The Thorny Issue of Feedback

"It takes humility to seek feedback. It takes wisdom to understand it, analyze it and appropriately act on it."
~ Stephen Covey

Are you open to some feedback?

It's such a simple way to drive fear into the heart of any recovering perfectionist.

Despite my professed love of learning, being asked if I'd like feedback still has me feeling like I've been summoned to see the headmaster - I've finally been found out!

I've been asked a few times recently about how to be more open to receiving feedback and how to give feedback well without projecting your internal critic all over someone else.

I'm actually not sure I'm the best person to write about this. I still find it overwhelming to receive affirming feedback so I often end up tuning it out. I can obsess over differential feedback, even as I'm desperate for it - little frustrates me than being offered no points to improve on. And I'm usually far quicker to see the opportunities for upgrades, as my public speaking coach puts it, than I am to offer reflections of what went well.

You might recognise your relationship with feedback in mine. You may also be someone who grasps praise and runs at full speed away from any kind of criticism, no matter how kindly delivered. Maybe you find it all but impossible to offer someone else ideas for improvement.

As always, there is no right way to be. Judging and shaming yourself for your relationship to feedback is about as much use as a chocolate teapot. Instead, what would it be like to get a little more curious about what giving and receiving feedback feel like for you? If you would like to change your relationship with feedback - and you really don't have to - noticing with as much curiosity and compassion as you can muster is the first step.

Notice what you do in your body. Which direction do you move? Towards, away, up, down? Where do you tighten and contract? Where do you open and soften? What sensations do you notice? What's your internal dialogue saying?

Noticing how you deal with feedback in your body will give you some great clues about what you could do differently - hint, try the opposite.

I'd also like to reflect on a bit of amateur psychology here too, namely two forms of bias.

We all have bias. Human beings are assumption-making machines. If we didn't have these heuristics, we'd be completely overwhelmed by the sheer volume of information our brains process every second.

Feedback, especially receiving feedback, plays on two biases in my experience: confirmation bias and negativity bias. Our brains love to prove themselves right so are constantly highlighting information that supports our existing beliefs and will ignore contradictory information. We're also primed to notice 'negative' things more than 'positive' ones. It probably offered a survival advantage to our ancestors to notice threats more quickly than the pretty butterflies.

So, we're much more attuned to critical feedback, especially if we already hold critical beliefs about ourselves. I've heard one idea that we need to receive 3 times as much positive praise as critical feedback in order to even notice the positive (I don't have a reference for this so don't necessarily take it literally).

Knowing all this can help shape the way you offer and request feedback.

As I said, I still struggle with feedback so let me share some of the things I am actively practising.

When I first started running workshops, I’d hand out post-it notes at the end and ask people to leave a note with something they loved on one side of the wall and something they would have like to have been different on the other side.

  1. Consent. Ask if someone would like feedback. Keep checking back in if you need to. If you're not open to feedback, especially straight after doing the thing when you might be feeling all the feels, say no and suggest another time that would be more supportive.

  2. Go slow. Allow time for the person receiving feedback to digest it. If you're getting feedback, don't be afraid to ask for a pause to allow you to notice how you're responding and if you're in a habitual pattern. This goes for praise as much as suggestions (even more so if you're like me!).

  3. Keep coming back to Centre. As soon as you notice you're grasping or resisting feedback, come back to centre - feel your feet on the floor and take a few easy breaths finding length in your spine and relaxing the muscles down the front of your body. This is also a practical way to support someone else receiving feedback - steadying your nervous system will help them co-regulate. (If you're new to centring, check out my Finding Calm tiny course for some helpful resources).

  4. Be specific. Feedback is only helpful if it's actionable so the more specific you are, the easier it is to either replicate what worked or to tweak what didn't. Explain what worked for you and offer specific suggestions for improvement.

  5. The Bathtub Method - also known as the Shit Sandwich. These are both cliches but they do point to an important tool in feedback. Always start with what worked before offering suggested upgrades (again, making sure you get consent for both). I also like to finish with a final reflection of what went well because most of us are so bad at receiving this fully. If you're getting feedback, ask for someone to deliver it in this order. I also make sure to ask someone to give themselves feedback before offering my own; people tend to learn more from their own observation then I can build on what they've shared or highlight anything they've missed.

  6. Don't overdo it. There is a temptation to offer or want too much feedback. This becomes counter-productive because there's only so much we can action. So be judicious giving feedback. What 3 things went well that they should keep doing and what is one thing that would make a difference for next time? Keep it simple.


I'd love to hear your strategies for dealing with feedback. What works for you? Let's crowdsource some good ideas!

Previous
Previous

Authentic Communication in Everyday Life

Next
Next

On The Other Side of Perfectionism