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August 26 - September 24, 2021
It doesn’t matter how much authority or power a feedback giver has; the receivers are in control of what they do and don’t let in, how they make sense of what they’re hearing, and whether they choose to change.
Receiving feedback sits at the intersection of these two needs—our drive to learn and our longing for acceptance.
Nothing affects the learning culture of an organization more than the skill with which its executive team receives 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.
The very first task in assessing feedback is figuring out what kind of feedback we are dealing with. Broadly, feedback comes in three forms: appreciation (thanks), coaching (here’s a better way to do it), and evaluation (here’s where you stand).
Our perception of feedback is inevitably influenced (and sometimes tainted) by who is giving it to us. We can be triggered by something about the giver—their (lack of) credibility, (un)trustworthiness, or (questionable) motives.
In practice, we almost never do this. Instead, as receivers, we take up the relationship issues and let the original feedback drop.
Trying to talk about both topics simultaneously is like mixing your apple pie and your lasagna into one pan and throwing it in the oven. No matter how long you bake it, it’s going to come out a mess.
feedback is not only happening in the context of a relationship; it’s created by the relationship itself. Embedded in the hurly-burly of every relationship is a unique pairing of sensitivities, preferences, and personalities. It is the nature of our particular pairing—rather than either of us individually—that creates friction. The giver is telling us that we need to change, and in response we think: “You think the problem is me? That’s hilarious, because the problem is very obviously you.” The problem is not that I am oversensitive; it’s that you are insensitive.
So feedback in relationships is rarely the story of you or me. It’s more often the story of you and me. It’s the story of our relationship system. When they blame you, and it feels unfair, blaming them back is not the answer. To them, that will seem unfair, and worse, they’ll assume you’re making excuses. Instead, work to understand it this way: “What’s the dynamic between us and what are we each contributing to the problem?”
When her boss comments that she’ll need to be “on her game” at tomorrow’s meeting, she wonders whose game her boss thinks she’s been on up to now. Does he think I don’t know what I’m doing? Does he think I don’t understand the importance of the meeting?
Sounds like me. :)
Appreciation is fundamentally about relationship and human connection. At a literal level it says, “thanks.” But appreciation also conveys, “I see you,” “I know how hard you’ve been working,” and “You matter to me.”
Appreciation motivates us—it gives us a bounce in our step and the energy to redouble our efforts. When people complain that they don’t get enough feedback at work, they often mean that they wonder whether anyone notices or cares how hard they’re working. They don’t want advice. They want appreciation.
When we’re under pressure to get things done, our feelings of anxiety, frustration, and anger about what’s wrong trump any feelings of appreciation, even if, upon reflection, we really are appreciative. Over time, appreciation deficits set in. And these often become two-way: I think you don’t appreciate all I do and all I put up with, and you think I don’t appreciate whatever-it-is you do. Call it Mutual Appreciation Deficit Disorder (MADD), and you have the ingredients for a troubled working relationship.
Is your primary goal coaching, evaluation, or appreciation? Are you trying to improve, to assess, or to say thanks and be supportive? You won’t always be able to fit the messiness of real life into these clean categories, but it’s worth trying.
In our minds, we have a high-definition movie that captures all that we mean by those labels—the bad behavior, the angry tone, the irritating habits that we endure. When we use a label, we’re seeing that movie, and it’s painfully clear. It’s easy to forget that when we convey the label to someone else, the movie is not attached. All they’re hearing is a few vague words. This means that even when we “take” the feedback, it’s easy to misconstrue the meaning.
The most common advice about feedback is this: Be specific. It’s good advice—but it’s not specific enough.
Feedback givers arrive at their labels in two steps: (1) they observe data, and (2) they interpret that data—they tell a story about what it means.
People don’t typically offer their raw observations as feedback. They first “interpret” or filter what they see based on their own past experiences, values, assumptions, and implicit rules about the world.
