As a manager, when do you pass along the feedback to the relevant contributor or department, and when do you spare them?

W

e have a very engaged and vocal readership that can be brutally honest. Sometimes we get compliments from you, sometimes we get corrections. Sometimes it’s complaints, and sometimes it’s flaming “how dare you, how could you” accusations. All feedback is welcome and all feedback is valued. But as a manager, when do you pass along the feedback to the relevant contributor or department, and when do you spare them?

To me, the main parameters are specific, productive, and long-term value.

I’m still trying to master the formula, and sometimes I get it wrong. I’ll look at a draft and say, “this isn’t working for me.” That might be accurate, but it’s also limited. It definitely isn’t going to get us closer to something that does work.

Progress will only happen if I can explain what about the draft isn’t working — the lead, the tone, the focus, the color, the font, the dialogue. Once I can figure out the specific aspect that needs improvement, the process becomes productive.

The same dynamic is at play when it comes to your feedback. A few weeks ago, we got a letter that illuminated how a specific turn of phrase hit a wrong note and caused someone pain. A writer had aimed for a light, fun tone, and unfortunately the language came across as hurtful and mocking.

Should I share the letter with the relevant parties? This feedback was definitely specific. Apologizing and raising awareness would be productive. But was it important in the long term?

In general, I don’t think there’s much to be gained discussing an isolated mistake unless it’s part of a trend or pattern, or bespeaks a lack of knowledge or skill. Sometimes a mistake is an opportunity to review certain rules, reevaluate a procedure, or figure out a better path forward. But if an isolated mistake is just that — a one-time mistake — then it’s probably best to focus on the future.

In the case of this letter, the increased sensitivity would definitely benefit us in the long term. So I shared the feedback with all the staff members who’d worked on the piece. Hopefully, we’d all be more sensitive in the future about the power of language to hurt readers, and exercise another layer of judgment before sending a piece to print.

In contrast, just last week a letter came in complaining that a certain aspect of the publication wasn’t “up to standard.” This time I wasn’t sure it made sense to share it with the relevant team. No one comes in to the office saying, “Today I’m not going to produce up to standard.” Hearing that your work isn’t “good enough” or “what the readers expect” is just so vague that it’s hard to see how it would be helpful. (Some might even hear it as “you are not good enough” — because it doesn’t come with any details about what is wrong and how to make it better.) So that’s a letter I didn’t pass along.

Readers, of course, can share any and all feedback, and on a management level, we’re grateful to get it. It’s our job to tease out specific takeaways from vague messages. Sometimes that work is excruciating and usually it’s humbling too — it means facing our failings with a critical eye and being willing to start rebuilding from the ground up.

But most of our contributors and team members haven’t signed up for that kind of self-scrutiny. They’re looking to do their best — or even beyond their best — but that isn’t served much by hearing that their work “isn’t good enough.”

When the feedback is specific and we can discuss ways to solve a problem or improve our product, it’s worth having a discussion. And we’ve been blessed with a team that is excited to keep trying continually harder to raise — then meet — the bar. But even so, the point is not to put anyone in their place, or to rip apart misjudgments or miscalculations that could have or should have been avoided. Rather, it’s with an eye toward the long term, toward building a better product next week.

(Originally featured in Mishpacha, Issue 840)