Posts Tagged ‘critic’

How To Give And Receive Advice (With Minimal Casualties)

Thursday, December 18th, 2008


Photo by Erik Charlton

Advice. We love to give it, we hate to receive it. I’m talking about everything from the very gentle “why don’t you try it this way” to the very blunt “you must die now.” It’s very easy to create unintended consequences with seemingly harmless advice, especially if you’ve been infected with the critic virus.

Differences of opinion

Once my boss said to me, “Nice tie. But it needs to hang a little lower.” I looked at my tie and thought it looked fine. Then I saw that his tie came down really low. I said, “Well, they say it’s supposed to just touch the top of your belt buckle, but I like it to go a little bit lower than that.” He said, “No, it’s supposed to completely cover your belt buckle. Look it up.” I said, “I did look it up. You look it up. Anyway, it’s a matter of opinion.” This eventually reached the “I know you are, but what am I” stage before it was broken up by a phone call.

At another job, my boss saw me in a tie and said, “Nice tie. But it’s coming down too low.” I just groaned and said “No, it’s not,” probably sounding more annoyed than the situation warranted, just because I wasn’t interested in going through that again. What was I supposed to say? “Thanks for the advice. My opinion of how to tie a tie has suddenly changed to match your opinion. I’ll continue tying it that way until the next person disagrees.” No, that would sound too sarcastic.

Dumb advice

Some advice is just plain wrong. Once I was at my juggling club, attempting a trick under a ceiling that was really too low for it. Someone said, “You’re throwing the balls way too fast.” I said, “I agree, but that’s because the ceiling’s too low.” He said, “Well, I’ve seen someone do that at the same height, but he did it much slower.”

At first I thought he was kidding, but no, he just didn’t have much of a grasp on the laws of physics. What was I supposed to say? “Brilliant advice! I’ll just work on changing the acceleration due to gravity. Dumbass!” No, that would be too mean.

Angry comments

I recently received this comment on my blog, in which I’ll *** out some of the words:

“You sick ******* liberal piece of ****. You’re a coward and a sick pathetic fool like all liberals. You spit on the graves of every dead victim of Terrorism and in the faces of every American soldier. You’re nothing but a parasite on society. I hope you get to watch your family members die in front of you in a terrorist attack.”

Gee, don’t hold back. Why don’t you tell me what you really think?

It’s still in my moderation queue, but I’m thinking “mark as spam and delete.” And the person who left it was anonymous of course, so I’m curious about his definition of “coward.” I’m also curious about the kind of person who leaves comments like this. I wonder if these people are 40 year old drug addicts living in their parents’ basement, or if they appear normal most of the time and only turn angry under the veil of anonymity.

But actually, this kind of criticism is the easiest to deal with. It’s clearly not based in reality (am I even a liberal?), nor do I feel the need to respond, so all I have to do is delete it. Problem solved.

“I’m just trying to help”

The toughest criticism to deal with is the kind that comes from people who are “just trying to help.” What is that supposed to mean, anyway? If you’re “just trying to help,” is that supposed to give you immunity? Having good intentions might get you off on manslaughter instead of murder, but wouldn’t it have been better not to kill anyone?

I don’t care if someone is “trying to help.” In fact, it makes it worse. Because instead of just ignoring criticism from someone who’s not trying to help, I have to think of a way to politely say, “Thanks for your advice, but I’m going to ignore it. I hope you’re not mad, but you’re wrong because…”

Come to think of it, needing to respond is the only reason I have a problem receiving criticism. If someone criticizes me on their blog, I can just read it and decide whether I want to respond. But if someone sends me an email or approaches me in person, and tells me what I’m doing wrong, I have to say something. But what? Here are some possibilities, though not necessarily in the exact wording you would use:

Option 1: “You’re right! I never thought about it that way, and now I totally agree.”

This is possible, but not that likely unless there’s a teacher-student relationship or something like that. If it’s advice from one peer to another, then to achieve this happy ending, the critic would have to not only know what they’re talking about, but also be on the same wavelength as the other person. There are lots of different wavelengths.

Option 2: “I understand that you have your opinion. But obviously I disagree, or I would have already been doing it that way. I disagree because…”

This settles the matter by explaining why you’re not going to listen to them, but it’s not what they want to hear. It’s likely to result in “Geez, I’m just trying to help.”

