On Learning to Accept Criticism

You’ve probably heard about the compliment sandwich. The idea is if you want to criticize something you should start and end with something positive so the criticism isn’t too painful. I’ve always thought this takes a rather dim view of human resilience. Are people so fragile that they can’t accept criticism by itself? Do we really need to think up two meaningless compliments just to pass on some potentially useful feedback?

What makes this confusing, is that in other ways, we are taught that criticism should be embraced. The Silicon Valley motto fail fast is based on the idea that the quicker we fail and are told why, the quicker we can improve. Part of Gordon Ramsay’s appeal is the idea that relentless criticism makes people better chefs. It seems we can’t decide if negative feedback should be diluted due to the harm it causes, or celebrated as a way of improving performance. I see clients struggle with this ambivalence in sessions. Wanting to know their weaknesses, but being terrified of how they might react when they discover them. Liking the idea of accepting and growing from criticism in theory but realising that they usually react with anger or self-hatred whenever confronted with feedback.

The problem is dealing effectively with criticism is a skill that not everyone has. Some people can embrace and make meaningful adjustments after the harshest criticism, but for most of us negative feedback is just as likely to cause us to give up or get angry. Like most things in life, the best way to get better at receiving negative feedback is through practice. If you put yourself in enough situations where you receive negative feedback, eventually you can start reacting to it in a way that is more considered. Before you do that though, here are two basic concepts that can make dealing with negative feedback easier.

Criticism isn’t an attack.

Our formative experiences of receiving criticism are usually from when someone was angry at us. Our parents telling us we made a mess, a friend letting us know we hurt them. As a result, our default response to criticism tends to be either apologising or trying to defend ourselves. The problem is these types of responses can get in the way of actually taking the feedback on board. Apologising when your tennis coach tells you that you’re holding the racquet wrong is a waste of time, as is explaining that usually you hold the racquet the right way but your hand just slipped. Watch an adult taking lessons in a new skill though and it’s amazing how often they will give this type of response, no matter how gently and patiently the feedback was given. These responses are so deeply ingrained it can be difficult to discard them, even if they are completely inappropriate for the situation at hand. The next time you find yourself apologising or defending yourself in response to criticism try and catch yourself. Is the person I’m talking to really interested in hearing this? Or is it just getting in the way of properly understanding what they’re saying.

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Believing we can Change

If we are to take on feedback, we need to actually believe that we can make the changes that are being suggested. Unfortunately, our own self-image and preconceived ideas about our capability are often surprisingly rigid. This can lead to potentially helpful feedback being ignored.

I’ve always thought of myself as relatively uncoordinated. I try and make up for this by pushing myself hard whenever I’m exercising. What I lack in coordination I’ll make up for in effort. A couple of months ago I was working out with a friend of mine and started really struggling. I was throwing a heavy medicine ball over my shoulder and my technique was terrible, using my arms and upper back instead of my legs. Every few seconds I’d have to stop and suck air into my lungs desperately. My friend kept telling me how I could make the exercise easier, but I was convinced that wouldn’t help. “What he is saying probably works for a normal person, but you’re uncoordinated. Just keep pushing through and suffering, that’s what you’re good at,” was some version of what my oxygen starved brain was thinking. My self-image as an uncoordinated person was so rigid, I didn’t believe I could improve my technique with a simple exercise. The feedback was specific, kind and coming from someone I trusted, yet in that moment I was unable to do anything with it.

Convincing ourselves we are capable of change can be difficult, but it’s an important part of taking on feedback. Perhaps that’s one reason elite sportspeople are so good at receiving criticism. Throughout their career they have seen themselves make massive improvements in a range of areas. Any criticism is therefore seen as something temporary, not a sign of a core falling that will never leave them. For the rest of us, the belief that we are capable of change needs to be developed, each small improvement we make logged as evidence in our own internal model. I’ve been trying to apply this concept myself when it comes to exercising. I’ve now managed to learn how to throw a medicine ball effectively, and I try and remember this when people give me feedback while working out. Hopefully the next time someone tells me I’m doing an exercise wrong I’ll actually listen.