by Anne Dickson
While these various guidelines can help you to defuse another person’s anger or aggression, don’t imagine they are mechanical techniques. You can get the words right and the voice right but there is something else at the heart of this kind of communication which is essential for it to be truly effective. If you speak from a position of judgement or disapproval about the other person’s feelings; if you ignore or negate their anger; if you imply that they have no right to feel what they are feeling, this will come across as an open invitation to get into a fight.
Sandra’s acknowledgement that Mr. Simmons was angry – even though she may not have understood exactly why – was a major contribution to defusing his tirade. Steph didn’t criticise Paul for being angry: she understood why and sympathised. What she wanted was for him to stop taking it out on her. The process of accepting and understanding your own anger – without disapproval – will make you more able to respond to anger in others without negating their feelings. Once again we see how equality is at the core of assertive communication.
13
How to Handle Criticism: on the receiving end
Few of us welcome criticism with open arms. If caught unawares by a critical comment we can feel stung; if we are anticipating a criticism, we feel anxious and defensive. Our current adult response to criticism is usually based on our reaction to being criticised in the past: a week ago, a year ago or even many years ago in childhood.
Childhood experience of criticism can provide an important insight into achieving an assertive response: both how to respond to someone’s criticism of you and also how to give critical feedback to someone else. It is a very sensitive area and an element in the training programme that many participants find difficult to handle. It means looking at the vulnerable places within each of us which we may prefer to avoid. But avoiding criticism is what most of us try to do already. It’s easy to stop ourselves from saying what we want to say, doing what we want to do, living how we want to live, being who we want to be, all to avoid the possibility of real or imagined criticism and disapproval.
Why does criticism hit so hard? Why does the very word ‘criticism’ have such a nasty ring to it? Pause for a while and review your recollections of being criticised, especially those from childhood and see if you can identify with any of the following: being made to look foolish when making a mistake; the ominous comment on a school report about being lazy or a bad influence; being scolded for getting dirty or shouting back; being punished for being jealous and spiteful; being ridiculed for something beyond your control like getting low marks in a subject or being overweight or clumsy; belittled for being childish because you were afraid of the dark and did not want to be left alone.
The first, almost universal, element in our experience of criticism is the use of labels. Few parents heed the principle that it is far more effective to criticise the behaviour not the child. So we tend to associate criticism with a label of some kind: ‘you’re stupid’, ‘you’re hopeless’, ‘you’re a nuisance’, ‘you’re a show-off’, ‘you’re deceitful’, ‘you’ll never be as good as your sister’, ‘you’re selfish’, ‘you’re a real burden to your mother’. It was not simply that you had done something silly or said something unkind: the label implied that you were fundamentally stupid and bad!
The second element is that many of us interpret criticism as rejection. When someone criticises us, we tend not to regard this as stemming from loving intentions designed to benefit us but as disapproval, punishment, a withdrawal of affection and love and occasionally total annihilation. In fact, we are often correct in perceiving criticism as negative and unloving because that is exactly how it was and still is communicated. Our anticipation of criticism as rejection is based on childhood memories and later reinforced by more recent criticism given to us as adults. Obviously we are no longer as vulnerable as when we were children but past and present tend to become quite muddled in our emotional reactions.
Both giving and receiving criticism tends to be handled very badly. To get a better idea of how childhood perceptions affect your adult reaction to criticism, consider how you respond to criticism now. See if you can identify with the six-year-old thoughts and feelings of the following three little girls:
‘You wait!’ . . . an Agnes in the making: ‘How dare you call me stupid? I’m not stupid. You’re stupid. What’s wrong with it anyway? Ouch! I always get hit. That hurts. You just wait until I get bigger. Then I’ll get my own back. I’ll hurt you more. I’ll make you sorry. You’ll see. Just because you’re a grown-up . . . you wait!’
‘It’s not fair’ . . . an Ivy in the making: ‘It wasn’t my fault. He started it anyway. You’re just picking on me. It’s always me. You never see the good things. What do you mean, take that look off my face? I just hate you. Still, I’d better look as if I’m sorry. But I’m not really, it’s not fair . . . ’
‘I just can’t help it’ . . . a Dulcie in the making: ‘I can’t help making mistakes. I can’t help being clumsy . . . how was I to know it was so important? I can never seem to do the right thing. You’re always getting at me. If I weren’t here, then you’d be happy. You don’t love me anymore. Why is it always me? I just can’t help it.’
You may recognise a little of yourself in all three examples. Some of the same thoughts and feelings of the young Agnes, Ivy and Dulcie emerge as adults. We can often end up struggling to manage criticism as an intelligent adult, yet inside experiencing feelings and reactions more appropriate to the six-year-old child.
The problem with all three strategies is that none of them includes listening to the criticism. The adult Agnes will remain impervious. She regards criticism as nothing but an attack and since she spent so much time in the powerless position, she now has to make sure she wins. Consequently, she tends to retaliate immediately with ‘How dare you!’ or ‘It’s your fault’. She will not hear of being at fault herself. All the past helplessness wells up in her and she has to prove herself the winner when under threat in this way.
