It may be hard for some of us to believe (not because of who said it but because of the content of what is said) what the American businesswoman Mary Kay Ash once claimed, “There are two things people want more than sex and money.” Our initial thought as to what those two things could possibly be might well be to proffer the idea of power and success. We would be wrong to think that, for the answer the fine lady gives is “recognition and praise”. We do so love to hear people praise and compliment us! We desperately want to hear nice things said about us and our performances; we delight in any adulation and affirmation, confident that there is great truth in them. Why else does the wife come downstairs as she prepares to go for a night out and ask her husband, “How do I look?”
What do we say in such situations? Do we say, “You look gorgeous” when at the same time we are thinking the dress does not suit her? Do we say, “No, it doesn’t suit you and I suggest you change”? Or do we mumble something along the lines of “It is different” and “Whatever you feel comfortable in”? Do we tell the truth (and potentially face the cold shoulder for the night) or tell a white lie (to make her feel better, making it a better night for us) or do we try to pretend we did not hear the question (to make it easier for us)? In such circumstances some husbands may have followed the old proverb: “Speak the truth… but leave immediately after”. Alternatively others may well have taken the different (anonymous) piece of advice: “Always tell the truth. Even if you have to make it up”.
Doc Rivers, a highly successful basketball player and coach, is well known for saying, “Average players want to be left alone, good players want to be coached, and great players want the truth”. Firstly, he argues that players who do not ask for or accept feedback will end up only as average players; they will not go far. Average players think everything is going fine and only listen to their own inner feedback, which is always going to be subjective, prejudiced and positive; they will shut out other voices as it is much easier, safer, nicer, more comfortable to do so. They receive enough praise from themselves they do not need criticism from other people.
Good players, Rivers argues, do want feedback but only in the sense of they want to be coached. They want to hear the principles, the theory, without it being applied to them specifically. In such a way the feedback can be done at a distance, impersonally and therefore unthreateningly. They want to develop as a player by being told, coached, explained, not slated, criticised or evaluated.
Great players, in contrast, want the truth, the whole truth, nothing but the truth – the truth about their performance, their ability, their attitude, their everything. They do not want flattery (which is regularly found around such people who have found fame and success), nor any superficial ‘flannel’. They know they need to be told straight where they need to work, what they must do. They want the criticism to be specific, direct, personal, proven, constructive. Truth can hurt, yes, but it heals, strengthens, develops and frees. They want to know their weaknesses, which most likely are hidden to their own eyes. As Kipling spoke of treating triumph and disaster in the same way, so we must treat adulation and criticism in the same manner. Very often it is the same people who give adulation one day but criticism the next. If we believe them one day, we must believe them the next.
Ken Blanchard, a leadership guru, has said, “Feedback is the breakfast of champions.” It must be truthful though. Albert Einstein put it simply: “If you are out to describe the truth, leave elegance to the tailor.” Lou Holtz, an American Football player, agreed: “It’s always better to face the truth, no matter how uncomfortable, than to continue coddling a lie.” White lies matter, in the sense that they can have a damaging effect and should be avoided. The truth needs to be faced if we are to move forward. We may have thought we were being kind to our wife by saying she looked gorgeous in the dress we did not rate but in the long run we have not helped her as she then faced an evening of deep embarrassment in front of her friends and colleagues which could have been avoided if we had simply had the guts to tell the truth. Anthon St. Maarten, who calls himself a destiny coach, put it like this: “One sincere truth from a stranger is more likely to move your life forward…than anything your friends and family may tell you to spare your feelings.” Enjoy your breakfast!
