Going beyond disagree and commit
Last week during a one on one meeting, someone — let’s call them Sam — mentioned a situation in which they had given harsh criticism in a public forum. The criticism wasn’t unconstructive, but it read to me like “you’ve got this all wrong” in a few hundred words. Inside the criticism, Sam did offer to spend time in a follow-up in-person, which I think was a good choice, but the effect of the feedback was sharp. I gathered from the fact that Sam brought it up that they didn’t feel right about the interaction and were looking for feedback from me.
My brain quickly jumped to a podcast I had listened to recently where Randall Stutman was interviewed. A lot of the interview talked about feedback and there were plenty of interesting and useful points, but one lodged itself in my brain: the idea giving feedback as a “fan.” You want feedback from someone who is invested in your success. The “fan” framing doesn’t work perfectly for me, but I thought about how I give feedback to coworkers I have longer term or even personal relationships with. I don’t pull punches with them, but I deeply contextualize critical feedback. I situate that critique inside the longer arc of their skills and accomplishments. I’m giving them a nudge to keep them on the right path rather than raining colossal waves of judgement on them.
I reflected this back to Sam, wondering if they thought they might’ve approached the situation differently if they were a “fan.” It seemed to resonate with them, and they added that they had gone back to the individual whose work they critiqued and offered an apology. Sam also offered to give additional feedback or to “disagree and commit” depending on what the recipient wanted. That made me wonder even further: what does it mean to “disagree and commit” as a fan?
When I give critique to the coworkers I feel closest to and who I trust the most, I almost always end it the same way. After giving any critical feedback, I say “whatever you decide, I’ll back it 100%. In the meantime, let me know how I can help.” It is the same thing as saying I will “disagree and commit,” but it is focused on what it means for me to commit. If you “disagree and commit,” but can only offer to re-hash contrarian views, that’s not committing. But neither is removing yourself from the equation and passively letting it play out. When you commit to something you are agreeing to put in the work to make it succeed. If you want to “disagree and commit” on something, you show up the next day ready to work your ass off to make it amazing. There are cases where you have a moral or ethical imperative to not commit, but ego shouldn’t keep you on the sidelines.
Next time I’m in a situation in which I might’ve offered to disagree and commit, I’m going to follow the playbook I described above. I’ll offer my feedback as clearly as I can, but I’ll tell the decider that I’ll be working to support their decision and get others up-to-speed and onboard. It will feel scary to have that kind of vulnerability with someone I don’t have a long history with, but I think that discomfort is part of learning to lead. I want the people I work with to succeed, even when they make different choices than I would’ve made.
