On the Receiving End of Feedback

I have started reading my copy of Thanks for the Feedback: The Science and Art of Receiving Feedback Well, by Douglas Stone and Sheila Heen.  Stone and Heen are two of the authors of Difficult Conversations and both lecture on negotiation at the Harvard Law School.  I got my Kindle copy today, and it's a very fine read indeed.  You can see more information at

http://www.amazon.com/Thanks-Feedback-Science-Receiving-Well/dp/0670014664

Giving feedback is a source of concern in businesses and other organizations.  It is of particular interest, I believe, for pastors and other church leaders.  We in the preacher tribe are not generally all that adept at giving helpful feedback.  And we are even worse (perhaps I can only speak for myself...) at receiving critical and negative feedback.

Stone and Heen suggest that the real key in this interaction is not the giver of the feedback.  Rather they emphasize the role of the receiver.  "And we came to see," they write, "how this could transform not just how we handle performance reviews on the job, but how we lead, and behave in our professional lives and in our personal lives" (page 3).

Two things strike me early in my reading of the book.  The first is what the authors describe as "the tension between learning and being accepted."  This grabbed me because one of my strongest strengths is that of "learner."  And yet, when it comes to learning about myself, I am less than excited--especially when the feedback describes my shortcomings.  Stone and Heen note that such feedback can feel less like a "gift of learning" and far more like a colonoscopy.

I resemble that remark.  The good news is that receiving feedback is, at least in part, a set of skills to be learned and practiced.  It is also dependent on one's mental and spiritual condition at the feedback moment (and I can do something about that as well!).  So, immediately, I am reminding myself today that feedback is first of all information.  I like to learn, so I need to reframe as best I can the feedback that I receive from others.

The second thing that caught my attention is the role of leaders in forming a feedback culture in an organization.  This is not primarily about learning as a leader to give more effective feedback (although that is a very useful thing to do).  Instead, the most powerful way to foster a feedback culture depends on how the leader or leaders receive feedback from others and especially from those with less power in the organization.

"Nothing affects the learning culture of an organization more than the skill with which its executive team receives feedback," write Stone and Heen (page 10).  The higher up we get in an organization, the less accurate feedback we get.  So this will take work.  But the authors note that working to get that feedback "creates a culture of learning, problem solving, and adaptive high performance."

I, for one, desire to pay more attention to how I receive feedback in my ministry.  We know that other members will observe and imitate the behavior of the visible public leaders. I can therefore impact the ways in which others accept feedback by how I model that acceptance myself.

Now we come to the hard part.  This means that as a leader I need to seek out greater amounts of accurately critical feedback.  I need to do that for two reasons.  First, I can model helpful responses to such feedback.  Second, this is where the real learning and growth are.

If only my feelings didn't get hurt so easily.  Know what I mean?

God Talk at the Oscars

I have been following the conversation about Matthew Mcconaughey's Oscar acceptance speech.  He had the temerity or courage (depending on your religio-political persuasion) first of all to thank God for creating the opportunity to succeed in this way.

The speech left some commentators scratching their heads.  Time.com, or example, found it necessary to "explain" the "confounding" speech.  The site proceeded to repeat the actor's main points almost verbatim with little or no commentary.  Sounds like good work if you can get it, but journalism it is not.

Pundits with a conservative religio-political persuasion cheered the speech.  They also chuckled over what they perceived to be the discomfort of the audience during the speech.  This was deemed to demonstrate the shallow atheism of the crowd, and some of these commentators found the discomfiture quite amusing.  So much for loving one's enemies and praying for those who persecute you--but then, the Sermon on the Mount wasn't really intended as a serious behavioral program for disciples, was it?

I am struck by how desperate cultural Christianity is for any positive public recognition, no matter how muddled and heterodox.  Conservative evangelicalism has indeed positioned itself as the new cultural Christianity.  Certainly the goal of this perspective is triumphalistic--what Neibuhr called "Christ above Culture."  Cultural Christianity seeks this stance even while professing the "Christ against Culture" position.  It is quite a clever strategy.

