The Input Dilemma
On Being Wired to Collect Knowledge—And Learning When You've Got Enough
I have a tab problem.
At any given moment, I have somewhere between 20 and 40 browser tabs open. Some of them are articles I’ve been meaning to read for what feels like years. Some are tools I want to “try out soon.” A few are research rabbit holes that started because I was curious about something and then cascaded, as they always do, into a bunch of other things I absolutely “needed” to understand before I could move go on.
Most of these tabs, if I’m being honest, will remain open for a while, accumulating until I can’t take it anymore and engage in one of those dramatic “I’M DONE” purges that’s probably rooted more in overwhelm than anything else.
This may look like a problem centered around productivity, but for me, it’s actually more of a wiring one.
Perhaps you’ve heard of CliftonStrenghts (formerly known as StrengthsFinder), and perhaps you also tend to lean heavy into the Input theme. If this is case, you know well that this kind of never-ending tab behavior is, while certainly beneficial, mildly annoying at times as well.
I’ve been sitting with my Input theme for a while, not just because I live it daily, but because I firmly believe in the power of a strengths-based approach to self-understanding and growth. Maybe it’s the educator in me, but how can we expect anyone to achieve their potential if they don’t view themselves from a strengths-first lens?
I’ve also had the opportunity to meet and work with a lot of Input-strong leaders. Some of them are profoundly self-aware about it, having figured out how to lean into its incredible power and steer clear of its limitations, and some of them aren’t quite sure why they can’t seem to get things moving.
That’s why, for this week’s post, I want to talk about what Input is, where it serves us, and where it derails us. My hope is that, for those of us who’ve been thematically blessed with Input, we can build a simple practice around knowing when we have enough to take the next step.
A Bit About Input
CliftonStrengths defines Input as the need to collect and archive. Things, facts, books, quotes, data, people, ideas… all of it. The descriptor that shows up in the official assessment language is a person who is “inquisitive.” For those high in Input, there’s a low threshold for what counts as worth saving. Everything might one day be useful. Plus, the act of collecting itself is genuinely satisfying in a way that’s hard to explain to someone who’s more inclined towards minimalism.
Here’s some perspective about Input directly from the source:
“Whatever you collect, you collect it because it interests you. And yours is the kind of mind that finds so many things interesting. The world is exciting precisely because of its infinite variety and complexity.
If you read a great deal, it is not necessarily to refine your theories but, rather, to add more information to your archives. If you like to travel, it is because each new location offers novel artifacts and facts. These can be acquired and then stored away. Why are they worth storing? At the time of storing, it is often hard to say exactly when or why you might need them, but who knows when they might become useful?
With all those possible uses in mind, you really don’t feel comfortable throwing anything away. So you keep acquiring and compiling and filing stuff away. It’s interesting. It keeps your mind fresh. And perhaps one day some of it will prove valuable.”
Input is often equated with an extraordinary ability to research, curate, and connect seemingly disparate ideas across domains. We’re often the people in the room who say things like, “Actually, I read something about this,” and then produce a useful reference. We’re also keen on building mental libraries and repositories so that knowledge isn’t just gained, but shared. To us, it’s not always about the end destination, but the opportunity to learn something in and of itself.
This is genuinely a gift. In the context knowledge work especially, the ability to hold a lot of information and make unexpected connections across domains is enormously valuable. Those with high Input tend to ask better questions. We organically seek out opportunities for collaboration and perspective-building. We’re also harder to blindside given we tend to have a lot of context simply because we’ve been accumulating it almost instinctively for years.
But as we all know, most gifts come with a few drawbacks.
Gathering isn’t Doing
Broadly speaking, the challenge with Input is that the act of gathering can get in the way of doing. More specifically, it can become a way of delaying decision or action under an entirely reasonable-sounding justification that we just need a little more information before we can move forward.
This is sometimes called “analysis paralysis.” The phrase itself is a tad overused, but there’s relevance in it for high-Input people given we sometimes chew on decisions a bit longer than necessary. We just need one more piece of context. One more perspective. One more article to ensure we’ve framed the problem appropriately. And so the collecting continues, while the deciding waits.
There’s also what I one might call the “curation trap.” Those of us high on input maintain a robust collection of information that can sometimes start to take up more cognitive and emotional bandwidth than we’re actually using. If you’ve ever found yourself re-reading something you’ve already processed because you want to make sure you haven’t missed anything, you know exactly what I’m describing. The system that is supposed to support our thinking becomes more like a second job.
None of this makes Input bad, but as with any strength, it can be a source of friction unless counterbalanced.
Input as Fuel
What I’ve started to believe is that Input is less a goal than it is fuel. But we need to use that fuel responsibly.
I’m sharing here a set of six questions I’ve found useful whenever I find myself deep in the throes of collecting and gathering and want (or need!) to move forward.
What decision, action, or output is this input supposed to support? If I can’t name it with specificity, it’s worth pausing for a moment.
What would change about the decision if I had more information? If the answer is “not much,” then I might have enough.
Is there a deadline (either real or self-imposed) attached to this? If not, this can influence things for the worse sometimes.
Can I summarize what I know in three sentences or fewer? If I can’t, then the issue is less about information than it is synthesis.
What’s the cost of waiting? What is being delayed while I continue gathering?
Am I collecting because it’s useful, or because it’s comfortable for me? These are two different things, and they lead different places.
I share these questions not to shame Input—I, for one, have seen the incredible value behind it. But they are meant to add a small layer of intentionality to a behavior that, for high-Input people, typically runs on autopilot.
Less can indeed be more, depending on the context, of course, but the goal is really isn’t to collect less. What we need to do is be disciplined in knowing why we’re collecting, and to recognize the moment when the most useful thing we can do is stop and use what we already have.
It’s about knowing when to close out the tabs, in other words. Not all of them, but some of them. Because we need to make room for what’s next: action, and of course, in time, more input.
If you’re a fellow Input, I’d love to hear how this plays out for you in all the ways! Share in the comments below!
Really like those questions.
I want to add a third option.
I have been writing a book for the past year. I could move faster. I could take what I have gathered and hand it to a tool and have something that looks like the output much sooner. I have chosen not to, and sitting with your question helped me name why.
The gathering, when it is slow and deliberate and questioned, is doing something to my thinking that the output cannot replicate. The tabs I sit with longest are not always the ones that make it into the writing. They are the ones that change how I understand what I am writing about. That is not information gathering in service of an output. That is formation.
Your framework is right that Input can become avoidance.