Critical feedback is essential in improving professional performance, but all too often the ways we think about and provide feedback are inadequate or even counter-productive:
So if we want our critical feedback to be truly useful to the recipient and not merely an exercise in self-indulgence, we owe it to our colleagues to be more thoughtful and intentional in how we deliver it. A valuable model in this context is known as "supportive confrontation," developed by David Bradford [4] and Allan Cohen and discussed at length in their book Power Up. [5] It involves a series of three escalating approaches to feedback conversations, followed by a fourth step that should be included in most circumstances:
But before we consider how to deliver our feedback, it's worth asking why we're motivated to provide it in the first place. As Peter Block has noted, "the wish to get others to be different is a wish to control them, which in itself creates its own resistance," and I see this dynamic frequently in my coaching practice. [6] Organizational life is sometimes nothing more than a series of power struggles, with leaders and employees alike striving to exert control as a means of easing their anxiety. This doesn't imply that our critical feedback for a colleague is invalid or inaccurate--but such feedback does reflect a wish on our part for them to be different, and we should be honest with ourselves about the extent to which this is influenced by our need for greater control in this particular relationship.
In addition, much critical feedback stems from differences in working styles, and as Bradford and Cohen note, "There is nothing inherently superior about one style of behavior or the other; in fact, diversity is required for high performance in a complex, interdependent world. One style can be useful for some problems and limiting for others." [7] While our preferred style may in fact be more effective in a given situation, we should also be honest with ourselves about the extent to which our critical feedback may simply reflect our preference for behavior that feels familiar and comfortable. As I wrote recently, "feedback always says as much about the giver as the recipient. It's filtered through their reality-distortion fields, reflecting their personal values and priorities." [8] In some cases we may be best served not by seeking to change the other person's behavior through feedback, but by letting go of our preferences and recognizing the value of a wider range of working styles. [9]
All that said, there are obviously many circumstances in which critical feedback is necessary if we are to effect change in our working relationships and help colleagues achieve their professional goals, and in these situations I find Bradford and Cohen's framework immensely useful. Section 1 below discusses a range of concepts at length, while Sections 2-4 provide shorter additions to the model, followed by a 12-point summary.
The first step in supportive confrontation involves the simplest feedback model: When you do [X], I feel [Y].
It's important to be specific about behavior [X], rather than speak in broad generalities. In some cases this is best accomplished by providing feedback promptly, so that the details are more easily recalled and agreed-upon by both parties. In the absence of a shared understanding of the specific behavior, feedback conversations can devolve into arguments about what did or did not occur. However, note that situations that result in critical feedback often trigger strong emotions, and, further, feedback conversations themselves can feel threatening, particularly when we don't have them regularly. [10] When we're in the grip of such feelings our ability to communicate effectively can be impaired--this applies to both the feedback giver and the recipient--so it may be preferable to allow some time to elapse before initiating the conversation.
It's equally important to be specific regarding emotion [Y], which sounds easy but can be surprisingly difficult in the moment. We may lack a precise word for the relevant feeling, or the other party's definition for that emotion may not be the same as ours, increasing the risk of misunderstanding. So it can be very useful to expand our emotional vocabulary, particularly if our family, our cultural background, or our education and training haven't emphasized a wide range of nuanced feeling-words. [11]
There are several reasons for disclosing our feelings in this model. First, emotions are attention magnets--their fundamental purpose is to orient us to potential threats and opportunities, so when we employ the appropriate feeling-words (neither too strong nor too weak) our feedback will automatically capture and hold the other party's interest. Also, disclosing our emotions is less likely to evoke a defensive response than making attributions about the other party's motives. As David Bradford and Mary Ann Huckabay have written:
Most of us act like amateur psychologists in that we try to figure out why others act as they do. If you interrupt me (a behavior) and I feel annoyed (the effect on me), I try and understand why you would do that. So I make an attribution of your motives (it must be that you are inconsiderate)...
As common as this attribution process is, it also can be dysfunctional. Note that my sense-making is a guess. That is my hunch as to why you act the way you do. I am "crossing over the net" from what is my area of expertise (that I am annoyed at your behavior), to your area of expertise (your motives and intentions). My imputation of your motives can always be debated, ("You don't listen." "Yes, I do." "No you don't.") whereas sticking with my own feelings and reactions is never debatable. ("I felt irritated by your interruption just now." "You shouldn't feel that way because I didn't mean to interrupt you." "Perhaps not, but I feel irritated nonetheless.") [12]