NO, I’M NOT referring to myself; though there are days when I feel misunderstood. The misunderstood motivator is Praise. When I’m praised correctly—and there are myriad incorrect ways to offer praise—I feel most understood and appreciated.
Have you ever felt suspicious when praised? You’re not alone. I believe suspicion of praise is universal because it so frequently precedes criticism (which I will discuss). For example, “I really enjoyed your solo. It was beautiful. Now can I give you a few hints on your wardrobe and stage presence?” See how this compliment was yanked away like a rug from under the singer? This happens so often that when we hear a compliment we can’t help but wait for the other shoe to drop.
Regardless, I contend that praise remains the most effective motivator and disciplinarian there is. Effective and genuine praise does far more than make people feel good. They tend to do voluntarily what they are praised for. But if they are criticized they will do just what they need to to get by.
Offering praise communicates and reinforces your values. And when praise is specific—as I will discuss more fully—it appears more authentic and increases your credibility, regardless of your role.
PRAISE AS PART OF YOUR ARSENAL
We know very little about praise, but it can be a dynamic tool. In my opinion, it is the single most powerful teaching weapon we have.
Praise has to be believable to work effectively, and people seem to feel as uneasy about praise as they do about criticism. They distrust it instinctively for they think criticism will follow, so praise has to be given with care.
My first praise principle is that if you plan to praise people, never follow it with criticism. If you do, from then on, whenever people hear a compliment from you (no matter how sincere), they will also hear in their minds, “. . . but . . .”
I’m not saying you cannot or should not criticize people when necessary. If you must, criticize first, then leave them with praise. You might tell an employee, “You know, I’m really upset about the way you handled that shipping problem yesterday afternoon. It did no good to blame the distribution staff, as overworked and underresourced as they are right now. You or someone you delegated should have simply apologized unconditionally to the customer and made sure the shipment went out immediately. That’s the way you’ve been trained, and you have demonstrated that attitude many times. That’s why you’re in the position you’re in. Though I want you to remember to respond the way you know is best in the future, I also want to tell you that your overall work has been exemplary. Specifically, your monthly reports are always right on the mark, giving me the information I need in a format that makes me look good when I pass them along. I know you can do that well in all areas, and I’m counting on you to do that.”
I often ask my seminar students, “What is it that makes good praise?”
Almost invariably, they’ll answer, “Sincerity.”
That’s close, but I say, “All right, how do we make praise sound sincere?”
One of the ways has to do with where you insert praise into the conversation: last, not first. Not first and last with a criticism sandwiched in between either. That’s a popular management recommendation, but I think people see through that as easily as they see through the compliment-then-criticism technique. The employee misses the first bit of praise because he’s been called on the carpet and is waiting for the other shoe to drop. Then he gets the bad news and he can’t appreciate the other half of the sandwich cookie. Whatever came before the “but . . .” he no longer believes because it was an obvious setup. Whether it really was or not is irrelevant. If that’s the way he feels, that’s reality to him.
The second way to effect the sincerity of praise is to make it as specific as possible. There is something disconcerting about “Nice going! Good job! Appreciated that.” It’s much better when someone says—to use the singing example again—“I enjoyed your solo, especially the song you selected and the way you interpreted that chorus. I felt as if I were young and in love again.”
I was the happy beneficiary of specific praise, and I’m pleased to say it helps bolster my point. To use one of my earlier phrases, I was an “unconscious competent” at public speaking. I have saved until now the news that I was a stutterer as a child because I believe it has more impact when you have established in your mind that I make my living by giving speeches hundreds of times a year.
When I was a student I couldn’t get out sentences that began with words like why, what, or how. Basically, I couldn’t ask any questions. This dogged me into my freshman year of college. I had to rephrase questions so they wouldn’t start with a w or an h word. I had to say things like “Tell me about that. It seems that wouldn’t work if this was the case.” I didn’t know it, but I was becoming more verbally fluent because of my weakness. If I put what in the middle of a sentence, I could get it out. So I began most of my questions with a dependent clause—which is not a bad way to pose a question. Still, I was insecure, and for years I didn’t even consider teaching, let alone public speaking, as a career.
Yet as I gained confidence, I saw the stutter begin to disappear until finally I was a teacher, then a professor, and finally a public speaker. No one knew that I still harbored insecurities about my speaking ability because of those painful memories, so I took any praise for my oratory with a grain of salt. At times I was tempted to say, “I’m glad you enjoyed it, but if you only knew . . .”
In the mid-1980s I spoke to an audience of realtors in Chicago and learned a valuable lesson. Afterward, people filed out gushing general praise like “Great speech! Loved it! Best I’ve ever heard!”
As was my habit I pasted on a smile and responded with, “Thank you. Oh yes. Thanks. Oh yes. ’Preciate that.”
The last guy to leave the room said, “I really enjoyed that,” and I started in with one of the variations of my “Oh yes” when he got my attention. When he added, “. . . specifically,” I cocked my ear.
He said, “Specifically I like the way you use little everyday stories to teach complex points like empathy and setting of context. Most speakers don’t do that. Those stories made me see your points. Thanks for putting those in there.” And he walked out.
THE BENEFITS OF SPECIFIC PRAISE
1. Specific praise feels good. It made me feel good. The specificity of his praise reached me as no general praise could have. Specific praise is powerful praise; general praise is just good manners.
2. Specific praise is believable. Because he had been specific, I believed him. He was credible and that made him look good too.