The adult Ivy will also refuse to let in the truth of the criticism because her sense of unfairness is stirred up. Although she may adopt a suitably penitent expression and silently ‘suffer’ accusation, she will get her own back. She won’t forget and will retaliate with a subtle barbed or loaded comment later on (sometimes much later on) when her critic is least expecting it.
And Dulcie? She does not really listen to the criticism either. She immediately crumbles: too readily she agrees with the critic that she is at fault, she is no good or she really is a failure. Anything valid and specific that her critic is saying is likely to sink without trace in the broad swamp of self-pity and self-reproach.
As a result of such conditioning, most of us have developed the habit of feeling defensive when faced with someone who criticises us. We anticipate an attack: we expect to have to defend ourselves and so the minute we suspect a criticism is coming, psychologically we arch our backs. We are also very suspicious about the slightest possibility of one-upmanship, alert to the possibility that the other person is trying to demonstrate superiority over us in some way: this means that by acknowledging the truth of what they are saying, it automatically means that we have ‘lost’ and they have ‘won’. This is why criticism is such a sensitive area: a veritable minefield.
These difficulties are perpetuated by the manner in which most adults continue to give criticism to each other. Most critics – whether our friends, partners, parents or employers – will still use labels and often consider themselves as self-appointed judges of our behaviour. But even though you cannot demand that others hone their skills in giving criticism, you can nevertheless learn to respond assertively to criticism yourself.
An Assertive Approach to Criticism
It will make a difference to your response whether or not the criticism is true or untrue. This means we have to listen to what is said before responding appropriately. Too many unspoken challenges and too many kneejerk apologies combine to make us so confused
and oversensitive about the issue that even when someone says something true and potentially helpful, we cannot hear it and instead are prone to hate the critic for having dared to voice a personal opinion.
Valid criticism is criticism which hits home. You can’t deny that it’s legitimate. You did make a mess of that job; you have arrived late too often; you did forget an important instruction; you do change your mind a lot; you are putting on weight; you are fussy . . . whatever it is, you know that it is true and does apply to you, even if you would rather not admit it.
Handling such criticism requires the skill of negative assertion which helps you to respond either when it’s constructive and meant to be helpful or even when it’s hostile and aimed at making you feel small. Whether the critic has your own interests at heart or is simply out to attack you is less important than whether or not what is being said is true.
Negative assertion is learning how to agree with the criticism, if it applies to you, and to recognise it as valid: ‘yes, I am untidy’; ‘yes, I agree, I did make a mess of that last piece of work’; ‘you’re right, it was a stupid decision’. You do not have to melt into a pool of self-deprecation and abject apology. Nor do you have to round on your critic and prove them wrong. You can simply acknowledge the truth in what your critic is saying. Then you can feel less defensive and more accepting of yourself.
When most of us have spent a lifetime ducking criticism or being hurt by unfair criticism (that we failed to challenge), we need to acknowledge this is going to be a tricky path to follow. However, once we begin to listen to criticism without instantly feeling demolished, it makes an enormous difference to our behaviour. It frees us up to be more impulsive and to take more risks: in other words, it gives us more self-confidence. It may take a while but it is really worth practising these skills.
Listen first and then agree if you know it’s valid. Try to curb the childlike tendency to follow up automatically with excessive apology or statement of intent to improve your shortcomings. Sometimes you may be sincere in your apology: at others, it may be enough to let it go. But even if someone takes the trouble to point out to you a fault which (in your eyes) is not that serious or perhaps even a quirk you rather like about yourself, remember the guideline of equality: leave the door open to negotiation.
For example if you are habitually scatter-brained and chaotic, there would be no point in offering profuse apologies. Clearly nothing is going to change. So instead, while you acknowledge this trait as your own, you can, at the same time, genuinely acknowledge that it must be irritating or frustrating for your colleagues or friends. See if you can negotiate as equals. For example, you might say ‘Yes, I know . . . being disorganised is a real problem for me. It must drive you mad. Is there any way we can work around this?’
Invalid criticism brings up a whole new area of difficulty. There are few of us who – at some time in our lives – have not withheld a retort or protest in response to being criticised unfairly. These unspoken protests have an effect as they accumulate and we become extremely sensitive to the relative fairness or unfairness of what is being said.
Throughout my years of teaching, I have become convinced that, over time, failure to challenge unfair criticism has a devastating effect on lowering self-esteem. It often goes back to childhood when we felt unable to protest for fear of making things worse: but even as adults, we continue to keep quiet instead of voicing our disagreement.
In such circumstances, not only do we build up resentment but we also lose the sense of ourselves as an anchor point. When the past mixes with the present, we can hear someone’s criticism and know it to be untrue but then, instead of speaking up, we hesitate and wonder. ‘Was I?’ ‘Did I?’ ‘Maybe he has a point’. Even, for instance, if you’re accused of being mean and you know that, in general, ‘meanness’ is not one of your failings, you’ll probably remember the last two occasions when you failed to be your usual generous self and this will be enough to justify holding back from disputing the comment. In other words, we risk giving more credence to the other person’s perception than our own. This is why it undermines our self-esteem so much: we lose the ability to balance others’ perceptions of ourselves with our own, making us ever more dependent on others’ approval.
