Who Gets to Decide What’s Possible?: Sarah Howard

By Sandy Glanfield

There was something incredibly powerful in hearing Sarah Howard say, clearly and confidently, that being labelled “naïve” feels deeply judgemental.

It makes you feel small.
It makes you feel assessed.
It shuts you down.

And none of us want to feel that.

What struck me most was Sarah’s insight that the word doesn’t just describe an idea, it places someone else in a position of power. As she says, it presupposes that the person using the word gets to decide what is realistic, what is sensible, what is possible. “Naïve” comes loaded with critique. With judgement. With a quiet dismissal.

No wonder it makes people squirm.

I loved how Sarah shared that she feels much more comfortable with the word “idealistic.” Somehow it doesn’t feel childish or inexperienced. It feels hopeful. Principled. Even virtuous. And maybe that’s why it sits differently in the body. It holds space for imagination rather than closing it down.

But what I found especially thought-provoking was her reflection on the opposite of naïve.

Cynicism.

Sarah gently suggested that cynicism might actually be the more naïve position. Because cynicism narrows our view of the world. It fixes reality into something rigid and unchangeable. It assumes we already know how things are and how they will always be.

Whereas what we often label as naïve holds openness. Possibility. Hope. Imagination. A belief that things could be different.

And when you look at it that way, who is really being limited?

I loved Sarah’s reclaiming of who gets to define where potential in the world lies. Drawing on her Silicon Valley context, she spoke about how ideas that might be dismissed elsewhere are often reframed there as bold, innovative, and novel. Just a shift in language, and suddenly the judgement disappears. Possibility opens up.

It made me reflect on how often I have felt that quiet shrinking when someone else’s perspective seems to set the boundaries of what is realistic. How easy it is to hand over the power of possibility without even noticing.

There was something deeply grounding in the way Sarah spoke about her own path. The assurance she feels that it is the right one for her. The pride she holds in the thread of idealism that runs through everything she does. Not apologetically. Not defensively. But with calm confidence.

And I realised how rare and brave that is.

Sarah has named something so many of us have felt but struggled to articulate. That discomfort when our hopes or ideas are quietly judged. That moment where imagination meets someone else’s cynicism. And she has shown exactly why it feels so uncomfortable.

Because judgement closes doors.
And belief opens them. 

This is where her reflections connect so beautifully with the Golden Rule.

Treat ideas with openness rather than judgement.

Meet hope with curiosity, not cynicism.

Trust in the potential of what could be.

The Golden Rule asks us to treat others, and the world, as we would wish to be treated. With care. With openness. With respect for their potential. Not with judgement that shrinks possibility.

What if, instead of labelling ideas as naïve, we allowed people to explore their own paths? What if we met imagination with curiosity rather than cynicism? What if we trusted that hope is not weakness, but the starting point of change?

There is such courage, determination, and adventure in the way Sarah lives her life because of this mindset. She chooses openness over dismissal. Belief over limitation. Action over judgement.

And in doing so, she reminds us that many of the things that have ever moved the world forward probably looked “naïve” at first.

Until someone was bold enough to believe in them anyway.