Why feedback feels risky and what to do about it

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To the ego, feedback is a threat. In a growth system, feedback is a necessity.

Offering feedback can feel risky, whether it’s at work or to someone we have a close relationship with. Receiving feedback can feel awful.

But why?

Because we have egos.

The ego feels threatened by feedback when its identity is wrapped up in ideas of perfection, authority, goodness, worthiness, value, or rank.

“Perfection” doesn’t need feedback, it’s already perfect—so feedback threatens its perfection. However, there’s no such thing as perfection, so what that’s all about is actually needing to be perceived as excellent. It’s about identity—and comparison.

“Authority” is in charge, so feedback threatens its in-chargeness—its power over others, its higher rank (which keeps the ego feeling worthy). This is also about identity and comparison.

The ego HATES its identity being questioned.

This is why, in an organization, it can feel risky to offer feedback up—if the hierarchy is rigid and identities are very invested in their rank within it, then the person receiving the feedback can feel like their authority is being questioned.

The person offering the feedback feels vulnerable, because the person they’re giving the feedback to is often the one who evaluates them—and thus can determine their livelihood.

This is one of the perils of hierarchy—and a great loss.

In our personal relationships, the stakes are also high: we risk the possibility of rupture if we lack the skills to navigate the dynamic of giving and receiving feedback graciously. No wonder we don’t like to deal with this.

This is source of tension that’s rarely talked about, but very real and pretty common.

Instead of tiptoeing around our egos and pretending this dynamic isn’t happening, why not just admit to the fact that our feathers get ruffled—but that’s okay, we can learn the skills to get on with things anyway?

Any organization, system, or relationship that plans to grow needs feedback. Without it, it’s flying blind and stunting its own growth.

Like failure, feedback is just data.

When we remove judgment from it, it’s neutral—not an attack on someone’s skill, worth, or authority.

It IS an admission that things are not perfect—which is REAL. Reality is something we can work with.

And so are egos: we can learn to witness our egos, but not let them derail the feedback loop.

We can build feedback-sharing practices into businesses and relationships so it’s expected and welcomed—like vacuuming under the rug when we’ve swept stuff under it. It’s just good hygiene.

We can de-personalize the feedback, so it doesn’t feel so vulnerable: it’s just what happened, not the sum total of who you/we are.

Again, we get tangled in the identity piece.

The more feedback we give and receive, the more our egos can relax into and trust the new pattern.

We’re all still responsible for our actions, but the more we give and get feedback about how we’re impacted by events and our part in them, the more levers we have to find healthier ways of doing things.

Without feedback, we’re stuck repeating the same unhealthy habits.

We can learn that our egos can survive feedback, and even better—thrive beyond it.

Then, we can grow—together.

Failure is just feedback. How to use it well.

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Recognize that failure is just feedback.

What is failure, anyway? Just something that didn’t work. 

So why are we so ridiculously uncomfortable with it?

Not because it didn’t work—all sorts of things don’t work—but because of the judgment we place on the fact that it didn’t work. And the scrutiny that subjects us to—from ourselves, and others.

Why do we need to judge and scrutinize?

We don’t need to, really—we’re just used to it. Why? Because humans love control almost as much as we love rank + authority to define ourselves. We pretend they’re not the arbitrary illusions that they are in order to feel some sense of agency in our lives.

But control and rank are not actually agency, they’re coping mechanisms for NOT feeling our agency.

For trying to force outcomes, instead of allowing them to unfold. For allowing the trial, but not the error. For judging others—or ourselves—in order to rank our identities as “better than” or “not enough.”

But true agency is actually NAVIGATION of what arises, not control over it.

What’s the best way to navigate something?

Get curious, not judgmental.

To the ego, feedback feels like a threat. To a system seeking healthy balance, feedback is a necessity.

When we remove judgment from a situation, “failure” becomes incredibly useful data for how to move forward—and how not to.

Then, when we move forward, integrate feedback, and iterate, the “failure” becomes just one more step in the process.

This isn’t to say we need to aim for failure, just that when it happens, to not act as if we’re shocked by the treachery.

Failure. Is just. A thing. That. Didn’t. Work.

That’s it.

Why did it fail? Why did that person do this thing? Why didn’t I?

Those are the more interesting questions—open-ended portals to solutions, rather than judgments people can’t wait to squirm away from.

When curiosity comes in, there’s POSSIBILITY. And whenever there’s possibility, there’s POWER—power to iterate, tweak, putter, collaborate, practice, try, try again.

That’s where true power lies: building agency and identity through navigating ALL of life, not just the successful parts—together.