It is said that all advice is autobiographical, and this, in part, is what is meant. We interpret what we see based on our own life experiences, assumptions, preferences, priorities, and implicit rules about how things work and how one should be. I understand your life through the lens of my life; my advice for you is based on me.
The process of moving from data to interpretation happens in the blink of an eye and is largely unconscious. Artificial intelligence expert Roger Schank has an observation about this: He notes that while computers are organized around managing and accessing data, human intelligence is organized around stories.
you might or might not choose to follow someone’s advice. But we can test whether advice is clear by asking this: If you do want to follow the advice, would you know how to do so?
We know that the feedback is wrong or off target because we have our own experiences and views, and our views are not the same as theirs. Therefore, theirs are wrong. The only other choice would seem to be that their views are right and ours are wrong, but that seems even less likely.
As receivers, we shouldn’t use our views to dismiss the giver’s views, but neither should we discard our own. Working to first understand their views doesn’t mean we pretend we don’t have life experiences or opinions. Instead, we need to understand their views even as we’re aware of our own. And that’s almost impossible to do unless we make a key shift—away from that’s wrong and toward tell me more: Let’s figure out why we see this differently.
We don’t notice what we don’t notice, so we don’t notice that we don’t notice.
Life would be a lot easier if we routinely asked that question about different data. But we don’t. Why? Because wrong spotting is so much more compelling than difference spotting. Being aware of what they see that we don’t is just not as delicious as listening for how they’re wrong. And once we spot an error, we can’t contain ourselves; we have to jump in and set things straight. But we have to fight that instinct. We have to consciously and persistently choose to ask about their data and share our own.
No matter how clearly you define the criteria and the metrics, somebody has to apply the criteria to a person’s performance, and that involves making judgments. If advice is autobiographical, so is evaluation. The evaluation we give people is a reflection of our own (or our organization’s) preferences, assumptions, values, and goals. They might be broadly shared or idiosyncratic, but either way, they are ours.
The goal shouldn’t be to remove interpretation or judgment. It should be to make judgments thoughtfully, and once made, to have them be transparent and discussable.
You can’t see yourself more clearly just by looking harder. Here’s why: When you do take a good hard look, what you’ll see is that you don’t have any blind spots and that the feedback is wrong. You will wonder about the cause of this wrong feedback, and your mind will slide into an explanation about the ulterior motives or personality disorders of those who gave you the feedback. We have the same Gap Map reaction to them as they do to us, just in reverse. We know that we are upset by wrong feedback and assume that others are giving it to us intentionally.
Instead, ask (the feedback giver, not your nine-year-old): “What do you see me doing, or failing to do, that is getting in my own way?” This question is more specific about the honesty you desire as well as your interest in the impact you have on others. It’s also a narrower and easier question for others to answer. They may start timidly (“Well, on occasion I suppose that you sometimes . . .”), but if you respond with genuine curiosity and appreciation, they’ll be able to paint you a picture that is clear, detailed, and useful.
We can disqualify the giver on any number of grounds—the most common involving trust, credibility, and the (lack of) skill or judgment with which they deliver their feedback. And once we disqualify the giver, we reject the substance of the feedback without a second thought. Based on the who, we discard the what.
We are (often justifiably) outraged by where, when, and how, and a classic switchtrack ensues. We engage in a heated exchange about how inappropriate it was that our anger management problem was raised in front of a client, but never circle back to discuss the actual anger management problem. I’m on my track, you’re on yours, and we soon lose sight of each other.
the question of intentions is a separate topic from the accuracy or helpfulness of feedback. The giver might be jealous or mean-spirited or totally nuts, and yet their feedback might be dead right, the most useful thing we’ve heard in months. Or maybe they really and truly do have our best interests at heart. But their suggestion that you wear those yellow leather leggings to the office? Still a bad idea.