In truth, Mr. Mcconaughey's remarks were vaguely deistic, but hardly Christian in any orthodox sense. The sort of triumphal, narcissistic self-congratulation that he displayed has little or nothing to do with "coming to serve rather than to be served."  His description of his deceased father's current status and experience is amusing and touching, but it is not Christian in any recognizable New Testament sense. The new life is not merely the best moments of this life to the infinite power--no matter how much I hope that a good gumbo is part of the New Creation.

Read N. T. Wright's Surprised by Hope for an account of the resurrection that has real substance and power.  We have far more to anticipate in the new life than supper, dancing and Miller Lite.  But that is precisely what certain commentators have celebrated.  So Cultural Christianity is left with a narcissistic, gnostic, crypto-deist as the latest poster boy for their cause.  I follow Jesus.  I don't wish to be identified with Mr. Mcconaughey's theological tribe.

The mirror response of the new atheists is equally instructive.  There was an outbreak of apoplectic angst from some writers in that neighborhood.  To such folks, it would seem that any deistic reference by a public figure is cause for existential concern.  The so-called humanists seem to have almost no trust in the ability of humans to discern and dismiss the "god delusion."  So they must aggressively attack all such expressions.

I believe they can rest at ease.  The Oscar speech was so theologically muddled that it is far more likely to help the new atheist agenda than to harm it.  If one can screen out the allergic response to the mention of "god" (I found no real mention of the God and Father of Jesus Christ in the speech), then the speech simply described the value of gratitude, the importance of optimism, and the power of positive self-talk for an attractive and modestly talented American male.

That hardly seems like a formula for undermining the philosophical foundations of secular America.

Fear is Information

Fear is information.  That may not have occurred to you, but it is true.  It is information from our bodies, sent to our brains, warning us of possible danger.  That information may provoke an immediate reaction.  Or it may lead to a considered response.  Psychologists sometimes refer to the reaction as the neurological "low road."  They sometimes refer to the response as the neurological "high road."

These labels are not really value attributions.  Instead, these labels describe the different paths that fear as information may take through our brains.  The "low road" is the direct route from the external stimulus directly to the reactive centers in the brain (sometimes referred to broadly as the limbic system).  The low road takes the short path to action, not bothering with the slower and more reflective neocortex. Thus the low road is reactive rather than reflective.

The low road is the path to take if I am on the African savannah and am surprised by a lion.  Taking the time to consciously process that experience is a fine formula for ending up as lion lunch.  There are moments when the low road is the best road.

Those moments are rare in most of our lives.  But the low road still exists and can take us over if we're not paying attention.  This is the "amygdala hijack" which is described in some conflict resolution literature.  A fear-induced reaction in the midst of interpersonal conflict will usually make things worse rather than better.  When two limbic systems lock horns in a reactive cycle, the outcome is usually quite bad.

The high road moves the fear-based information into our higher reasoning and processing centers.  The low road may produce a rough and ready reaction in milliseconds.  The high road may require several seconds for processing.  But, as I suggest strongly in my parenting classes, the high road is almost always the best road.  This is true because good behavior is usually recognized and rewarded in the long run.  This is also true because a reflective response is far more likely to be heard and appreciated than is a heated reaction.

How do we choose the best path?  We can practice stepping backward in order to move forward. When your granny told you to count to ten before responding to a negative comment, she was right. Stop and wait.  Take a deep breath and exhale.  Take another deep breath and exhale again.  Use your breathing to engage your vagus nerve--to slow your heart rate and respiration, to decrease your blood pressure and slow down the production of adrenaline and cortisol.

And then think.  This is not an encouragement to deny your emotions.  It is an encouragement to treat emotions for what they are--thoughts with particular energy valences.  Fear is information.  It can produce anger, which is a secondary and reactive emotion.  Or it can produce curiosity, which is a secondary and responsive emotion.