If the criticism does not belong to you, you do not have to work hard to try and make it fit! Try saying something like ‘That’s really not true! On the contrary . . . ’ or ‘I don’t accept that at all’. Of course, changing a life-time’s pattern is not easy but you have the skill of self-disclosure at your disposal. This, as always, is the key.
First, if you know immediately that the criticism is wrong, then you can say so: ‘I really must disagree with you’ or ‘you are quite wrong to say that of me’ or ‘that criticism is completely unjustified’. This takes courage and, furthermore, it takes a determined choice not to get into battle with your critic. Your critic has a right to speak their mind: you can challenge the criticism while at the same time treating the other person as an equal. These are some examples:
‘I really must disagree with you. The responsibility for that particular task was not mine but anyway, you’re obviously disappointed so let’s talk it though and find out what happened . . . ’
‘I’m really taken aback. You are quite wrong to say that. I am never disloyal to my friends. What on earth has given you that impression?’
‘That criticism is completely unjustified and hurtful. I put an enormous amount of effort into this evening and was never ‘half-hearted’ as you accuse me of being. Please can we talk about this without you attacking me?’
In each example, the door is left open for the interaction to continue but without declaring war!
A further problem presents itself on those occasions when the criticism is preceded by ‘always’ – or ‘never’ – because we are not sure whether to agree or to disagree. Whether a criticism comes in the form of an outright attack or hidden within a put-down, you may feel there is a grain of truth in it and yet you’re not comfortable agreeing with the whole damning label. For example, you may have been inconsiderate to a friend last Wednesday but this does not mean you are completely selfish; you may have been short-tempered with your child going to school but you are not always grumpy; you choose not to go to the pub with your colleagues but this does not mean you are antisocial.
Responding effectively to a criticism which is partly true means agreeing with the partial truth while refuting the label. Sorting out the particular from the general helps you to feel more equal in relation to criticism. In other words, instead of being caught out and defensive, you can start to listen to what is being said, sift through it, see what is true, partly true or not true at all.
Put-downs One final dimension of criticism is how to handle put-downs which are made trickier by their very nature: instead of a direct comment or label for you to focus on, put-downs are very slippery. The criticism is implicit rather than explicit and comes in the form of veiled comments, innuendoes, pauses in speech, gestures or even facial expressions. You sense something unpleasant but cannot put your finger on exactly what.
The time lapse already described between emotional reaction and response is very pertinent to the delay in reaction to hearing a put-down. Perhaps you do not register at the time but then wake up in the middle of the night, thinking ‘What the hell did she mean?’ Even if you do register that you are angry or hurt by a comment and venture to say so, you’re met with retorts of ‘You’re imagining it’, or ‘Why do you have to take everything so seriously/personally?’ or ‘The trouble with you is you’ve got no sense of humour!’
These comments end up effectively as double put-downs. They hook into secret anxieties that you really are over-sensitive, that your feelings are bizarre, that you are over-serious and that you do not have the intelligence to hear what you hear or see what you see. In other words it’s your fault! Often in a class, participants are invited to contribute to a put-down parade: this has the effect of enabli
ng people to see that they are not imagining things and they can draw reassurance and support from other to establish that they are not simply neurotic or paranoid.
Some people recommend that the best way to deal with putdowns is by a clever and cutting remark that will instantly demolish the speaker. Although there are some very brilliant and amusing examples often quoted and re-quoted, not all of us have that talent. I also believe that encouraging women to cap one put-down with another is more competitive than assertive so is less relevant in this context.
Using self-disclosure as the starting point, you can voice your feeling without accusation: this is the most effective way of holding your ground. Then whether you have a sense of humour or not, whether you are hyper-sensitive or not, even whether you are right or wrong ceases to matter. Start with your own response: if you (psychologically) keep your feet on the ground, you can ask the person for more clarity or to stop this behaviour if it is offensive or unkind.
Ingrid was German and had lived and worked in England for over ten years. During a meeting at work, she made a proposal about a particular project and this prompted a comment from one of her colleagues, Gary, who quietly but audibly muttered ‘Ve haf vays of making you talk’ in a mock German accent. At the time Ingrid said nothing: she didn’t know how to respond. Racist comments of any kind tap into a vast reservoir of feeling from individual and collective experience and it easily feels too ‘big’ to deal with. In a training session, she asked to practise a way of handling it.
First she had to identify what she felt. In the practice role-play, she said she couldn’t really believe what she was hearing: she had been so shocked. She tried out her new response ‘I don’t believe you said that, I feel really shocked’ but then didn’t know how to continue from there: in a group meeting, there would be an air of embarrassment and awkwardness and the one thing to avoid was getting into a fight in public with her colleague. This meant learning how to defuse the situation. She tried a second time: