Stop Asking Your Manager for Permission to Try New Technology
By Nick Manning · Updated:
Getting new technology adopted at work is not a permission problem — it's a demonstration problem. Engineers who build the demo, measure the outcome, and let the results do the pitching move faster, build more trust, and get promoted more often.
I've spent 9+ years as an engineering manager — Google, Capital One, startups. In that time, engineers have pitched me new languages, frameworks, build tools, databases, and at least four different state management libraries.
Here's what I've never once said: "Why didn't you ask me first?"
Here's what I've said more times than I can count: "Cool. What problem does it solve?"
Most engineers think getting new technology adopted is a permission problem. It isn't. It's a demonstration problem. And the engineers who understand that difference move faster, build more trust, and — not coincidentally — get promoted more often.
Here's the playbook.
1. Try things without asking anyone
Your manager should not be approving your experiments. Spiking a new tool on a branch, rebuilding a slow script, prototyping with a library your team doesn't use — just do it. That's not going rogue. That's the job.
But know the line between trying and committing:
- Trying = a spike, a prototype, a throwaway proof. Costs only your own time. Needs nobody's blessing.
- Committing = a new dependency your teammates maintain for years. A new language in the build. Something that shows up in on-call. That's a team decision — you're spending other people's future time, not just yours.
Get this wrong in one direction and you never try anything. Get it wrong in the other and you merge a new framework into prod and wonder why everyone's furious.
Try freely. Commit deliberately.
And if your manager genuinely requires sign-off before you're even allowed to experiment? You don't have a technology problem. You have a micromanagement problem — and that's a different blog post.
2. Build the demo before the argument
Eric Schmidt spent six years saying no to building a browser. Google was small, he'd survived the browser wars once, and he had zero appetite for a fight with Microsoft.
Larry Page and Sergey Brin eventually hired a few ex-Firefox developers and built one anyway. When Schmidt saw the prototype, his reaction — his own words — was that "it was so good that it essentially forced me to change my mind."
Six years of argument moved him nowhere. One working demo moved him in an afternoon.
You are not Larry Page, and neither am I. The founders could override their CEO; you can't override your VP. But the mechanics scale down perfectly: demos beat decks. Every single time.
3. Lead with the outcome, not the tool
Here's the pitch I watched fail over and over as a manager:
"We should use X. Better ergonomics, huge community, look at these benchmarks from their website."
And here's the one that works:
"Our integration tests take 40 minutes. I rebuilt the harness on a branch last week — same coverage, 9 minutes. Want to see it?"
Notice the technology isn't even named in the second one. That's not an accident. The outcome is the headline. The tool is a footnote. If the demo lands, people will ask what you used — and now they're pulling the technology toward themselves instead of you pushing it at them.
There's a name worth knowing here: Sundar Pichai. When he championed Chrome internally, he didn't tell executives browsers were interesting. He argued Microsoft could threaten a sizable chunk of Google's revenue. Business risk first, technology second. Seven years later he was running the company.
4. Bring numbers or don't bring it at all
"It's faster" is an opinion. "40 minutes to 9" is a fact.
Before you show anyone anything, measure the pain you're removing:
- Build minutes
- Flaky test rate
- Onboarding days
- Pages per on-call shift
- Files touched per simple change
If you can't quantify what it improves, you're not ready to bring it to anyone yet.
5. Quantify the old thing — never trash it
The clunky system you want to replace? Someone on your team built it, probably under constraints you know nothing about.
- ❌ "This codebase is a mess and we should rewrite it in X" — reads as an attack on your teammates, and recruits opponents before you've started.
- ✅ "Our current setup requires touching 10 files to make one change — here's the measurement" — makes the same case with zero collateral damage.
Numbers criticize nothing. They just sit there being true.
6. Make your tech lead your first audience
Before anything goes wide, show it to your tech lead. Not for permission — for pressure-testing. They know where the bodies are buried: the migration that failed in 2023, the maintenance cost you haven't considered, the reason the "obvious" approach was already rejected once.
Two outcomes, both good:
- They poke holes in it → you found the weaknesses privately instead of publicly.
- They're convinced → you now have the most technically credible person on the team behind you. Those proposals are approved before the meeting starts.
