Stay informed with free updates
Simply sign up for the Life & Arts myFT Digest, delivered straight to your inbox.
There are very few days when I look out the window without noticing a car driving east down the quiet little street. You might think that’s nothing out of the ordinary, except that the road is one-way heading west. I’m guessing these drivers aren’t ignoring the rules since the road doesn’t function as a through road. They just don’t realize they’re making a mistake.
And why do they notice it? I noticed something strange about one-way street signs in the UK. If you’re driving on the right path, you’ll notice a white arrow on a blue background indicating this.
But what if you’re driving in the wrong direction? there is nothing. If you miss the no trespassing sign at the beginning of the street, there’s no sign that says “Stop, Turn, This Could Be a Disaster.” Instead, you need to notice subtle cues, such as the placement of cars parked on the side of the road or perhaps the facial expressions of oncoming drivers. This seems to me an interesting design decision. Of two drivers facing each other on a one-way street, the one who needs the most feedback is undoubtedly the one going the wrong way.
But perhaps one-way streets are good preparation for a life that many of us have to navigate like a series of one-way streets. When you’re doing it right, you can expect periodic “this is great” nods of empty approval. “Good job.” “Very useful.” What if we’re doing it wrong? The silence is infrequently but rudely interrupted by the impact of a car accident. It’s rare to get a barrage of timely, specific, and useful criticism before things get too serious.
Sometimes the signs are right in front of us but we look away. In 2019, two researchers from Chicago’s Booth School of Business, Lauren Escruis Winkler and Ayelet Fishback, published a paper presenting some research on the effects of feedback on learning. There, participants were presented with two plausible answers to a difficult question and invited to participate in a study in which: Please choose one. Most of the time, this was a guess and a toss-up.
After giving 10 answers, subjects were either shown all the correct answers or shown all the incorrect answers. Logically speaking, these are all binary questions, so they are the same thing. However, Eskreis Winkler and Fischbach realized that the emotional framework is important. People learned when they could show off their successes and performed better on follow-up tests with fine-tuned, relevant questions. People don’t improve when shown their failures.
Researchers suggest that people may be less interested in thinking deeply about their mistakes and may quickly move on and forget them. This is especially true in experiments like this one, where the consequences of further mistakes are trivial. When they are shown their successes, they stop and savor the moment. This may help explain why so many of us face one-way problems. Everyone is happy to offer friendly words and reassurance, but few are eager to offer criticism, even when specifically requested.
So what should I do? One tactic is to ask for advice instead of feedback. According to a Harvard Business School working paper written by Haley Blunden and colleagues, when people ask for advice, they tend to use more helpful comments that are critical, practical, and focus on potential future improvements. It is known that there is a tendency to seek
The second approach involves two neat steps, as demonstrated by author and psychologist Adam Grant. I interviewed him on stage a few months ago and had a great time. Afterwards, he asked us to give him a score out of 10 for our performance. Ah, nine-thirty, I suggested. (There’s always room for improvement, right?) Immediately, an enthusiastic follow-up question came back: “What makes a 10?” Smart. If he had just wanted my comment, I would have told him, honestly, I thought he was great. But it made me admit that there was some room for improvement, so I had to figure out what to do.
Recommended
Smart organizations will try to make constructive feedback a routine matter. This column is read by several colleagues to prevent typos, inauthenticity, defamation, and cliches. My “Coorrie Tales” podcast episodes go through a paper edit and then a “table read” where my team identifies areas of confusion and suggests ways to bring the storytelling to life. These sessions tend to be simple, easy to understand, and fun, as they focus on the text rather than the person, and suggest improvements at a safe point.
However, constructive feedback of a more general nature remains elusive. One idea I recently tried out, made popular by tabletop role-playing games like Dungeons & Dragons, is called “Stars and Wishes.” Running a great game requires a huge variety of skills and quick thinking, and no one is perfect. So after running a game, I sometimes ask players for their “stars,” which are moments they particularly enjoyed, and their “wish,” which is what they’d like to see in the next session. Wishes open a friendly space for constructive and actionable ideas. Not everyone will respond, and not all responses will be helpful. Still, you learn much more when you ask questions than when you don’t.
I don’t know how your boss will respond to the “Star and Wish” request, but the spirit is correct. If you want timely and helpful criticism from others, you need to be smart about how you ask for it. If we don’t, our colleagues will no longer communicate as subtly as a non-existent sign for someone driving the wrong way down my street.
Get the latest stories first — follow FT Weekend Magazine on X and FT Weekend on Instagram
