Excellence brings the confidence to ask for feedback, constantly.
Changi Airport's toilets may just be the cleanest in the world.
“There are no two words more harmful in the English language than ‘good job’”. Thus speaks JK Simmons’ obsessive jazz conductor in Whiplash, the recent film about the hard road to success set in an elite New York music school. I loved the film, even if I don't subscribe to JK's feedback style.
Feedback’s a funny thing. Generally if I ask people at work whether they like giving feedback, the answer is almost always a resounding no, followed by an explanation along the lines of “no-one likes giving difficult messages”. That reaction speaks volumes: it presupposes that feedback is critical in nature. Which, of course, it sometimes is. It needn’t always be.
As humans we are conditioned to focus on the negatives. The problems, the weaknesses, the things we’re not very good at. Working as a development professional in a global law firm, I thought this was something peculiar to lawyers - trained to spot flaws, see risks and identify problems. Perhaps it is more acute in law (a profession, by the way, with a higher than average incidence of psycopathy, sociopathy and depression) but legal professionals are by no means alone. From childhood we’re told what not to do; at school we focus overwhelmingly on the things we’re not good at. We obsess over the ‘C’ in maths yet spend little time focussing on the ‘A’ in art. Through life, whether it’s college, sport or work we’re told to ‘work our weaknesses’ but spend comparatively little time reflecting on our strengths. There are thousands, if not hundreds of thousands of studies into the causes of depression, yet few studies into the causes of true happiness. Everyone knows that one in three marriages ends in divorce, yet we spend little time looking at the two in three successful marriages. We rarely ask ourselves: “what went right?”.
Why should things be like this? Behavioural psychologists have spent years studying this trait, developing theories of ‘strengths based learning’ and tools like the Clifton Strengthsfinder 2.0. Strengths based learning holds that we all have innate strengths which lie within us in unique combinations. That combination of strengths informs the things we are intuitively good at - what comes easy to us - as well as the lens through which we view the world. Strengths will vary from person to person yet to the individual they will feel natural, even ordinary. So much so that often when we discover our strengths our reaction is disappointment (“that’s not a strength - surely everyone does that?!”). Yet our strengths - call them talents if you will - define who we are.
I recently took an online strengths assessment and learned a lot about myself. How I commonly think and feel about stuff suddenly made sense. Including: why random ideas constantly pop into my head; why I have little time for detail but find it easy to see order where others see chaos; why I imagine the future in images and think about strategy in soundbites; why I’m impatient for action; why I revel in taking something good and making it great; why I have little time for mediocrity; and why I should always ensure people focus on my outputs and results because my process is often not pretty. Crucially I now realise why it was so irritating to be hassled by my parents about how I was revising for school exams, when I intuitively knew that only the result mattered. (I could never understand why a school report containing an ‘A‘ for attainment and a ‘C‘ for effort should be a cause for concern. Now I know it shouldn’t be.) And happily the assessment told me I should seek out a role where I can generate ideas, think creatively, provide strategic input and contribute to maximising the development of others - pretty much my current job description.
So what of those things we’re not good at? Can we just ignore our weaknesses? In a word, no. Left unchecked our weaknesses can overshadow or even derail our strengths. Strengths based development theory tells us not that we should ignore our weaknesses, but that trying to change them will yield limited results for the effort put in. Much better to work around them, or use our strengths to develop strategies to mitigate them. Creative but disorganised? Partner with the most organised person you can find. Forthright but not empathetic? Tell people outright that they need to be clear with you how they’re feeling as you’re never going to figure it out yourself.
So in a strengths-focussed world is there a place for feedback? Most definitely. We must acknowledge, manage and mitigate the impact of our weaknesses. Yet at the same time we must play to our strengths. Find ways to exploit them, opportunities to celebrate them and jobs that allow us to express them. That way lies motivation, fulfilment and happiness - something to which I can personally attest.
Feedback works both ways. Of course if there’s an area for improvement then it needs discussion - not necessarily in the language of ‘change’ but perhaps in the language of ‘management’. But let's not lose sight of what we’re good at. The stuff we do brilliantly, every day. The stuff we love, the stuff that comes so naturally to us it seems commonplace. Don’t overlook it: recognise it, embrace it and celebrate it, even in small ways. In other words, never forget to give positive feedback. Quite often just two simple words will do: “good job”.
