Years ago when I was walking across Turkey, I was out in the middle of nowhere in the eastern part of the country. Some old beatup car, like a 1970s Datsun or something like that, stopped on the other side of the road and a man got out and walked towards me.

This was a little weird, but keep in mind that I had already been walking for six months, so I was pretty used to weird things happening. Besides, I was about three times the size of the guy, so I figured that if things went south, I could take him.

I stopped, walked toward him, and smiled and said hi. We met in the middle of the road and I shook his hand — a friendly gesture, sure, but I was actually just confirming he wasn’t holding a weapon.

He looked at me and said, “Do you have any information?”

“Information about what?” I asked him.

He looked side to side to make sure we were alone and said, “You know, … information.”

“Information about what?” I asked him again. At that point it was dawning on me that I was in the presence of a crazy person, and I just wanted him to get back in his car and leave me alone.

He reached into his pocket, pulled out a business card, looked me in the eye, and said, “If you get any information, call me.” He handed me the card.

I stuffed the card in my pocket and assured him I would call him. He walked back to his car, and me to my side of the road.

After he pulled away, I took a look at the business card he had handed me. It was for a kuruyemişçi (peanuts and miscellaneous snacks store) in a nearby town.

My point is that when we are presenting to our bosses or the higher-ups in an organization, we tend to overestimate the knowledge they have. Like the schizophrenic peanut guy, we think they have access to magical information that we don’t. That belief, that elevation, makes us more nervous than we need to be.

Remember that you are the expert, not them. That’s why they asked you to get up and speak. They don’t know nearly as much as you think they do. Relax. You are the expert in the room.