7. Save the lunch-and-learn for last
Once something's proven and adopted — that's when you teach it. Demos convince; teaching compounds.
But it comes last, not first. A lunch-and-learn about a tool nobody's committed to is just a sales pitch with sandwiches.
The real problem: nobody defined the boundary
One more thing, from the manager's side of the table.
A manager's job is not to approve technology choices. It's to define the boundary inside which the team chooses freely — what the team owns, what risk it can absorb, and what genuinely needs wider alignment (things that cross team lines, touch compliance, or create long-term platform commitments). Inside that boundary, the team decides. That's what owning a service means.
So if every library needs your manager's blessing, the real problem isn't that they said no to your library. It's that nobody has defined where the team's authority starts and ends — and that ambiguity defaults to "ask permission for everything," which is how teams go slow and engineers go numb.
That conversation — "what are we actually empowered to decide ourselves?" — is worth a 1:1 far more than any single tool pitch. And if you've stopped proposing things entirely because you got shot down once: this is probably why. It was never about your tool.
The playbook in one breath
- Try without asking. Commit with the team.
- Build the demo before the argument.
- Lead with the outcome — the tool is a footnote.
- Bring numbers or don't bring it.
- Quantify the old thing. Never trash it.
- Tech lead first, everyone else second.
- Teach only after it's adopted.
And if the walls keep appearing? Fix the boundary, not the pitch.
Nick is a Senior Engineering Manager with 22+ years in engineering and 9+ years managing engineers across Google, Capital One, and multiple startups, including a successful acquisition. He writes about the craft of engineering management at Engineering Manager++.
Frequently asked questions
Do I need my manager's permission to try new technology at work?
No — not to try it. Spiking a tool on a branch, prototyping, or rebuilding something as a throwaway proof costs only your own time and needs nobody's blessing. Permission only becomes relevant when you commit: merging a dependency your team will maintain, adding a language to the build, or changing something that affects on-call. Those are team decisions, because they spend other people's future time — but they're conversations about evidence, not requests for approval.
How do I convince my manager to adopt a new tool or framework?
Don't pitch the tool — demonstrate the outcome. Build a working proof on a real problem from your codebase, measure the improvement ("integration tests went from 40 minutes to 9"), and lead with that number. The technology itself should almost be a footnote; if the demo lands, people will ask what you used. Arguments and benchmark links from a vendor's website fail even when the tool is good, because they ask everyone else to translate "nice technology" into "why this matters."
What should I do if my manager says no to a new technology?
First, check what was actually rejected. A "no" to a pitch is usually a "no" to unquantified risk, not to the technology — so come back with a working demo and measured results instead of a stronger argument. If proposals keep hitting walls even with evidence, the real problem is usually an undefined ownership boundary: nobody has agreed on what the team is empowered to decide for itself. Raising that question directly in a 1:1 — "what technology decisions do we own as a team?" — fixes more than any individual pitch.
Why do engineers' technology proposals get rejected?
The most common reasons have nothing to do with the technology's quality: the proposal leads with the tool instead of a business outcome, it doesn't quantify the current pain, it ignores maintenance cost and migration path, or it implicitly criticizes work that teammates built. Managers also think about precedent — whether saying yes once creates a recurring expectation. Proposals that answer "who maintains this, what's the migration path, and what happens when you leave the team" before being asked are the ones that get approved.
Should I ask my tech lead or my manager first about a new technology?
Tech lead first — but for pressure-testing, not permission. Your tech lead knows the failed migrations, hidden maintenance costs, and reasons the "obvious" approach was already rejected before you joined. If they find holes, you've discovered the weaknesses privately. If they're convinced, you're walking into any wider conversation with the team's most technically credible person already on your side — those proposals are effectively approved before the meeting starts.
Is it insubordination to build something without asking my manager?
Experimenting on your own time or slack time, on a branch, without touching production or committing the team to anything — no. That's initiative, and most good managers expect it. It crosses a line when you merge unreviewed dependencies, bypass a team decision that was already made explicitly, or commit others to maintaining something they never agreed to. The distinction is try versus commit: trying is individual, committing is collective. Even Google Chrome started as a prototype built while the CEO was still saying no — the demo is what changed his mind.