360, performance evaluation, development discussion, year-end check-in…a rose by another name would smell as sweet. And its thorn sting as bad, the quote must continue. Whether everything is coming up roses or not, it’s the time to face the music: it’s time for annual feedback giving at the workplace. And here I thought the scary season ended with Halloween…
Many people find 360s and the like stressful. Some cannot articulate their views well, while others find it impossible to give constructive (formerly known as ‘negative’) feedback to a close colleague without severing the relationship, and still others find formal feedback giving either a ‘you scratch my back and I’ll scratch yours’ deal or a pointless and ineffective exercise (‘my opinion won’t count anyway and giving constructive feedback makes me appear “difficult”‘).
I am in none of the above groups: I like giving and receiving feedback, not because I feel my worth is only in the eyes of others but because I believe that others can point me to new growth paths. It can be quite demotivating to never get any insight to how you’re doing, even if you are doing very well. And to that point, if you are currently performing ‘perfectly,’ you would be justified to expect more challenges, more responsibilities, and logically, a pay rise and/or a promotion, should you want these.
At my current workplace, we have a performance management tool in use where everyone can give feedback to their colleagues throughout the year. We’ve noted that ‘give feedback’ as the name of the functionality is not ideal if we wanted to encourage our people to actually do so, and we refer to this as ‘giving praise.’ That of course gives one the impression that ‘giving feedback’ equals positive comments which should not be the case, and I’ll pick that up in a moment. But I find this functionality brilliant: the way it is set up gives anyone at the company the chance to give feedback to anyone else, or a group of people, either publicly or privately, at any point of the year. I recently checked my stats on my own feedback activity: in the past year, I have received 13 pieces of feedback. I have given 26.
I was pleased to see that I had been that active (that’s one feedback given every two weeks). I also know that the feedback I have given has been meaningful: several colleagues have reached out after getting the notification of my feedback, saying they were overwhelmed and touched. Even without this direct acknowledgment I would know that the praise I give is meaningful, but getting the DMs accentuates how little feedback people actually get. If you got feedback on a frequent basis, you wouldn’t think it so unusual someone gives you credit for a job well done.
On the other hand, I thought that I could have given even more feedback. All the feedback given publicly and in an unsolicited fashion was positive. Most people find it more difficult to give constructive feedback as I noted above, especially when the receiving party hasn’t explicitly asked for it. So how can we make giving and receiving feedback regularly a business-as-usual part of our worklife?
My key words for both are professional growth. This is the main reason for which I want to give and get feedback.
I’ve talked about feedback a lot for the past few years. The first time I understood its importance was during my first year at university. I had been there for two months, studying from dawn ’til dusk, cramming hundreds of pages per course, only to have no idea if I was studying the rights things, structuring my thoughts coherently, or getting the plot at all. I submitted my first assignment at around this two-month mark and waited another month to get a grade, after a timid request for it. It was a good one, which was great, but having that figure on a piece of paper felt insufficient. Three months of non-stop reading on complex and abstract theory, on the meaning of life, on the origins of the unrest in the Near East, on the birth of international order and on its death, and this little scribble of a figure should guide me?
The difference between school and university felt enormous in this regard. My primary and secondary schooling took place in Finland, so I cannot say if the British sixth form and university diverge as much in this respect, but going from a five-period system to a two-semester one was a big change in the assessment cycle. In Finland, high schools have five periods which contain seven weeks of study and conclude with exams; most courses include plenty of quizzes, homework, and essay-writing. In high school, I was submitting assignments every week and receiving grades at a corresponding rate. There’s much to say about grading and tying one’s self-worth to numbers or letters, but that’s another matter (on which I have much to say, too, but I’d digress). I don’t know if my problem with the lack of feedback at university was that I had learnt to equate my performance to the teacher’s opinion of me or if indeed even a talented, well-performing student would benefit from some kind of periodic review, but it definitely made me value frequent feedback more.
I was once told by someone close to me that I only focus on the negative. I thought about it long and hard and came to the conclusion that it was true, but not the way they meant it. I don’t take the good for granted nor ignore it; it keeps me going, sustains me, helps me get past the negative and also to face it. Why I focus on the negative is that I find that helps me grow. If something feels good, I’ll keep at it (like my hobbies; or at work, being punctual). I don’t feel the need to second-guess it. With the negative, I want to explore why: why did this make me feel bad?