3. Specific praise always either reinforces or teaches. It made me learn something about myself as a speaker. In all honesty, I had not previously had a clue to my success. I knew I was in demand and that people seemed to appreciate and enjoy my speaking. But if I’d had to guess, I would have said it was because they liked my style. I’m expressive, hard-driving, and I don’t do a lot of gyrating. I get to the point—it’s just in-your-face principles and give ’em the bottom line.
I have always been a storyteller, but until that guy pointed out that the specific detail of my illustrations made my points come alive for him, I didn’t know. I might have drifted from that technique, but once I knew it was effective, I went back and emphasized stories and illustrations for all my presentations. His specific praise taught me to be a better speaker.
4. Specific praise gets passed along. Two years later I ran into a guy in Jacksonville, Florida, who said, “Are you that crazy guy from Albuquerque who teaches Verbal Judo? I’ve got a friend in Chicago who raved about your course. He couldn’t remember your name but he never forgot what you did.”
I said, “What was that?”
He said, “You taught with specific little stories the way Einstein taught physics. My friend had to give a presentation before his bosses and he completely redid it based on that one principle alone. And he gave the best speech.”
It pays to listen and watch and take that extra time to look at what somebody does that makes you feel good. Then, instead of just blurting, “Great job!” be specific.
AN EXAMPLE
Let’s say I have an employee—I’ll call him John—who writes poorly. His reports are a mishmash of abstract generalities. I send him to a writing course, but he’s not much better. I look through thirty of his reports and they’re all bad. My natural inclination might be to take a handful of those reports and shake them in his face and say, “Didn’t you learn anything? These are outrageous! If you don’t get better, we’ll fire you!”
Obviously, that would be ineffective. On the basis of my principles of praise, here’s what I should do. I should take the time to dig through all those reports to find at least one paragraph that works. It might be just dumb luck on John’s part, but something somewhere in that mass of writing has to be something worthwhile. Then, instead of trying to resort to criticism and an ultimatum as a motivator, I should try specific praise.
I should not call John in, but rather seek him out. I should say, “John, I was looking over some of your reports, and I was impressed with this paragraph and how specific it is. That’s good, because when you’re this specific, it helps me understand what you do so I can supervise you better. That’s good for you. That’s good for me. That’s good for everybody. Thanks for taking the time to do that.”
You think his next report wouldn’t be fifteen times more specific? You can bet he’d go home and tell his wife that night that the boss had praised him, and there’s little question that he’d remember why. People do what they’re praised for. If I were to only criticize him, he would just shore up his reports just enough to keep me off his back. Criticized people generally do only enough to reach a level of what management experts call “minimal competency.” That’s what’s wrong with labor in our society.
Now let’s say John is doing better on his reports, but he’s still neglecting to open and close them with power and influential statements. Now I can go to him and say, “John, your reports are more specific than ever, and I appreciate it. And this one opened with a powerful, grabbing sentence. Open and close the rest of them that way, and you’re writing the best reports we can get. I know you can do it.”
A QUIZ
Beside exercising the principle of specific praise, what other Verbal Judo principle am I using?
If you said I was raising John’s expectations as a way to motivate him, you’re among the best readers I’ve got. If you keep catching on to these principles and remembering them . . . well, you get the point.
Motivate by raising expectations. Raise expectations not through criticism, but through praise. Praise specifically, and you will find yourself resorting to criticism rarely.
CRITICISM WITHOUT OSTRACISM
You can, and many times should, deliver criticism effectively, directly, and even bluntly. As the flip side of the praise principle, the trick here is to follow the criticism—not precede it—with praise. That way, despite his mistakes, the person being corrected and criticized will still feel a part of the team, a valued player. If praise is doled out before criticism, as is usually the case, the person will feel manipulated. Often it’s appropriate to remind the person, “If I didn’t value you and care about you, or if I wasn’t concerned with how you fit into the organization, I wouldn’t bother to deal with you about this problem. If you were on your way out of the company or I thought you were unsalvageable, I wouldn’t waste my time, would I? Do football coaches holler at marginal players? No. They push and prod the ones they count on and need the most.”
WHEN YOU ARE CRITICIZED
I have just a few simple guidelines for taking criticism, which we all must at times. None of these will be new to you, but it is worthwhile to list them here as reminders.
1. Maintain eye contact. Don’t roll your eyes as if you are amazed at the stupidity of the person doing the criticizing. And don’t cast your eyes down either. That is a sign of resignation or defeat. The person criticizing you probably doesn’t want you to wallow in self-pity. Take it like an adult. Look the person in the eye and indicate that you’re listening.
2. If you disagree, hold your tongue for the time being. If you constantly interrupt to correct an inaccuracy or plead your case, you’re going to look worse. Maybe you’re right and the criticizer is wrong. Still, arguing and appearing defensive will only make the person believe more strongly that he is right. The time may come when it is appropriate to defend yourself, but gather your thoughts first and be prepared to discuss them calmly, just to try to balance the record.
3. Nod and show an open body language that says you’re not only listening, but also that you’re hearing and understanding. You’re not necessarily agreeing, but you’re getting the message.
4. Use phrases that confirm your openness to be corrected such as “Uh-huh,” “Yes,” “Okay,” “I hear you,” “I understand what you’re saying,” “I’m willing,” “I’ll make every effort,” “I’ll work on that,” “Thanks for pointing that out.”
5. When you have the floor, use the opportunity not only to defend yourself but also to reiterate that you welcome such input and want to learn. Insist on a follow-up meeting with a request such as “Could I check back with you to make sure I’m making progress and doing what you want?”
Being criticized and responding appropriately can be better than never having been noticed at all. Your demeanor and ability to choose your words carefully make all the difference.