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March 6 - March 11, 2019
Receiving feedback well doesn’t mean you always have to take the feedback.
Our triggered reactions are not obstacles because they are unreasonable. Our triggers are obstacles because they keep us from engaging skillfully in the conversation.
We each point our finger at the other, but neither of us is putting our finger on the problem.
It is smart to avoid evaluation when your purpose is coaching. Don’t say, “You’re no good,” when what you really mean to say is “Here’s how to get better.”
Reflecting on your purpose before a conversation takes place will help you to be clearer during the conversation itself.
Explicit disagreement is better than implicit misunderstanding.
Organizational culture, regional culture, and even family culture are all collections of implicit rules for “how we do things around here.” But everyone has their own individual set as well.
When something goes wrong and I am part of it, I will tend to attribute my actions to the situation; you will tend to attribute my actions to my character.
Reassurance and support are vital, and our friends and loved ones are uniquely able to offer it. But this role can put them in a bind: People we rely on for support are often hesitant to share critical, honest feedback with us.
We are often more triggered by the person giving us feedback than by the feedback itself.
So the switchtrack dynamic has four steps: we get feedback; we experience a relationship trigger; we change the topic to how we feel; and, step four, we talk past each other.
New ideas often come from those without traditional credibility, who are freer to think outside the box precisely because they don’t know there is a box.
Want to fast-track your growth? Go directly to the people you have the hardest time with. Ask them what you’re doing that’s exacerbating the situation. They will surely tell you.
While we all need to feel accepted as we are, we also need to hear feedback—particularly when our behavior is affecting others. Being accepted isn’t an escape hatch from responsibility for consequences,
Of course normal people don’t talk this way, and signposting isn’t a natural move for most of us. It requires us to step outside the conversation and look in on it. In fact, it’s that absence of flow that is one of the reasons it’s so helpful. It breaks the normal reactive conversation pattern by being hyper-explicit about what’s going on.
That’s Systems Insight Number Two: Each of us sees only part of the problem (the part the other person is contributing). Systems Insight Number One is this: Each of us is part of the problem. Maybe not to the same extent, but we’re both involved, each affecting the other.
When we don’t understand the system that produces the feedback, we often make the mistake of trying to adjust just one component of the system, and expect that to solve the whole problem.
Feedback can be threatening because it prompts questions about the most challenging relationship you have: your relationship with yourself.
Our emotions have so profound an influence on how we interpret what happens and the stories we tell about it that, in the wake of upsetting feedback, our upset itself distorts what we think the feedback means.
One of the biggest blocks to receiving feedback well is that we exaggerate it.
As you observe how you feel (or remember how you felt), try to name the feeling: anxiety, shame, anger, sadness, surprise. Work hard to notice how the feeling feels—physically—the same way you would describe the physical symptoms of food poisoning or the flu.
In addition, when in the grip of upsetting feedback, we often fail to distinguish between consequences that will happen and consequences that might happen.
Ask yourself how significant today’s events are likely to seem in the grand scheme of things. You might still find the current feedback challenging or the news regrettable, but in your final days, you’re much more likely to regret the time you spent fretting.
The ability to laugh at yourself is also an indicator that you are ready and able to take feedback. Laughing at yourself requires you to loosen your grip on your identity. You have to align yourself with the world and to let go of trying to align the world to you.
In fact, we often learn the most from the feedback that in the moment is the most distressing.
From the outside we look fine, and so we get well-meaning advice from friends about maintaining a good attitude, looking on the bright side, and staying active. But when we are really struggling, that sort of counsel is as useless as yelling “just float!” to someone who is drowning.
Identity is the story we tell ourselves about ourselves—what we’re like, what we stand for, what we’re good at, what we’re capable of.
We can even be triggered by information that isn’t about us. The girl you used to work the register with at KFC was named head of NASA and your nursery school nemesis just announced he’s taking his company public. You feel happy enough for them, yet somehow worse about yourself. Because identity stories are influenced by how we are doing relative to those around us, our peers become the yardsticks we use to gauge how we measure up.2
Our ability to metabolize challenging feedback is driven by the particular way we tell our identity story. Some people tell their identity story in ways that cause their identity to be brittle, while others tell their identity story in ways that allow it to be robust.
In our struggle to cope, we spot the other choice: Keep the feedback out. If we can figure out why the feedback is flawed or off base, if we can do some skillful wrong spotting, then we can “deny” the feedback and preserve our current sense of self. We’re safe.
All-or-nothing identities present us with this choice: Either we can exaggerate the feedback, or we can deny it. And often, we end up toggling between the two.
You will make mistakes, you have complex intentions, and you have contributed to the problem. Accepting these is a lifelong project, but working on them makes hard feedback easier to take in.
First, while the initial evaluation may not be fully within your control, your reaction to it usually is. And second, in the long term, the second score is often more important than the first.
If you’re unsure if the coaching is optional or mandatory, discuss it explicitly. And if you decide not to take the coaching, don’t assume the giver knows why. Explain your reasons carefully.
Keep this front and center: No matter what growing you have to do, and regardless of how right (or not) the feedback may be, if the person giving you the feedback is not listening to you and doesn’t care about its impact on you, something is wrong.
The biggest mistake we make when trying to create boundaries is that we assume other people understand what’s going on with us.
Letting givers know what they can help you with may be the incentive they need to cut down on the advice you don’t want to hear about. And it lays a helpful foundation for erecting other boundaries if you need them.
We figure we can draw clear boundaries most easily with a simple bottom-line message—yes, no, not right now—and so our impulse is to keep the complexity or confusion hidden. But often sharing complex feelings along with the message actually makes establishing the boundary easier.
Don’t confuse asserting with “asserting truth” or with being certain. You can be assertive about your point of view even as you are aware that it’s your point of view and not necessarily the entire story; you can be assertive about your ambivalence; you can be assertive about feeling doubt.
We are wired for empathy, but only toward those who we believe are behaving well.
Surprisingly, interrupting periodically (to ensure that you understand the giver, rather than to assert your contrasting view) can be a sign that you are listening well.
Effective assertion hinges on a key mindset shift: You aren’t seeking to persuade the giver that you are right. You’re not trying to replace their truth with your truth. Instead, you’re adding what’s “left out.” And what’s most often left out is your data, your interpretations, and your feelings.
a distinction that is crucial to problem solving: the difference between interests and positions. Positions are what people say they want or demand. Interests are the underlying “needs, desires, fears, and concerns” that the stated position intends to satisfy.7 Often interests can be met by a variety of options, some different from what anyone sees at the outset.
To solve the real problem, you have to understand the real interests.
One last way to seek out one change that could have a big impact is to ask: “What’s one thing I could change that would make a difference to you?”
In any event, we try to be analytical about the feedback we get, considering pros and cons, weighing different options, and finally doing what makes sense. But here’s the challenge: In any contest between change and the status quo, the status quo has home field advantage. All things being equal, we won’t change.
When things are going well, feedback can feel threatening, and not just because it suggests we have something to learn or aren’t yet perfect. It’s threatening because it is asking us to let go of something that’s comfortable and predictable. We’re already doing just fine, and even if we’re not, at least we’re aware of the consequences.
Unpleasant things are less unpleasant when you have company.
Workers who seek out negative feedback—coaching on what they can improve—tend to receive higher performance ratings.
