Why Your Brain Lies to You at Work

The human brain is not primarily designed to find truth. It is designed to protect us. From an evolutionary perspective, survival mattered far more than objective analysis. If our ancestors hesitated when they sensed danger, they might not survive long enough to pass on their genes. As a result, our brains evolved to exaggerate threats, focus on negative signals, and make quick assumptions when information is incomplete.

That survival mechanism still operates today, even though most of us are not running from predators. Instead, the same instincts influence how we approach work, opportunities, and career decisions.

In recruitment, I see this constantly.

A candidate may receive a strong job offer with clear progression, better leadership, and a healthier environment. Yet they hesitate because their brain is telling them something feels risky. The unknown triggers the brain’s threat detection system. Staying in a familiar role, even if it is frustrating or limiting, often feels safer than stepping into something new.

From a purely logical perspective, the move might make perfect sense. But logic is not always the dominant force in decision making.

Psychologists often talk about cognitive biases, which are essentially mental shortcuts the brain uses to interpret the world quickly. These shortcuts are useful, but they can also distort reality.

One common example is what psychologists call the availability bias. Our brains tend to focus on what we notice most easily and assume it represents the bigger picture.

You may have experienced this in everyday life. A friend buys a particular car, and suddenly you start noticing that same model everywhere on the road. It feels as though the number of those cars has suddenly increased, when in fact your attention has simply changed.

The same bias appears in careers.

If someone has one negative experience with a manager, their brain may start scanning for similar signals in every workplace. If a colleague once had a bad experience changing jobs, that story suddenly becomes the dominant narrative in their mind about job moves. The brain collects supporting evidence while quietly ignoring the countless examples where people successfully advanced their careers by moving.

Over the years of working with thousands of candidates and employers, I have seen how easily these mental patterns shape professional decisions.

Another powerful influence is what psychologists call the negativity bias. Our brains tend to process negative experiences more deeply than positive ones. This made sense when survival depended on remembering dangers. But in modern workplaces, it can lead people to focus far more on what might go wrong than what might go right.

I have worked with candidates who were thriving in a new role but still worried constantly about making mistakes because they were carrying the memory of one difficult job from years earlier. Their brain had amplified that experience so strongly that it shaped how they interpreted every new situation.

This tendency also appears during recruitment processes.

Employers sometimes focus heavily on a single perceived weakness in a candidate, overlooking the broader strengths that made them a strong contender in the first place. Likewise, candidates often fixate on one uncomfortable interview moment and assume they have failed completely.

Our brains are remarkably good at creating stories that reinforce existing fears.

What is perhaps most surprising is how much of this happens automatically. Research suggests that a large percentage of our daily decisions occur below the level of conscious awareness. Habits, emotions, past experiences, and our environment quietly shape our behaviour long before rational thought catches up.

This is why small pauses can be so powerful in professional decision making.

When people react instantly, they are often responding from instinct rather than reflection. But when they pause, even briefly, they create space to examine whether their reaction is coming from fact or from assumption.

In my experience, some of the best career decisions happen when someone slows down enough to ask a simple question: “Is this a real problem, or is it just my brain trying to protect me from uncertainty?”

That moment of awareness can change everything.

Another useful habit is learning to separate evidence from interpretation. If a candidate tells me, “The interviewer didn’t like me,” I often ask what actually happened. Usually the evidence is far more neutral. The interviewer may have simply been quiet, focused, or under time pressure.

The brain filled in the gaps with a story.

Similarly, when professionals consider career moves, their imagination often jumps straight to worst-case scenarios. But imagination can work both ways. Visualising positive outcomes can be just as powerful as anticipating problems. Athletes and senior leaders often use visualisation techniques to mentally rehearse success before it happens.

Over time, the brain begins to treat that possibility as familiar rather than threatening.

None of this means instincts should be ignored completely. Experience does give us valuable intuition. But the key is recognising that instinct and truth are not always the same thing.

A healthy career mindset requires a balance between awareness and action. Notice your reactions, question your assumptions, and take a moment to separate emotional signals from real information.

One thing I have learned after decades in recruitment is that many people underestimate themselves simply because their brain is wired to protect them from uncertainty. The irony is that the very instinct designed to keep us safe can sometimes hold us back from the opportunities that would allow us to grow.

Understanding that dynamic is one of the most powerful shifts a professional can make. Because once you realise your brain occasionally tells protective stories rather than objective truths, you gain the ability to pause, examine the situation more clearly, and choose your next step with intention.

And in a career that may span forty years or more, that small shift in awareness can make an extraordinary difference to where you eventually end up.