/ 19 April 2002

Sometimes we just need to admit that we’ve screwed up

Sally Burdett

How do you handle criticism? You know, that little churning ball of anxiety that starts to move around your gut when someone tells you that you screwed up or got it wrong, or hurt them?

The reflex response is to defend. It is certainly one way of calming the sick feeling inside. Unfortunately we often do not even consider whether what is being said has any validity at all. No time for that, we are too busy obscuring the uncomfortable observations of our critics with excuses and denials.

Or we attack. This also involves not listening to the critic, but with the added twist of telling them they have no right to criticise because they are wrong too. Loud angry words swing the focus away from us and straight back to the person who dared to raise the issue.

Another great way of defending ourselves against criticism is to pick on group identity our own or the other person’s and use that as the excuse. But did you really not get the job because you are black/white/ male/female? Assessing whether you have a potential discrimination case in your favour or whether it is time for a bit of honest soul-searching can be a tough call. It’s much easier to take refuge in your group identity, polarise the critic in theirs, fog the details and let yourself off the hook.

How many of us take a deep breath, and just listen? Live with the churning ball of anxiety within, the potential loss of face and pride, the shame of having hurt someone you love. It does not mean our accuser will always be right but, if we can hear what they are saying in the first place, we will be better able to assess if they have a point.

But nowadays there does not seem to be much honour attached to admitting you were wrong. Wouldn’t it be grand to hear a politician say: “Sorry guys, I really screwed up, and you made me realise that. I will now be putting it right immediately.”

Dream on, girl.

But, lest I be criticised for criticising politicians (again), let me add that it is just as hard in private, for a loved one to agree with another (albeit probably peeved) loved one that they really need to start giving more time to their relationship.

I think one of the reasons it is so hard to listen to and concede criticism is that we have confused it with weakness or failure. But admitting you are wrong is not a weakness it is a strength. And true failure is repeatedly refusing to see your faults.

Perhaps the dread feeling comes from those childhood days when criticism felt like banishment from the family unhappily ever after, and the first instinct was to flee to the bottom of the garden and hide from the people from the orphanage that Mum was probably calling.

Or maybe it is because it is quite hard to change behaviour, which we are duty bound to attempt after admitting we are wrong.

And then of course there is that old chestnut our pride. The ego says that if you concede too many points your critic becomes your controller, and you will lose all power. Do not be a doormat, that part of you urges. So you set up an internal tally system, which assesses how many times your critic screws up, compared to you. Then when you feel they have pointed the finger once too often, you nab them, and revert to attack as the best form of defence.

When both parties engage in this for long enough you end up with an intractable conflict, be it in the Middle East or over the kitchen table.

Learning to listen to criticism is a life skill we all have to tackle. We have to attain that delicate balance between listening and talking, accepting criticism and giving it, and apologising if necessary.

Personally, I think it is about keeping your heart open but not being intimidated by your critics, about listening to what is being said and then honestly evaluating if it is fair.

Take the criticism on board too much and you end up with the sinking ship of an unbalanced relationship, shattered self-esteem or self-censorship. Take it on board too little and you build for yourself a pompous little boat that drifts slowly but surely away from truth and understanding.

The big truth, of course, is that we will never only be in just the one boat. Not always wrong, but not always right, either. And if we can accept that, criticism might be a little easier to listen to next time./