Researchers analyzed more than 600 feedback interventions involving over 23,000 observations and found that more than a third of the time, feedback actually made people worse. Ouch.
Especially because when most of us have to deliver hard feedback, we do what responsible leaders have been taught to do: we work on the words. We write and rewrite. We soften, sharpen, rehearse, and ask ourselves: Am I being fair? Am I being too hard? How is this going toland? What if they get upset?
We assume that if we can just find the right words, we can get the conversation right.
But the words are only the surface.
Underneath them, two human beings are having an experience. The leader may be anxious about delivering the message. The person receiving it may be ashamed to hear it. And those emotions are already shaping what each person can see, hear, say, and do.
That is the part of the conversation we rarely prepare for.
For one of the companies I work with, it’s review season, which means I’ve had several calls lately with leaders preparing to deliver a hard message, a disappointing review, or a course correction. Having been in this position many times myself, I know how quickly the conversation can become less about the other person and more about managing our own discomfort.
We soften the message because we don’t want to hurt them. Or we hold so tightly to the script that there’s no room for curiosity about what is actually happening across the table.
Then the other person gets quiet. They stop making eye contact, maybe they barely respond.
And our brain fills in the blank.
They disagree.
They’re defensive.
They can’t take feedback.
But what if they agree with every word?
What if they already knew?
What if what we’re actually seeing is shame because they knew there was a problem and hadn’t fixed it before we had to say something?
Now there are two people sitting in a room, each reacting to something the other person cannot see.
That is where we misread the moment.
And once we do, the consequences can extend far beyond one uncomfortable conversation. We decide someone “can’t take feedback.” That perception follows them into the next rating, the next assignment, and the next conversation. They learn that honesty with us is not safe, so they bring us less of it. The original problem remains, and someone who may have been entirely coachable gets labeled based on one hard moment we misunderstood.
This is part of what Kluger and DeNisi found in the research I opened with. Across 607 studies, feedback improved performance on average.
But when feedback shifted a person’s attention away from the work and toward what the feedback seemed to say about them, performance could suffer.
That distinction matters.
Because feedback never lands on the work alone. It lands in a human being who is making meaning of what we say. And the leader delivering it is having an experience too.
So the challenge isn’t simply to become clearer or more direct. It is to become more aware of what is happening in the room while we are being clear and direct.
One Thing to Try This Week
Before your next hard conversation, prepare for more than the words.
First, ask yourself: What am I tempted to do right now to make this easier on me?
Am I softening the message? Over-explaining? Hiding behind the script? That question can help you catch the moment when your own discomfort starts driving the conversation.
Then pay attention to what changes once you begin. If the person gets quiet, looks away, shuts down, or suddenly becomes defensive, get curious before you decide what it means.
You might say:
“The story I’m telling myself is that some of this may not be new to you, and it may be hard to hear. Tell me if I’ve got that wrong.”
You haven’t diagnosed them. You haven’t excused the performance issue. You’ve simply created enough room to find out what is actually happening.
So yes, prepare what needs to be said, but more than anything, open yourself to truly see what happens to people once you say it.