So be brave.  Courage is not the absence of fear.  That is simply foolishness.  Courage is the management of fear for the sake of some greater goal.  That management may equip you to take a risk for the sake of another.  That management may equip you to speak out in the face of injustice.  That management may equip you to be calm enough to ask additional questions before coming to a conclusion or taking action.

And practice being brave.  This is a skill that can be cultivated, at least in small ways.  Step back to move forward.  Breathe deeply and exhale fully.  Try to imagine the situation from the point of view of the other person.  If nothing else comes to mind, simply say, "You may have a point."  And then ask further reflective questions.

If fear is information, then the way out of fear will be more and better information...unless, of course, you are running from a lion!

Moving the Process

I have the periodic opportunity to coach students studying mediation and negotiation.  I always learn more than I teach.  It happened again on Saturday.

The students were role-playing an eldercare mediation.  The mediators were nudging the parties toward some possible agreements, but the process had bogged down.  The participants were "stuck."  Conversation trailed off.  They looked at each other with furrowed brows.  The mediators stole a couple of furtive glances at me, the coach.

"I want one of you mediators to get up, go to the white board, and start making a list," I said.  One of the mediators complied, and the conversation started to pick up.  In a few moments participants were generating options.  The parties had turned toward one another in their chairs.  The actor who was trying to be the more difficult of the parties began to make acknowledgments and consider options that had been off the table ten minutes before.

What had happened?  Somebody moved.

It is easier to move something that is already moving than it is to start something that is stuck. If mental and emotional processes are stuck, we can still move our bodies.  And once we get off our behinds, our guts and our brains tend to follow.  

For many of us, for example, conversation flows more freely when we are walking.  Brainstorming and option-generating processes work more quickly when the participants get up and move around.  This is one of the many values, for example, of asking group members to put their ideas on sticky notes and then to put the sticky notes on a wall.  

I have facilitated meetings on difficult topics.  When we have come to an impasse, I have sometimes asked participants to get up and sit in a different seat.  There is often some grumbling that goes with this activity.  I have learned to stay focused and not to take that personally.  Once people move and been re-seated, I review the conversation so far and invite folks to move on.  The physical change of location can often facilitate a change in perspective and level of cooperation.

So much the better if participants exchange some sort of safe touch during the move.  I have tried this a few times in some really tight conversations.  I have asked participants to get up, shake hands with three other participants and then to take new seats.  This facilitates movement and increases connection. The results can be startling.  

This is why greeting rituals are important at the beginning of a worship service.  Asking people to get up, move about and touch each other (safely) will improve the emotional tone of the service.  Such rituals make people more receptive to input and more generous in their giving.

I have reflected on this in preaching as well.  What is the mixed message we preachers send when we advocate for personal or corporate change while standing in a fixed spot?  What is the mixed message we preachers send while suggesting greater connection between people while standing in a spotlight and separated from our congregation by a pulpit, a rail, steps and a veritable moat of interpersonal distance?  

It is important for the method to match the message whether we speaking to a congregation or facilitating a meeting or guiding a mediation.

These tactics are rooted in some understanding of social neurology.  Much of this happens at a pre-conscious level and can seem by turns either mysterious or mythical.  In fact, we can use these insights to help each other make deeper connections and arrive at better solutions to our common problems.

It is all so moving.

Shame is not Loud Embarrassment

Neuroscientifically inclined psychologists who study emotions can help us to identify the real responses of those around us.  We can do that by becoming familiar with the tiny changes in facial expression in the milliseconds of unguarded reaction that precede our conscious and (often) constructed reactions to events.  We can learn a great deal, for example, from a person's startle response.  This can indicate the ongoing level of anxiety which that person experiences.

In fact, the startle response, the embarrassment affect, and the smile rate are microscopic indicators that we use unconsciously to quickly determine whether we will trust someone or not in an interaction and/or in a relationship.

The above description is painted in broad strokes and raises as many questions as it answers.  In his book, Born to be Good, Dacher Keltner helps us distinguish between the smile and the laugh.  Keltner notes that the smile is like "social chocolate."  It impacts the reward centers in our brains.  A smile opens others to relationships with us.  The smile can deepen bonds and repair breaches in relationships. Authentic smiles build human connection and community millisecond by millisecond (and faked smiles are a direct route to mistrust).

