ton beast on a bouncy castle.

It’s frustrating. And weirdly common.

The HIPPO problem shows up across industries, organizations, and Zoom calls. It doesn’t matter if you’re building a marketing campaign, designing a new app interface, or trying to figure out how to improve lunch in the cafeteria. If the person with the most seniority or the highest paycheck speaks too early or too strongly, creativity often shuts down. Not because they’re wrong. But because they outweigh the room.

The science backs this up. Social psychology has a name for it: authority bias. We tend to overvalue the opinions of those in charge, even when they have no relevant expertise in the subject at hand. It’s a leftover from the days when questioning the village chief might get you kicked out of the cave, or worse, eaten by a saber-toothed tiger.

But in 2025? The tiger is gone. The real threat now is a poorly timed executive opinion that derails a brilliant idea before it even hatches.

The thing is, HIPPOs don’t always mean harm. Most of them think they’re helping. And to be fair, they’ve often gotten where they are by making good calls. But that doesn’t make them experts in everything. Being great at finance doesn’t mean you should dictate the color palette of the product packaging. And being CEO doesn’t mean your gut instinct should override a week’s worth of user testing.

Yet, here we are.

So how do we deal with HIPPOs? How do we create space for ideas without offending the person who signs the invoices?

Let’s be clear: We’re not killing HIPPOs here — no wildlife harmed. But we do need strategies for gently moving their oversized influence out of the creative room. Or at least to the back row.

A friend once facilitated a workshop where the CTO of the company had a very specific vision for how the new onboarding flow “should feel.” He described it in detail. Poetic detail, actually. Something about “streamlined elegance” and “evoking a sense of velocity.” Which sounds cool. Except no one in the room knew what that meant in practice. And worse, once he’d spoken, the whole team just started parroting back versions of his idea.

Until one brave designer leaned over and whispered to my friend, the moderator, “We tested something totally different with users last week. It worked ten times better.”

So they changed tactics.

They ran the rest of the session anonymously. People submitted ideas via a shared doc and shifted to heat maps for voting. They held back names until after the concepts were discussed. And guess what? The crowd favorite was not “streamlined elegance.” It was the practical, slightly quirky version tested the week before. When the CTO found out, he laughed. Genuinely. And admitted that he just wanted to spark conversation. Not dominate it.

That’s the lesson. Most HIPPOs aren’t monsters. They’re just used to leading. Sometimes, they forget what leadership actually looks like in a creative space.

It’s not about having the best idea. It’s about creating the best environment for ideas.

Think of it like running a Spotify playlist at a party. If one person keeps queuing all their favorite songs, eventually the vibe dies. Even if the songs are technically good. Great leaders know when to DJ and when to just dance.

And honestly, if you’re a HIPPO reading this: we get it. You’re passionate. You care. But here’s the secret to staying relevant in this new landscape of fast iteration and AI-fueled creativity, listen more than you talk. Because the best ideas often come from the edges of the room. From the junior developer. From the intern. From the quiet designer with the notepad full of magic.

Tech has already figured some of this out. In companies that rely heavily on A/B testing, like Amazon or Booking.com, the HIPPO has way less power. Why? Because the data gets the final say. You can think your call-to-action button should be red because it feels urgent. But if the blue one gets more clicks, guess which one wins?

This is where tools come in. Anonymous voting. Pre-mortem workshops. Structured brainstorming. Even AI models that evaluate concept variations without knowing who wrote them. The idea is to remove as much ego from the equation as possible. Or at least delay it until the good stuff has surfaced.

In pop culture terms, HIPPOs are kind of like Thanos from the Marvel universe. Strong. Determined. Often right in their own minds. But with a tendency to snap their fingers and delete half the creative possibilities without realizing the consequences. The Avengers didn’t beat Thanos with brute strength. They used strategy. They worked together. They played the long game.

So if you’re dealing with a HIPPO, try time-boxing. Give them a speaking slot after the brainstorming. Frame their role as “synthesizer” rather than “decider.” Remind them they’re there to support, not to steer. Set ground rules before you start: no opinions from leadership until all other voices are heard. And maybe, just maybe, don’t invite them to the first draft phase at all. Bring them in when the ideas have matured a bit.

I know. That’s risky. But so is betting everything on one oversized voice.

Because here’s the truth: great ideas are fragile. Especially at first. They’re weird. Unpolished. Half-formed. They don’t always look impressive in a boardroom. And if a HIPPO stomps on them too early, they never get a chance to grow legs.

So next time you’re in a session and the HIPPO starts warming up their vocal cords, gently redirect. Invite input at the right moment. Protect the weirdness until it has a fighting chance. And if all else fails, blame the process. Not the person. “We’re testing all ideas first before reviewing leadership feedback.” It works.

And if you are the HIPPO in the room? First of all, thank you for reading this far. Second, here’s a tiny challenge: try being the last to speak. Not the first. It’s harder than it sounds. But it might be the most powerful leadership move you make all year.

Because creativity doesn’t need a boss. It needs a safe zone.

One where bold ideas can crawl out of the shadows. One where wild experiments can be heard before they’re judged. One where the highest paid person’s opinion… is just one voice among many.

And that’s how you kill the HIPPO. Without killing the mood.