How Jeff Spicoli Taught Us That It’s Ok To Say “I Don’t Know”

Chris Clews
6 min readApr 20, 2020

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Credit: RGR Collection/Alamy Stock Photo

Believe it or not, there are a number of parallels between high school and the workplace. Some good, like teamwork and personal growth. Others not so good, like cliques and gossip. The student body at Ridgemont High School back in 1982, delivered examples of each, but going beyond these surface lessons is where the core of our education for this article can be found. As Hall and Oates said in their 1985 hit song, “Adult Education” — “What you want is an adult education,” and yes Jeff Spicoli is actually going to deliver that to you.

Fast Times at Ridgemont High introduced us to a familiar face for the first time — Mr. Hand. Although none of us had technically met Mr. Hand, I say familiar because he epitomized the ’80s high school teacher who had little time to suffer fools which meant he had very little time for Spicoli. At one point early in the movie, Spicoli is tardy once again, and when asked why he can’t make it to class on time, he simply says, “I don’t know.” For some reason, even thinking about saying those three words in the workplace has somehow become synonymous with weakness and lack of preparation or worse, lack of intelligence.

But as we will find out, it is okay to say, “I don’t know” and in fact, one can and will argue that it is a more a sign of strength and character than anything negative.

It’s okay to say, “I don’t know.”

From the first time they meet, Mr. Hand, who teaches history at Ridgemont High, and Spicoli have a complex relationship. Spicoli is late on his first day of class and Mr. Hand doesn’t take truancy lightly, as we find out when he rips up Spicoli’s schedule card and throws the pieces on the floor — to which Spicoli says, “Hey, you’re ripping my card.”

The next time they interact, Spicoli is late once again, but this time he is brought to class by another student who Mr. Hand has sent out to find him. He has a bagel tucked in the top of his jeans, with his shirt open and when Mr. Hand asks him the reason for his truancy, Spicoli responds with “Just couldn’t make it on time.” The conversation continues, which leads us to this classic exchange that will be the premise for this lesson:

Mr. Hand: “Why are you continuously late for this class, Mr. Spicoli? Why do you shamelessly waste my time like this?”

Spicoli: “I don’t know.”

Mr. Hand then approaches the chalkboard and writes “I Don’t Know” in big, bold letters and says: “I like that … I don’t know. That’s nice.”

He goes on to tell Spicoli that he is going to leave his words on the chalkboard for all of his classes to see and will give him full credit for them, to which Spicoli says, “Well, alright!”

It is one of many classic scenes in the movie, and the two of them together have great comedic chemistry. But when Spicoli provides that incredibly simplistic three-word answer of “I don’t know” to Mr. Hand’s question, it actually teaches us a very valuable lesson for the workplace.

How many times in the workplace have you been in a position where you are asked a question and truly do not know the answer?

If your answer to this question is never, then in the words of Enid Strict (aka The Church Lady), “Well, isn’t that special?” But if you’re like most of us, you’ve experienced this on multiple occasions throughout your career and each time you probably paused longer than you might think as you raced through your head for some sort of answer that would satisfy the person asking (or, worse yet, the room full of your peers waiting for you to espouse your brilliance).

So, you formulate what you think is a well-thought-out answer in the second or two that you have. Unfortunately, what you say comes out sounding more like Lloyd Dobler’s rambling answer in the movie Say Anything when Diane Court’s father asks Lloyd what his plans are for the future, to which Lloyd replies:

“I’ve thought about this quite a bit, sir and I would have to say considering what’s waiting out there for me … I don’t want to sell anything, buy anything, or process anything as a career. I don’t want to sell anything bought or processed, or buy anything sold or processed, or process anything sold, bought, or processed, or repair anything sold, bought, or processed.”

Rambling and a bit confusing without a real answer. But fortunately for Lloyd Dobler, he was super cool and could fall back on his kickboxing training (which he called “the sport of the future”). You and I aren’t that lucky or that super cool. Well, maybe you are, but I’m not.

It’s normal to want to answer the question that is directly asked of you, especially when it’s your manager or when it’s in a room full of your team members. All of us want to look our best at work and be the one with the answers or the solutions to the problem. And as you are searching for the answer, you may start talking just to fill the silence in the hopes that you will stumble across it 20 or 30 words into your nervous attempt at stalling as you say to yourself c’mon, you got this … think! But what if you don’t have the answer? What if no matter what recess of your brain you reach into, that Magnum P.I. “little voice inside you” says you simply don’t know?

Herein lies our lesson from Mr. Hand and the unforgettable Jeff Spicoli. It really is okay to say, “I don’t know.” What did he just say? Audible gasps can be heard coming from the room, and then a hush falls over the crowd. Whispers permeate as conference chair neighbors lean into each other and quietly ask, “Did he just admit that he didn’t know? I mean, did he actually say,
‘I don’t know?’” Three words that have been treated as taboo in the business world and viewed as a one-way ticket down the corporate ladder. How dare you not be omnipotent? You should be the equivalent of the all-knowing and all-seeing eye of the three witches in the Clash of the Titans — the 1981 version, of course, not the 2010 remake.

DIGRESSION ALERT: If you are anything like me, at this very moment you can hear them saying “Give us the eye” to Perseus played by the dapper Harry Hamlin.

The idea that we should have all the answers at the time that someone asks a question is such an old-school approach to business and dare I say unrealistic. Furthermore, the idea that saying “I don’t know” is a sign of vulnerability, weakness or that it implies you aren’t proficient at your job is just plain silly. On the contrary, saying those three words is a sign of strength and confidence. Rather than attempting to make something up or take the Buzzword Bob approach and fill the space with, well, buzzwords, in the hopes that you can replicate the all-knowing eye, you’ve admitted that you are human. Oh, the horror!

Admitting that you don’t know can also position as you as a leader in the eyes of your other team members. They will now look at you as the person who was unafraid to take a chance, by stepping up and paving the way for the rest of the team to deliver honestly and transparently. This relaxes everyone and frees people of the stress of feeling as if you need to have every answer or fabricate it when you don’t. You know that burden that you carry when you know something isn’t real, that you are faking it like Ronald Miller in the 1987 film Can’t Buy Me Love, and that at some point it will eventually catch up to you.

I must, however, add a quick caveat here. When saying I don’t know, it is good practice to include something like, “Let me look into it and get back to you,” after those three words. Or “But I’ll find the answer and get you the information.” Although I believe strongly in the positive power of “I don’t know,” it doesn’t stand up very well on its own and will be received much better with the idea that an answer or solution is forthcoming. After all, even Spicoli was able to muster an emphatic “Well, alright” to support his initial “I don’t know.”

And if your boss answers your “I don’t know” with a retort of “I like that … I don’t know …That’s nice,” well, maybe the way to that next promotion is an increased use of ’80s movie quotes at work. I mean, once again, that would be in the words of Spicoli, “Awesome! Totally Awesome!”

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Chris Clews

Chris is a speaker, marketing consultant, 80s pop culture enthusiast and author of the book series “What 80s Pop Culture Teaches Us About Today’s Workplace”.