It could be a “note” from a film producer, an edit from a publisher, a comment on an Instagram post or a sharpie on a photograph. Critique, feedback and suggestions come in many forms, and they are often critical to the success of a project.
It might be necessary, but it isn’t always pleasant. I don’t think anyone really loves having their creative ideas or work critiqued. When we’re alone, we can believe almost anything we make is great. But all it takes is a few words or a shake of the head for us to crash back down to earth. As a designer, I’ve left reviews and “crits” stinging from feedback I’ve taken too personally.
How people deal with negative feedback varies. Some seek it out and celebrate rejections as rites of passage. Some wilt under pressure. Others grow thicker skin. I spoke to a senior product leader at a tech company who said she learned to reframe the feedback she received as “opinions.” If the opinion came from someone important to the success of the project, or someone with skin in the game, she listened. Everything else she ignored.
In a similar way, Kelvin Sheppard, defensive coordinator of the Detroit Lions, dismisses feedback from the press and public as “perceptions.” In a recent presser he said “I couldn’t care less about the perceptions. I couldn’t care less about the talk. It’s all poison. The praise is the big poison, not just the negativity.”
Sounds a bit defensive to me. And that’s the default position for most of us. We quickly grow tired and wary of critique and find ways to avoid it. We share work less often, with fewer people. We buff and smooth our work so it’s safer and more conventional. Designers end up weaponising the natural constraints of a project as reasons the work is the way it is (and why it can’t be changed).
Defensiveness closes down a lot of things, but it especially hurts creativity. Instead of seeking out fresh and different ideas, we find ourselves clinging to our “darlings”, wielding all sorts of methods to protect them when they probably should be killed.
The person giving feedback is often just as stuck. “That won’t work.” “It needs to be like this instead.” Even helpful suggestions can carry an unhelpful certainty that ruins any chance of collaboration. One side digs in to guard their idea, the other digs in to change it or impose their will.
This battle isn’t unique to design. It can happen any time an idea is proposed and someone else has a feeling it’s wrong or it could be better.
So what do we do?
One approach is to give the idea a fair hearing: evaluate it carefully, clearly and impartially. Jumping straight to the flaws is addictive, but it rarely gets a good outcome. Imagine a judge who shrieks “He’s guilty! I just know it, trust me!” before the trial has begun. Will you still find gaps and flaws? Of course, but they’ll emerge naturally, when they need to. And you might notice strengths you’d missed through rash judgement or bias.
And rather than criticising someone’s idea, try steelmanning it instead, which means intentionally building the strongest, most reasonable version rather than tearing it down. Maybe there’s a good reason for cooking a steak in an oven, or taking highway B instead of A. Have a think!
The hardest part will be resisting the urge to offer a better way. The feeling that we’re right and know best is so strong that sometimes it feels impossible not to say something. But if we can find ways to temporarily shelve our opinions, it’s much easier to relax and figure out ways to make it work. In fact, everyone relaxes when we open up to new options and possibilites.
As much as we might enjoy the feeling of being vindicated, I don’t think that’s what we want deep down. We don’t want to spend our lives picking flaws in things and proving people wrong. That’s not what being creative is about.
In an ideal world, everyone is able to create freely and create the best possible things together. But that is only possible once we learn to approach things fairly and resist the urge to critique.
