I need someone that laughs at all my jokes. You know, honest feedback.
Mr. Burns, The Simpsons1
When I wrote my first book a few years ago, I assumed I was a great writer. I worked on the first chapter, honing it and polishing it until it was perfect. I started picturing sold-out book signings, rave reviews in newspapers, and people stopping me on the street for autographs. And of course I pictured Oprah’s unending praise as she gave everyone in her audience a copy of my book instead of a car (and they were thrilled).
Then I showed that single chapter to my wife. “Could you read this and let me know what you think?” I watched her as she read at the kitchen counter, waiting for her to respond with quivering excitement or even a small tear trickling down her cheek. She didn’t show any emotion, so I assumed she was waiting until she was finished to say, “This is the best thing that’s ever been written. Where will we put your ‘Book of the Year’ award?”
Finally, she finished. She simply said, “I don’t get it.”
What? She didn’t get it? I figured she must have misread something. So I said, “You don’t get it? What do you mean?”
She responded, “I just don’t get it. The middle part didn’t make sense, and I’m having trouble putting it all together.”
My first thought was that she needed to improve her reading skills. But I took the manuscript over to the corner of the living room and read it again in my fetal position. Armed with her feedback, I saw exactly what she meant.
Four books later, I’ve learned never to hit send on any chapter or article she hasn’t looked at. I’m too close to be objective. She sees what I don’t and helps me capture a different perspective that makes all the difference. It may not be comfortable, but I need honest feedback.
Expanding Our Perspective
Feedback is critical for handling tough conversations. When words get tense with a spouse or teenager, it’s easy to tell them our perspective before asking for their perspective. If we believe our perspective is accurate, we block effective communication.
We all think we’re right on most things. After all, if we thought we were wrong, we would have changed our minds. So when someone sees something differently than we do, we assume they’re either inaccurate or stubborn.
One day when I was in high school, I was standing with friends at an intersection when an accident occurred right in front of us. The police came and interviewed us individually, and we told them exactly what we saw happen.
Soon, an older woman across the street started yelling to the officers. “Hey! Come talk to me! I saw the whole thing!” We didn’t remember her being there before, so we followed the police across the street and listened to her side of the story. It was totally different from what we had seen.
“Why is she lying?” we asked each other. “That’s not what happened at all! What’s she trying to pull?”
But then someone told us to turn around and look at the wreckage. From that perspective, her story made perfect sense.
I realized at that point that no matter how right I think I am, there’s always another perspective. A conversation is not a matter of deciding who is right and who is wrong. In most cases, it involves listening carefully to both perspectives to see what the truth of the situation really is. King Solomon wrote, “The first to plead his case seems right, until another comes and examines him” (Prov. 18:17 NASB).
During a tough conversation, people often fight it out to decide who is correct. But if both people are doing the same thing, they are going to have a tough time reaching the truth. Pride gets in the way of the relationship.
It takes humility during a tough conversation to listen to another person’s perspective. But it’s the only way to make progress. We shouldn’t try to defend our position as much as try to complete it.
We Need a Mirror
When someone points out that we have broccoli between our teeth, we’re embarrassed. We instantly think of all the people who must have seen it but didn’t say anything. That makes the situation even worse. It’s painful to hear the truth, but we want to hear it so we can fix whatever is wrong.
Ken Blanchard, author of The One-Minute Manager, says, “Feedback is the breakfast of champions.”2 If we want to grow, we need honest feedback. If we want our relationships to grow, we need to get accurate feedback—and learn how to give it as well.
Giving up our need to be right all the time is risky. If we open our mind to explore another person’s side of things, we’re admitting that we might not have the whole picture. That’s a tough thing to admit if our goal is to win the argument. It’s even tougher if we’re willing to explore and the other person isn’t, because we’re afraid they’ll see it as a sign of weakness and pounce on it.
I have a friend who asks me for professional input on a regular basis. She often has controversy with her employer and feels that the organization is taking advantage of her. Usually, she builds a strong case of why she’s justified in her feelings and why her employer is wrong. Generally, she’s accurate. Her concerns are real and justified.
But she has the wisdom and openness to bounce her concerns off me before she goes to her employer, just to see if there’s something she’s missing. I’m not smarter than she is; I’m just a little further along on the corporate road than she is. So I’ve encountered some of the potholes she’s just now experiencing. I’m on the outside, so I can see elements of truth in both perspectives. I don’t have to take sides. I can show her things that might be valid from her employer’s point of view and hold up a mirror so she can see how her approach might come across. Getting feedback doesn’t make her right or wrong; it makes her accurate.
Known versus Unknown
If we’re going to be honest with ourselves, we need to see ourselves as clearly as possible. Years ago, Joseph Luft and Harrington Ingham developed a diagram called the Johari Window3 to help people understand the relationships with themselves as well as with others. It’s a simple tool that helps us see ourselves honestly so we can grow.