Keltner notes that laughter is different.  Charles Darwin theorized that laughter is smiling through loudspeakers.  He thought, as do we, that laughter is the loud version of our bared teeth and raised eyebrows.  Research doesn't bear that out.  In fact, laughter is pitched to the key of fun and play.  It differs significantly from smiling in both purpose and effect.

I wonder if this applies to a distinction that Keltner doesn't seem to address--the difference between embarrassment and shame.  He notes that embarrassment is another form of social glue.  When we are conscious (even subconsciously) of a possible relationship breach or conflict, we may become embarrassed.  The embarrassment response is a sort of vulnerability and submission display that invites forgiveness and care-taking.  Therefore, Keltner notes, it brings people closer together in situations which could have driven them further apart.

What about shame?  I am not sure, but I think that Keltner and his tribe may see shame as embarrassment through loudspeakers.  That, however, is certainly not my experience.  Nor does the research on shame bear this out.  June Tangney, Brene Brown, and others have described shame as an experience that reaches to the core of our identity and self-worth.  

I may be embarrassed by something I have done, such as passing gas in the elevator just before you get on.  If I am found out, I may giggle and apologize and then move on.  Embarrassment is a repair strategy for something I have done.  Embarrassment is a crimson-faced apology.

Shame is about who I believe I am.  And shame is the deeply held fear that I will be abandoned due to my defects.  If I believe somehow that I am flawed, defective, dirty and unworthy, then I will experience my actions as reflecting that belief.  And here is the problem.  I believe that for many of us, embarrassment and shame look quite similar on the outside.  But they are radically different on the inside.

So I know that I need a couple of personal disciplines when I am in a group.  On the one hand, I have to talk myself down from shame regularly.  With a few deep breaths and a conscious reminder to myself, I can remember that my mistakes look like mistakes to other people, even when to me they look like dark and dirty failings and flaws.  A bit of on-the-run perspective taking can help me to turn down the temperature on my shame experiences.

On the other hand, I am acutely aware that others may not have that skill or awareness.  So what looks like embarrassment to me from the outside is likely to be experienced as shame on the inside.  This is why I am at great pains to shield people from potentially embarrassing situations.  I am unwilling to expose people, if I can help it, to experiences of public embarrassment because of the shaming potential.

Why?  I'd like to think I'm compassionate and empathetic.  I also know that shamed people will either withdraw from the interaction or strike out in anger.  Neither response will move our relationships forward.

Just as smiles and laughter arise from different domains, so (I believe) do embarrassment and shame. We do well to treat shame as a separate reality.

Love on a Two-Way Street

"There is no safe investment.  To love at all is to be vulnerable.  Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly be broken.  If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal.  Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness.  But in that casket--safe, dark, motionless, airless--it will change.  It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. The alternative to tragedy, or at least the risk of tragedy, is damnation.  The only place outside Heaven where you can be perfectly safe from all the dangers and perturbations of love is Hell."  C. S. Lewis, The Four Loves, page 121.

What a wonderful day, this festival of romantic love!  In the age of social media, we can see hundreds of expressions of such love.  I am so privileged and overjoyed to be the subject and recipient myself of such beautiful expressions of love from my spouse.  Even though such spontaneity is not my strong suit, I love being on the receiving end of such feelings.  And I hope that I reciprocate even a small part of the love I receive.

I am reminded that this devotion is one trip on a two-way street.  As Lewis notes, genuine love is always risky.  And he does not mean the risk of disappointment or abandonment.  Genuine love requires that we suffer with one another in our pain as often as we embrace one another in our pleasure. This is the full, mature understanding of love.  This is the real beauty of love.

