Innovation needs a closed door, not a crowded room.
Cheryl didn’t join our debates or brainstorms. While the rest of us tried to untangle a mess of competing priorities, she simply closed her office door, put on her headphones, and worked.
We were on a high-stakes project, one that felt doomed from the start. The task sounded straightforward: build a solution to help a client organize their sprawling operations. But every meeting brought new opinions, shifting priorities, and endless debates. Progress slowed to a crawl.
One afternoon, I passed by Cheryl’s office. While the rest of us wrestled with meetings and shifting priorities, she worked steadily, completely absorbed. That quiet focus stood out against the chaos around her.
Weeks later, she walked into the client meeting with a prototype. “It’s not perfect,” she said, “but it works.” And it did. Her solution didn’t just meet the client’s requirements; it addressed inefficiencies the client hadn’t even mentioned. Her workflows eliminated bottlenecks and brought order to fragmented processes.
The room went silent as she explained how it all worked. The client leaned in, impressed with every detail. By the end, they weren’t just satisfied — they were amazed. Her prototype became the foundation for a system the client relied on for years. After the meeting, I asked her how she’d done it. She shrugged, smiled, and said, “I just worked on what made sense.”
When collaboration fails
Watching Cheryl succeed alone made me question our culture’s obsession with collaboration. She delivered something transformative while the rest of us spun our wheels. All the input, revisions, and debates hadn’t produced anything concrete, while her independent effort saved the project.
Collaboration often gives the illusion of progress, but it can also create noise that makes it harder to see a clear path forward. Cheryl’s work proved that some problems don’t need more voices — they need focus. And focus thrives in solitude.
Later in my career, I noticed this pattern more often. Simple projects would spiral out of control because too many people were involved. Everyone had an opinion, and no one wanted to compromise. Cheryl’s decision to work alone wasn’t just efficient — it challenged the assumption that collaboration is always the best path to success.
Cheryl made working alone look effortless, but for me, it felt like swimming upstream.
Carving out space to work alone
Cheryl’s success wasn’t just about her technical skill. It revealed something larger: how often workplaces stifle the kind of autonomy that makes real breakthroughs possible.
Working alone isn’t always embraced in collaborative environments. Most workplaces prioritize visibility, team input, and collective progress. Independent effort can be misinterpreted as disengagement, lack of transparency, or even a refusal to collaborate.
Managers often want to feel involved or ensure that work is aligned with team goals. Cheryl’s success stands out because she had both the autonomy and trust to tackle the project her way. Not everyone is granted that kind of freedom.
But it’s possible to make space for independent work, even in environments that lean heavily on teamwork. Clear communication is key. Explaining why focused solo time is essential for solving a specific problem — or producing a high-quality deliverable — can help shift perceptions. Setting expectations, like regular updates or check-ins, reassures managers that progress is happening, even if it’s behind closed doors.
Some workplaces have started recognizing the value of focus. Policies like no-meeting days or flexible schedules create room for deep work. As Cheryl showed, results matter more than process, but advocating for the conditions to deliver those results is part of the challenge. Independent work doesn’t reject collaboration — it complements it when done right.
Fearless in solitude
When I tried to follow her example, I struggled. Every decision felt heavier without the safety net of shared responsibility. I second-guessed myself constantly, wondering if I was overlooking something important or if others would judge my choices. The fear of being wrong was overwhelming.
But I kept thinking about Cheryl. She wasn’t afraid to take responsibility for every choice, every line of code. Her calm confidence became a quiet reminder to trust my instincts, even when doubt crept in.
Over time, I started to appreciate the freedom that came with taking ownership. Working alone wasn’t about shutting others out — it was about creating the space to focus on what mattered most. That clarity felt rare in a world filled with noise.
Cheryl’s ability to block out the noise and focus mirrors what research and creative leaders have demonstrated time and again: solitude fosters clarity. Harvard Business Review found that individuals brainstorming alone often generate more ideas — and better ones — than groups. Steve Jobs, known for his groundbreaking innovations, often retreated to work in solitude before emerging with clear, transformative ideas.
Redefining success
Cheryl left the company about a year after her prototype went live. Her work became a gold standard in our industry, but what stayed with me was her approach. She trusted herself to figure out what made sense and delivered without hesitation.
That clarity changed how I think about success. Good work isn’t defined by how many people contribute or how many meetings happen. It’s about focus, ownership, and results. Cheryl’s example wasn’t just about one project — it challenged assumptions about collaboration itself. It reminded me that independence, used wisely, can create something extraordinary.
Even now, her influence shapes how I work. When faced with tough decisions, I still think back to her calm focus behind that closed door. Whether I’m tackling a tricky problem or making a high-stakes choice, I spend some time alone before making my decision.
This lesson applies far beyond software development. Writers, designers, engineers — anyone who creates — can benefit from stepping back from the noise of collaboration. It’s not about rejecting teamwork altogether; it’s about knowing when the best thing you can do is trust yourself.
Cheryl showed me that collaboration has its place, but it isn’t a requirement for every challenge. Sometimes, the best solutions come when I give myself the freedom to work alone.
