
Have you ever heard of PCP?
I don’t mean the drug that makes people do crazy things. I’m referring to the criticism template that stands for Praise, Correct, Praise. It’s sometimes called the correction sandwich and is designed to make giving and receiving criticism a bit easier.
We use it a lot in martial arts instruction, particularly with our Little Dragons, the four- to seven-year-olds who might get their feelings hurt. It goes something like this: “Cindy, I just love how high your roundhouse kick went! That’s really great. Next time, if you pivot your foot on the ground just a little, your kick will be even more powerful than it already is!” Now the child presumably is so excited about her high roundhouse kick that she’ll pivot to gain even more praise.
While there are certainly people who thrive on giving criticism (sometimes the harsher, the better), most of us worry that we’ll hurt someone’s feelings or that we’ll come across as a know-it-all. And so we hide our criticism in fluffy bread, making the correction sandwich something more akin to a popover.
And we do it for understandable reasons. We get our feelings hurt when we’re corrected. When I wrote my first novel, I was delighted to receive dozens of five-star, glowing reviews. When I got a four-star response, I was devastated. Never mind that the content of the review was nothing but positive, I was gutted. It read:
I need to improve! Aarrgghh!
My response was incredibly immature, but there you have it.
This week, I finished reading book five of a seven-book series. I loved the first three books. Book four was a little disappointing, but book five was, um…not good. I toyed with whether or not to write a review. When I remembered how I felt getting a less-than-perfect review, I wondered if I should take a PCP approach to the text. Maybe I should write, “I thoroughly enjoyed the first three books of the series, but books four and five were a bit disappointing. Nevertheless, I love this author, and I’m still looking forward to books six and seven!”
What would be the point?
Words matter. If corrective feedback is to be effective, it has to be clear and direct. Direct doesn’t equate to mean, yet we often fear it will come across that way. Instead of taking the weaselly PCP approach, why can’t we simply state the facts in an objective way? The truth is, the book didn’t live up to the standard the author set in the first three books. She’s a great storyteller and I will keep reading the series, hoping this is just a blip. She very likely won’t ever see my feedback—she has 10 million adoring fans and my little comments aren’t going to hurt her feelings.
But it got me thinking about all the times I have considered my own thin skin and assumed someone else felt the same way. I’ve hemmed and hawed, watered down, and beaten around the proverbial bush instead of speaking directly.
And that’s unkind.
Mincing words means I don’t expect the listener to be mature enough to receive my criticism. It sends the message that I don’t trust them with hard things. It doesn’t speak well of our relationship.
And I don’t only mean close, personal relationships. This applies to me with my colleagues or my undergraduate students. It applies to business partners or customer service representatives, to acquaintances and someone I meet on a plane. The key to delivering criticism is not making it about me.
Delivering criticism can be a kindness if it’s done well. And if I don’t intend it as a kindness, I have no business delivering it. Receiving kindly delivered criticism can be life-changing, but if it’s delivered in anger or some other negative emotion, I can simply refuse it.
And so I think I will craft that review. I’ll be kind and direct since the author (with multiple NYT bestsellers) is certainly not a Little Dragon.
And then I’ll get right back to book six.
PS If you’re a contemporary romance reader, I hope you’ll check out Something Will Sing to Your Heart, book two of Blooming, The Series, available for preorder now!
My very wise husband has a phrase that I’ll share, “Clear is kind”. Thank you for your post. It resonated with me today!
Cindy. What a terrific perspective. Thank you for sharing as a leader of a business and a people pleaser I’m often toeing the line of giving feedback and then worrying how people are going to receive it, and I sometimes don’t offer it when I should.
You reminded me of two things. First I once heard the phrase, which I had forgotten until reading your essay that “sometimes being unkind is being kind.” The essence being what we perceive as unkind is really being direct. And by not being direct as you point out, that’s unkind.
The second is an extension of this even further. One of my favorite books of all time is The 8 Habits of Love by Rev. Ed Bacon. It’s a beautiful and easy read, told through stories. One of the 8 habits (along with generosity, forgiveness, community, stillness, etc) is candor. When I think of candor, it’s like directness with love, care, and empathy. But it’s directness nevertheless.
Anyway I thought I’d share what showed up for me from your piece.
🙏🙏