Thanks for the Feedback: The Science and Art of Receiving Feedback Well

by Douglas Stone

Yet simple labels also present a problem. They are simple because they are “all or nothing.” That works fine when we’re “all.” But when we get feedback that we are not all, we hear it as feedback that we are nothing. There’s no “partly all” or “sometimes all,” or “all, except for . . .” If we’re not good, we’re bad; if we’re not smart, we’re stupid; if not a saint, then a sinner.

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. We’re still “all.” Our identity story remains intact.

If you’ve got a growth identity, it’s easier to understand the mixed data. It’s information, not damnation. Instead of hearing Last week I was competent; this week a screwup, you hear Last week I was on top of things; this week I’m dropping balls. It’s not who you are, but something you did. Growth identity folks aren’t thrown by the contradiction and are motivated to seek accurate information in order to adjust and learn.

If you can see things you will work at, if you can see things you have learned and might change the next time, then you’re on your way to holding your sense of self as capable of growth and change. The experience teaches you rather than labels you.

A growth mindset is not without setbacks and disappointments. You’d hoped you were farther along this learning curve than you apparently are. Your payoff for effort is smaller than you’d hoped it might be. A growth identity is not about whether you get terrific or troubling feedback. It’s about how you hold whatever you get.

As feedback receivers, we are always sorting feedback into coaching and evaluation bins. Your choice of bin makes a huge difference in your ability to take in feedback productively. The reason is this: While identity is easily triggered by evaluation, it is far less threatened by coaching. It’s almost like getting a free pass. You can learn without enduring the arduous task of reevaluating who you are.

As we figure out how to hear evaluation, it’s helpful to break evaluation itself down into three constituent parts: assessment, consequences, and judgment.

After every low score you receive, after each failure and faltering step, give yourself a “second score” based on how you handle the first score. In every situation in life, there’s the situation itself, and then there’s how you handle it. Even when you get an F for the situation itself, you can still earn an A+ for how you deal with it. There are two pieces of good news here. 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.

You are listening to understand. The first order of business is archeological: You’re digging under labels, clarifying contours, and filling in pieces you didn’t initially see. You’re assembling all the relevant evidence and background to make sense of the size and shape of the feedback from the giver’s perspective. After that you and your internal voice can convene to decide what to do with what you’ve unearthed—how it fits together with your own view, and whether or not you are going to take their advice.

If understanding is purpose one, letting the giver know you understand (or, just as important, that you want to understand) is purpose two. Listening rewards the giver’s effort in taking the time to give you feedback, and it leaves them feeling reassured that they have been clear.

It seems paradoxical to talk about assertiveness in the context of receiving feedback. But feedback is not simply a thing the giver hands you and you receive. The two of you are building a puzzle—together. They have some of the pieces, and you have some of the pieces. When you don’t assert, you are withholding your pieces. Without your point of view and feelings the giver is unaware of whether what they’re saying is helpful, on target, or in line with your experiences.

In Getting to Yes, Roger Fisher, William Ury, and Bruce Patton make 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.

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.

Which is why you should take action. Try small experiments.

Lowering the stakes often means reframing the question you are asking yourself when it comes to feedback. If the question is “Should I go to yoga for the rest of my life?” the answer will always be no. If it’s “Should I try yoga for one morning and see what I think?” the costs drop dramatically.

It’s tough to get information to flow up an organization, and you might have to do a little hydraulic engineering to get it going. Why? Remember that most feedback givers are anxious about raising their concerns, especially upward. They worry that they will jeopardize their relationship with you—that you will disagree, be annoyed, become defensive, or retaliate. They also don’t want to hurt your feelings, embarrass you, or embarrass themselves by handling the exchange badly.

How we handle feedback in a relationship has an enormous impact on that relationship. And changing how we handle feedback can often transform that relationship.

The greatest leverage is helping the people inside the system communicate more effectively, and as between giver and receiver, it’s the receiver’s skills that have the most impact. We need to equip receivers to create pull—to drive their own learning, to seek honest mirrors as well as supportive mirrors, to speak up when they need additional appreciation or coaching or are confused about where they stand. As each receiver becomes more skilled at receiving—at creating pull—the organization gets better at it, too. We pull together.

An organizational culture is really a collection of subcultures, and those subcultures can vary tremendously from manager to manager, team to team, and department to department. You can have significant impact on your own subculture and teammates, and over time, you can invite others to join you.

If you had to pick between preaching the benefits of being a learner and modeling good learning, well, there’s no contest. In many ways, the manager is the culture: If they’re good learners, they set the tone for a learning culture.

make your endeavor to learn explicit. Encourage people to discuss your blind spots with you. Shift from blame conversations to joint contribution conversations, and start by asking what you might have contributed to the problem. Hold people accountable by showing them how you hold yourself accountable alongside them.

Our sensitivity to feedback can affect not only how we receive feedback but also how we give it. If a manager is highly sensitive to negative feedback, he may not be comfortable giving negative feedback to others; he may assume they’ll have the same painful overreactions that he does.

People who worry a lot often give an abundance of feedback as a way to gain a sense of control over their environment. People who have impossibly high standards for themselves can also hold impossibly high standards for others, resulting in a steady stream of coaching and negative evaluation, and a conspicuous silence around appreciation. And people who have trouble with impulse control are often “direct” in ways that are sometimes helpful and sometimes less so.