Lewis gave this series of talks not long after his civil marriage to Joy Davidman.  He had been a lifelong bachelor, wrapping his heart carefully round with studies of medieval literature and defenses of Christian orthodoxy.  The marriage was ostensibly a way for Davidman to remain legally in Great Britain with her sons.  But clearly Jack and Joy came to something more than a civil agreement.

By 1960 Joy was dead from bone cancer.  Jack Lewis wrote his wrenching bereavement story in A Grief Observed.  For the full effect, one should read The Four Loves and this work back to back.  I have found no greater testimony to the joy and tragedy of human love.

We can protect ourselves from the pain.  We can become so hardhearted that we allow no one in.  And then we will cease to live.  The love and the hurt travel the same road in and out of our hearts.  And that is as it should be.  It is our mortality which brings a particular sweetness and urgency to our loving.  It is our limits that make love such a wonderful transcendence of ourselves and our selfishness.

Lewis wrote his book as a meditation on the statement that God is love.  We who follow Jesus know that today is an opportunity to reflect further on that statement.  And today is a chance to celebrate how God's love in Christ flows through us to our beloved.  It is a privilege to be a pathway for God's love to my beloved.

I love you so much, my darling Brenda.  And I thank our Lord every day for you.

Practice, Practice, Practice!

So we live in a culture where failures and flaws are airbrushed out of the pictures.  We learn over and over that failure is not an option and that flaws are unacceptable.  So we have moved from the culture of guilt (the one in which, for example, Martin Luther lived and wrote) to the culture of shame.  We are not concerned about doing bad things.  We are certain that we are just bad people.

What are some practical responses, especially as we shape and form our children and grandchildren? We can rehearse with them.  Mental rehearsals can fire the same brain areas as the real actions.  So let's help our young people rehearse their responses to failure and flaws.

I'm not suggesting that we rehearse failing.  Life will create those opportunities.  We don't need to seek them out.  In fact, mental practice of success is a wonderful tool for preparing to succeed.  That's true in sports, in the arts, in relationships, and in the sciences.  But how will we help our young people through those times when it doesn't quite work out?  We can rehearse their responses.

We all have these conversations with young people.  "I'm afraid that I'm going to screw up big time and look like an idiot," they tell us.  Young folks probably use different language, but we prehistoric types get the point. First, we can help young people imagine what a successful speech or math test or free throw will look like.  They can practice that over and over in their minds as well as with their bodies.

Then we can think about what will happen if they miss the mark.  And we can help them shape that imagination in a realistic way.  Will the world really end if you fail?  Probably not.  Imagine going to school the next day.  Some people may make fun of you.  Others will give you credit for trying.  Your real friends will support you.  And life as you know it will continue.  So practice smiling along with the teasing.  Practice saying thank you to the people who give you credit for trying.  Practice relying on the friends who will support you.  And then practice moving on to the next challenge or opportunity in your life.  

Imagine it several times.  Things will get better.

This is re-tooling of our self-talk after a mistake.  We perfectionists go into a real internal tailspin after any mistake.  The shame and embarrassment are massive and debilitating.  We want to hide or to fix it or to pretend that nothing happened.  We prevaricate or procrastinate.  And all the while we tell ourselves how terrible we are.  Practicing a different kind of self-talk is the way out of that personal hole.

If failure is unthinkable, then we have no permission to rehearse our responses.  If we don't practice this stuff in our heads, then when it happens for real we will be defenseless.

Worse yet, we will abandon our young people to the pain of rumination.  Rumination is mental rehearsal after the fact.  It is the cascade of regrets over what I could have, would have, should have done in the situation.  Rumination can become a negative feedback loop, plunging a person into deeper and deeper cycles of self-recrimination.  And that process then sets us up for further shame when we fail the next time.  We say to ourselves, "See, I told you that you are really useless, worthless and incompetent!"

We can give young people permission to be imperfect.  That's a large cultural task that begins at home. But then we need to equip them with the tools of resilience in the face of failures and flaws.  Mental rehearsal is one of the best of those tools.

How can we get to the place where failure is tolerable rather than fatal, an opportunity rather than an obstacle?  Practice, practice, practice!