Constructive feedback should be approached the same way: do you see the point in it, or do you disagree with it? If you agree, is this something you want to and can work on? Great! Then write down moments where you exhibit a behaviour that others have pointed out as something to think on, and ask for help.
Feedback completely misplaced? Take that b**** down — I mean, take a deep breath, take a walk, have a cry, whatever you need to get the initial shock out and then come back to it and have a think. Do you have the context for the feedback? Can you think of why someone might give this kind of feedback? Very early on in my career I got a lot of feedback as part of an annual review, and bar one comment, it was all very positive. I still remember the exact words in those positive comments, too, and they led me to ponder a lot, too, but that’s something for another train track. The one piece of constructive feedback was ‘Essi needs to learn to deal with uncertainty better.’
That hit me hard. What does that mean? I couldn’t place this anonymously received feedback at all, and having had a very difficult time at the workplace in general, that sent me on a bit of a spiral (I was young). It bothered me a lot in the following weeks because I simply didn’t understand what it was referring to. I tried to guess who could have given me that feedback and why, and I have a good idea of who it was. I harbour no ill will and I now think I understand what it referred to. I disagree with the feedback, but it led me to an epiphany: it’s not uncertainty that I struggle with, but unclarity. That epiphany has truly helped me since: I don’t mind if I don’t know if something I am doing or the team is doing is going to work, but I do mind a lot if I don’t know what I or the team are doing.
The other kind of constructive feedback that is often non-existent is the one where people around you point you to uncharted areas of growth. I am fortunate to work with many people for whom I genuinely cannot give any ‘you should work on that’ feedback, but who I see perform superbly but have little room for expanding their skills. But it’s difficult to give someone pointers for their professional growth if you only see a small side of them or you don’t know what they aspire to. In my professional life, I have asked for this growth-oriented feedback several times and been quite disappointed in it: very few people have been able to direct me to new paths, instead saying that I’m good at what I am currently doing. Thanks, that’s great, but I am not challenged.
‘There is no rose without thorns’ came to mind as I toyed with idioms related to this most gorgeous of flowers. Grab it carelessly and you’ll prick a finger; pick it up delicately and it’ll fill your head with its velvety scent. The best feedback experiences I have had are like a tall, thorny rose: I take pleasure in it, and appreciate the challenges it presents.
There’s ways to help colleagues give that kind of feedback. I feel that tangible assets are the key piece lacking. Here are some I can think of, with a few other thoughts:
- Could the employees write a short self-assessment first and ask colleagues to comment on it?
- Use the company’s values as measuring sticks. If a value is ‘Treats others with respect,’ you could ask the colleague to rate one on a scale and to provide examples.
- Situational feedback: use scenarios to help people give feedback. Some people work reasonably independently, and it can be difficult to give them meaningful feedback. A simple scenario can lead to profound discoveries.
- Enable more pseudonymous feedback. Choosing the people that give feedback to you means transparency, yes, but often leads to guess work (was it Mary or Mike who said this?). This puts an extra layer of responsibility for one’s manager, for they should know their team member’s work well enough to know who they collaborate with the most. Alternatively, you could nominate a whole bunch of people to give feedback, and randomize who is asked (I wonder if such a software exists?)
- Make sure everyone knows what’s visible and to whom and where the feedback is stored.
- Reduce the pressure of once-a-year feedback and make it a more frequent and common practice. Use automation to nudge people to give feedback to each other.
- Have the leadership give feedback to each other and their team members more regularly and visibly. Make reacting to feedback a part of a leader’s role, and support them in identifying their most important growth areas and working on them.
There’s more to say, but I have rambled on for too long already. Feel free to give me feedback in the comments below – I’ll try receive it how I describe above.
Simple scenario for situational feedback
Question: How does Maggie interact in writing? Think of your email or Slack exchanges.
“She usually doesn’t type her name at the end of her emails and only uses a signature. That gives an impression that she is quite distant or that she doesn’t bother to sign emails.”
How I would interpret this: many people don’t sign but use their automated signature, so it may be an industry or a cultural practice. It can also be a personal preference that one doesn’t need to change. On the other hand, if Maggie never thought about it, it might be interesting for her to consider. She can change it or not; either way, she hopefully walks away with an increased understanding of how different people’s perceptions are.
Sidetracked 