Option 3: “Thanks, I’ll think about it.”

There are some cases where you’ll eventually change your mind after you hear enough about it. I didn’t use Gmail right away, but someone told me about it a few times, and then one day when I needed to email myself a file too big for Yahoo to handle, I got a Gmail account. And there have been times when I was considering something, but just hadn’t been fully persuaded yet, so I was open to any input. Advice can potentially be very constructive when phrased as “Consider doing this…” instead of “You suck because…”

“I’ll think about it” actually seems like a very good response because it shows that you’re listening, but it doesn’t commit you to anything. On the other hand, is it OK to say you’ll think about it, if you know that you really won’t? If someone tells me “Your posts are too wordy, you should just list a few bullet points,” should I say “OK, I’ll think about it,” or should I explain why I’m not going to do it?

Tips for giving advice:

1. Remember that they didn’t ask for your advice. But if you really think you can help, approach with caution.

2. Give one piece of advice at a time. They don’t want a list of the top 10 reasons they suck.

3. Realize that your opinion is just your opinion. They might have a different one. So might billions of other people.

4. Don’t get mad if they don’t comply. Maybe they just have different tastes. Or maybe they’re just not there yet. Or maybe your sales pitch sucks.

Tips for receiving advice:

1. Comments from drunk morons…just ignore them.

2. If it’s helpful advice like “This link is broken” or “You have parsley stuck in your teeth,” say “Thanks!”

3. If the advice is potentially helpful but you’re not ready to jump on it yet, say “Thanks, I’ll think about it.”

4. If you disagree with the advice, or you’re sick of hearing it, or the person doesn’t know what they’re talking about…well, I don’t know. Your thoughts?

Have You Been Infected With The Critic Virus?

Monday, November 24th, 2008

I Am Legend
Image from I Am Legend (2007)

I Am Legend is about a just-around-the-corner future where they find a cure for cancer by genetically re-engineering the measles virus. But the virus mutates into an airborne strain with catastrophic results.

90% of the world’s population is killed.

9% mutate into evil vampire zombies like the one above. They’re extremely hostile, have superhuman strength, and have a one-track mind focused on killing people. Fortunately, they can only come out at night because of their painful sensitivity to ultraviolet radiation.

(The pic comes from the alternate ending where they all decide to become friends. You can see the love in their eyes.)

1% are immune to the virus. This sounds good, until you consider that these people have to constantly defend themselves from hordes of evil vampire zombies.

That’s how it goes with critics too. I’m not talking about people who simply have different opinions, but people who tell you that you need to change. There seems to be some kind of airborne critic virus that affects people differently.

90% of your critics are dead to constructive criticism. They can only offer completely useless feedback like “you suck.”

9% of your critics are mutants who retain some of their humanity, but aren’t helpful. This can be because they have unreasonable demands, or they’re not seeing all sides of the situation, or maybe they simply have opinions that are perfectly valid, just being expressed in an overly confrontational way. Unfortunately, ultraviolet light does not deter them.

In Ode To My Hatemail, Naomi Dunford gives a long list of complaints she’s received about Online Business School. These complaints are not only really picky, but they contradict each other.

Some people complained that they hate audio, and want it all to be video. Others complained that they hate video, and want it all to be audio. And others complained that they hate PDFs, and wonder why she thinks people are deaf and need transcripts. This is the thanks she gets for making everything available in different formats to make everyone happy.

But 1% of your critics are the people you need to listen to. No one is perfect, and there are always things we can do better. When someone offers good constructive advice, we should listen. But how do you know who to listen to?

You might not, at first. It might take some time for the advice to sink in, or you might need to hear it from multiple people. But what you want to look for is people who know what they’re talking about, understand your situation, and want to help you.

But sometimes after fighting off so many of the bad critics, we fail to recognize the good ones. Robert Neville (Will Smith) survived by only going out in the daylight, covering his tracks with rubbing alcohol, rigging his property with UV spotlights and explosives, and sleeping in a bathtub with his assault rifle. Not much of a life. By the time he finally met another immune person, he had forgotten how to be human.

Don’t hide from your critics, just know who to pay attention to. Also be careful when you’re the critic.