When we are under stress or in conflict we lose skills we normally have, impact others in ways we don’t see, are at a loss for positive strategies. We need honest mirrors in these moments, and often that role is played best by those with whom we have the hardest time. If that overseas client thinks you’re an idiot, then there’s something going on that you’re not “getting,” and without her help, you’re not going to get it. It may be a cultural difference that you need to understand if you’re going to be effective in her market. It may be that your tone and word choice are upsetting her in ways
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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.
The first type of relationship trigger derives from what we think about the feedback giver. The second type comes from how we feel treated by them. Whether professional or personal, casual or intimate, we expect many things from our relationships. Among these there are three key relationship interests that commonly get snagged on the brambles of feedback: our needs for appreciation, autonomy, and acceptance.
If we’re going to have better conversations about feedback, we need a better handle on the ways that giver and receiver (and often others) are contributing to the problem under discussion. This helps us move beyond blame and defensiveness and toward understanding, and it also produces more durable solutions. Often when we look at a relationship system, we discover simple things each of us can change that will have a big impact on the whole.
One important role pattern is called “accidental adversaries.”3 If two people bump into each other enough and cause each other enough frustration, each will begin considering the other an “adversary.” Each attributes the problem to the personality and questionable intentions of the other. But often the true culprit is the structure of the roles they are in, which are (accidentally) creating chronic conflict. If we are each at one end of a rope and our job is to pull, then merely doing our jobs creates a tug-of-war.
In these conversations, there are two big messages you are trying to send: First, I take responsibility for my part, and second, we are both contributing to this. It is sometimes hard to send both of those messages in the same conversation. They are consistent and logical, but to the person giving you feedback, they can sound contradictory. So think about whether the giver will be able to hear both messages in one conversation, and if not, start by taking responsibility, and once that’s settled in, circle back and talk about your observations about the system and your requests of them.
Feedback can be threatening because it prompts questions about the most challenging relationship you have: your relationship with yourself. Are you a good person? Do you deserve your own respect? Can you live with yourself? Forgive yourself?
Your particular wiring—how sensitive or insensitive you are, how quickly you bounce back—influences how you experience both positive and negative feedback. Understanding your wiring will help you to understand your own emotional reactions when receiving feedback.
If our stories are a result of our feelings plus our thoughts, then we can change our stories by working to change either our feelings or our thoughts. So there are two ways in.
The strong feelings triggered by feedback can cause us to distort our thinking about the past, the present, and the future. Learning to regain our balance so that we can accurately assess the feedback is first a matter of rewinding our thoughts and straightening them out. Once we’ve gotten the feedback in realistic perspective, we have a real shot at learning from it.
If you’re about to get some news—perhaps you’re awaiting word from colleges or funders or the Nobel Prize Committee—a useful way to manage your own tendencies is to imagine that the news is bad. Think through in advance the worst that could happen, try it on emotionally, and reason through the possible consequences. If that sounds like advice to be pessimistic, it’s actually the opposite. It is a reminder that whatever the outcome, you’ll be able to manage.
During the feedback conversation itself, periodically check in on yourself and slow things down. Self-observation awakens your left prefrontal cortex—which is where the pleasures associated with learning are located.
What’s the actual feedback? Our mind takes what was said and immediately tells a story. It’s important to peel back that story and ask yourself, what exactly was the feedback? What was said?
There’s often a kind of “last straw” dynamic to this. Over the years, you’ve gotten bits of feedback that have piled up. Each individual piece of feedback seems like nothing—just another weightless comment—and you’ve kept it all in proportion. Until now. This most recent bit of feedback is suddenly, unaccountably, more than you can bear.
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.
Humor forces your brain to shift into a different emotional state. It taps that positive left side of your prefrontal cortex, where amusement lives. When you think something is funny, you are helping to disrupt the panic and anxiety that are taking hold, and to calm down those upsetting signals.
Life can be messy and confusing, and simple identity labels remind us of our values and priorities, of what we’re trying to live up to. If I’m a man of my word, well, that settles it. I may be tempted to break my commitment, and I can even justify doing so . . . but that’s not who I am.
