Postcards from the Field: Feedback Backfires
Postcards from the Field is where I share brief field reports from my work with real leadership teams. Rather than polished case studies, these notes surface the moments that stop me mid-session and point to the everyday habits that shape performance when conditions are uncertain. My aim is to translate what I’m seeing in the field into practical value readers can apply in their own teams.
Last week, I facilitated an immersive feedback lab with a group of VP+ leaders at a large, complex organization in the healthcare space. The session was designed as a working lab rather than a traditional workshop, with senior leaders stepping into realistic role play scenarios that reflected the kinds of conversations they are asked to navigate in their actual roles. The goal was not to discuss feedback in the abstract, but to examine what happens to feedback when pressure, hierarchy, and risk are present in the room. In that setting, small shifts in how a message is delivered can have outsized effects on how it is experienced.
Early in the lab, one leader stepped into a scenario and opened a feedback conversation in a way that sounded, on the surface, thoughtful and careful. They began by affirming the individual, signaling that they valued their contributions and wanted to approach the conversation with sensitivity. From there, they introduced the concern, but in language that remained general, softened, and deliberately non-specific. It was the kind of opening many experienced leaders reach for when they are trying to balance candor with care in a high-stakes moment.
What happened next was instructive. The conversation did not become easier. It became slower and more strained. The person on the receiving end did not feel reassured by the care embedded in the opening. They felt unclear about what was actually being said. Their response shifted quickly into questions: what specifically are you referring to, can you give me an example, what did I do that led to this feedback? The exchange became more effortful as both people worked to close a gap that had been created by the lack of specificity in the initial message.
As we paused the role play and reflected on the moment, a pattern emerged that was immediately recognizable to the group. The issue was not intent. The leader was trying to handle the conversation responsibly, aware that the moment carried risk. But in attempting to reduce that risk, they had removed the very detail that would have made the feedback usable. Without observable behavior and concrete examples, the feedback required interpretation, and interpretation is where friction tends to grow.
This dynamic becomes more pronounced as leaders operate in environments with higher stakes and more visible power dynamics. When the perceived risk in the room is uneven, whether due to hierarchy, reputation, or identity, leaders often become more cautious than they intend. That caution can show up as delay, over-softening, or a shift toward language that feels safer to deliver but is less precise.
From the leader’s perspective, this can feel like a disciplined and thoughtful approach. From the receiver’s perspective, it often creates ambiguity about what is actually being asked of them.
The unintended consequence is that feedback begins to lose its grounding. Without specificity, the receiver has less to engage with and more to infer. The absence of clear behavioral detail can cause the message to feel broader than it was intended to be, and in some cases, more personal. What was meant to be a measured and respectful intervention can instead feel harder to act on and, at times, harder to trust.
In the second round of the lab, the same leader approached the conversation differently. They anchored the feedback in a specific moment, described what was observable, and articulated the impact on the team and the work. The tone remained respectful, but the language became more precise. The shift in the conversation was immediate. The receiver no longer needed to search for meaning or reconstruct the situation. The discussion moved more directly into understanding and next steps, with less friction and less uncertainty.
That contrast is easy to overlook in theory, but difficult to miss in practice. Precision did not make the feedback harsher. It made it clearer. It reduced the need for interpretation and increased the likelihood that the message could be used productively. In doing so, it supported both sides of the conversation in staying focused on the work rather than the ambiguity surrounding it.
In environments where pressure is high and relationships carry real consequence, that distinction matters.