It was that time of the month again for my regular check-ins with the team – an opportunity to both listen and offer feedback.
“So, Daniel, I wanted to work with you on a couple of areas that were highlighted to me as potential areas of improvement.”
His lips tightened immediately. He leaned back in his chair and folded his arms, ending the conversation before it had even begun.
“We’ve recently identified some communication gaps in –”
I had barely started outlining the actionable steps he could take when I felt the shift in his demeanour and found myself running into a barricade of defensive manoeuvres.
“Oh, did Felicia say this about me? I can explain everything. When I received the brief …”
“Okay, just to be clear, Daniel,” I tried to get a word in. “I would simply like to see how we can improve on our –”
“… the brief was really unclear, and I don’t think it’s fair that I should be blamed for this. Also …”
I hadn’t said much at that point, but Daniel was stacking justification upon justification to defend himself. I listened, nodded and tried to seek the right timing to steer the conversation back to the topic of improvement, but I could hardly get a word in.
Needless to say, it was not a very productive feedback session.
WHY CRITICISM FEELS PERSONAL
Nobody likes receiving negative feedback. And frankly, it’s not that enjoyable giving it either.
Even if we welcome feedback, our first reaction to it is often visceral.
The fight-or-flight response is triggered, and if the latter isn’t an option, then it’s time to get ready to rumble.
The mind starts racing: “This is not about work. It’s because you don’t like me.”
And the words that follow, constructive or otherwise, land like limp arrows at the gate of an impenetrable fortress.