There are four areas of awareness:
The open areas typically emerge in the initial stages of a relationship. There are obvious things about the other person that we identify with, and they connect with us in the same way:
Where it gets interesting is when the blind and hidden areas begin to surface. The more we get to know another person, the more we find out about them. When a couple has their first fight, it’s usually because something unexpected showed up. We point out something about the other person that they didn’t notice, or they tell us something about us that we didn’t know. This throws off the equilibrium in the relationship and causes us to reevaluate what we believed was true.
Sometimes in conflict, emotions surface where there’s no explanation for them. This makes conversations tough, because logic doesn’t resolve the issue. In those cases, we’re often looking at the unknown areas. They’re under the surface, so they’re not obvious. Trying to solve the problem becomes futile, because we’re ignoring a deeper issue.
If both people involved in a tough conversation have the same perspective, there wouldn’t be a disagreement. When there is disagreement, the obvious need is to cross the street and see what the other person is seeing.
Then what’s the problem?
In an earlier chapter, we compared conversation to a game of checkers. If we get overly focused on how poorly the other person is playing, we’re not making the game any better. We need to stay on our side of the board and work on our game.
Getting to the Truth
How do we work on our own game? How do we build our own skills for tough conversations no matter how others respond? We need feedback from people we trust. We need to find out the blind areas that are getting in the way of effective connection with others. We need to find the broccoli between our teeth.
It’s tough to get accurate feedback from people. While a few people might feel like it’s their job to point out our faults, most people are sensitive enough to avoid hurting our feelings. They don’t volunteer feedback because they don’t want to become a critic. The only way we’ll get accurate feedback from others is by taking the initiative to get it and to make it safe for the right people to give it.
The process involves three steps:
Asking for Feedback
If we could videotape ourselves 24/7, we’d get an accurate picture of how we come across to others. Since that’s not possible, we need to hear from people we trust. Usually the people we don’t trust as much give us their unsolicited opinion, while the people we trust are hesitant to provide it. Caring friends are the only ones who can give caring feedback.
That means we have to ask for it. If we don’t ask, we won’t get it. We also should ask for specific feedback. It’s tough for someone to respond to a question like, “Do you think I’m a jerk?” It’s safer for them if we phrase things carefully:
The more specific the question, the easier it is for people to give valuable feedback. If we just say, “So what do you really think of me?” we’ll probably get a generic response like, “You’re fine.” (That’s better than saying, “You need to be taller.”)
Receiving Feedback
We need to make it comfortable for people to give us feedback, because they’re taking a risk in doing so. Some people will give us verbal feedback over coffee, while others need time to process and put their thoughts in an email. I’ve found that taking a walk with someone enables them to share their thoughts without having to look me in the eyes.
When we receive feedback, we need to listen, not defend. We’re asking for their perspective, where they hold up a mirror for us. If we start giving explanations for our actions when they tell us things they see, they’ll stop telling us.
A great way to show that we value their input is to take notes while they talk. This says, “Your opinion is really important to me, so I want to make sure I capture it.”
Even if we received feedback from a close friend, we should send them a note a couple of days later thanking them for the feedback. We should let them know how much it meant that they took the risk to be honest with us and how much we value their relationship.
A few weeks later, we could let them know something we’ve done to act on their feedback and how it has impacted an important relationship we have. If nothing changes, they probably won’t give us feedback in the future. But if we take action on it, they recognize that we value their perspective and will be much more open to providing feedback in the future.
Even healthy relationships encounter tough conversations. When they occur, they should lead us on a journey to discover truth. Humility becomes the fertile ground for a relationship to grow.
When It Goes Both Ways
Yes, we can only change ourselves. But as our conversational skills grow, others might become more open to receiving feedback from us. How do we give feedback? By keeping it personal—giving our perspective as another view, not as absolute truth.
Many books talk about using “I messages” instead of “you messages” during tough conversations. This might feel trite and overused, but it’s still important.
“You messages” put people on the defensive. When we say, “You always . . . You never . . . It’s your fault . . . You need to . . . Why can’t you . . .” people feel like they’re being attacked.
“I messages” can be honest, because we’re not telling the other person they’re wrong. We’re just giving our perspective. Instead of saying, “You frustrate me!” we could say, “When you say that, I feel frustrated.” We’re giving our perspective instead of telling them they’re wrong.
In tough conversations, making accusations and demeaning the other person always takes us away from the real issues. We want to hurt them because they’re hurting us. We want to attack and punish. If that’s not appropriate (maybe because we work for them), we withdraw, become passive-aggressive, or bad-mouth them behind their back. Such actions always make the problem worse, not better. They’re a form of relational road rage.
The solution? We need to own our side of the conversation, giving our perspective without making judgments about their character or actions. We can’t control what another person does or feels, but we can control how we respond to them. We need to see each other’s perspective in order to discover truth rather than fighting to see who’s right. As the cliché says, “There are two sides to every situation.” If we explore them, we make a major move toward healing and solutions.
Conversational success comes through truth, not triumph.
Tips for Tough Conversations
How can we get the feedback we need?