Every creative presentation has the same moment. The work is shown. The room is quiet. Then someone asks: "What does the client think?"
It's the mandatory question. The one that determines whether we're discussing the work or managing politics.
I learned early in my career that this question has no good answer. If you say "they love it," the subtext is "but do we?" If you say "they haven't seen it yet," the subtext is "then why are we?" If you say "they have concerns," the work is dead before discussion begins.
The question isn't really about the client's opinion. It's about permission. Permission to like something, to critique something, to feel however you actually feel about it.
Which is precisely why the best creative leaders never ask it. They evaluate work on its merit, not its approval status. They understand that the client's job is to react, but our job is to recommend. And you can't recommend confidently if you're always checking over your shoulder.
I've watched brilliant work die in presentation prep. Not because it was wrong, but because someone preemptively neutered it to avoid client pushback that may never have happened. The work that survived wasn't necessarily better. It was just safer. Pre-compromised.
Here's what changed for me: I stopped presenting work I didn't believe in. When you present work you believe in, disagreement becomes conversation. When you present work you're hedging on, disagreement becomes capitulation.
The client can smell hedge. And hedge undermines everything. It says: "Here's something we made, but we're not sure about it either, so if you don't like it, that's fine, we have backups."
Why would anyone buy that?
So now, when someone asks "What does the client think?" I say: "Let's talk about what we think. Because that's what we're going to recommend."
Sometimes it's right. Sometimes it's wrong. But it's always honest. And in servicing, honest is the only position worth defending.