Author: Pawel Brodzinski

  • Why Burn-up Chart Is Better Than Burn-down Chart

    The other day I was in the middle of discussion about visuals a team was going to use in a new project. When we came to the point of tracking completion of the project I advised a burn-up chart and intended to move on. The thing that stopped me was the question I was asked: why burn-up and not burn-down?

    Burn-down Chart

    First, some basics. Burn-down chart is an old idea I’ve learnt from Scrum. It is a simple graph showing amount of work on a vertical and timeline on a horizontal axis. As time progresses we keep track how much work is still not done. The goal is to hit the ground. The steepness of the curve can help us approximate when it’s going to happen or, in other words, when we’re going to be done with the whole work.

    When we think about quantifying work it should be anything we use anyway – story points, weighted T-shirt sizes, simple number of tasks or what have you.

    Burn-up Chart

    Burn-up chart’s mechanics is basically the same. The only difference is that instead of tracking how much work is left to be done, we track how much work we’ve completed, so the curve is going up, not down.

    The Difference

    OK, considering these two work almost identically, what’s the difference? Personally, I don’t buy all the crap like “associations of the word burn-down are bad.” We learned not to be afraid of failure and we can’t deal with a simple word? Give me a break.

    The real difference is visible when the scope changes. If we suddenly realize we have more work to do burn-down may look like this.

    Unfortunately, it can also look differently if we happen to be (un)lucky enough to complete some work at the same time when we learn about additional work.

    It becomes even trickier when the scope decreases.

    Have we just completed something or has a client cancelled that feature which we talked about yesterday? Not to mention that approximating the finish of work becomes more difficult.

    At the same time, burn-up chart makes it all perfectly visible as progress is tracked independently on scope change.

    You can see scope changes in both directions, as well as real progress. And this is exactly why choosing burn-up over burn-down should be no brainer.

  • Refactoring: Value or Waste?

    Almost every time I’m talking about measuring how much time we spend on value-adding tasks, a.k.a. value, and non-value-adding stuff, a.k.a. waste, someone brings an example of refactoring. Should it be considered value, as while we refactor we basically improve code, or rather waste, as it’s just cleaning after mess we introduced in code in the first place and the activity itself doesn’t add new value to a customer.

    It seems the question bothers others as well, as this thread comes back in Twitter discussions repeatedly. Some time ago it was launched by Al Shalloway with his quick classification of refactoring:

    The three types of refactoring are: to simplify, to fix, and to extend design.

    By the way, if you want to read a longer version, here’s the full post.

    Obviously, such an invitation to discuss value and waste couldn’t have been ignored. Stephen Parry shared an opinion:

    One is value, and two are waste. Maybe all three are waste? Not sure.

    Not a very strong one, isn’t it? Actually, this is where I’d like to pick it up. Stephen’s conclusion defines the whole problem: “not sure.” For me deciding whether refactoring is or is not value-adding is very contextual. Let me give you a few examples:

    1. You build your code according to TDD and the old pattern: red, green, refactor. Basically refactoring is an inherent part of your code building effort. Can it be waste then?
    2. You change an old part of a bigger system and have little idea what is happening in code there, as it’s not state-of-the-art type of software. You start with refactoring the whole thing so you actually know what you’re doing while changing it. Does it add value to a client?
    3. You make a quick fix to code and, as you go, you refactor all parts you touch to improve them, maybe you even fix something along the way. At the same time you know you could have applied just a quick and dirty fix and the task would be done too. How to account such work?
    4. Your client orders refactoring of a part of a system you work on. Functionality isn’t supposed to be changed at all. It’s just the client suppose the system will be better after all, whatever it means exactly. They pay for it so it must have some value, doesn’t it?

    As you see there are many layers which you may consider. One is when refactoring is done – whether it’s an integral part of development or not. Another is whether it improves anything that can be perceived by a client, e.g. fixing something. Then, we can ask does the client consider it valuable for themselves? And of course the same question can be asked to the guys maintaining software – lower cost of maintenance or fewer future bugs can also be considered valuable, even when the client isn’t really aware of it.

    To make it even more interesting, there’s another advice how to account refactoring. David Anderson points us to Donald Reinertsen:

    Donald Reinertsen would define valuable activity as discovery of new (useful) information.

    From this perspective if I learn new, useful information during refactoring, e.g. how this darn code works, it adds value. The question is: for whom? I mean, I’ll definitely know more about this very system, but does the client gets anything of any value thanks to this?

    If you are with me by this point you already know that there’s no clear answer which helps to decide whether refactoring should be considered value or waste. Does it mean that you shouldn’t try sorting this out in your team? Well, not exactly.

    Something you definitely need if you want to measure value and waste in your team (because you do refactor, don’t you?) is a clear guidance for the team: which kind of refactoring is treated in which way. In other words, it doesn’t matter whether you think that all refactoring is waste, all is value or anything in between; you want the whole team to understand value and waste in the same way. Otherwise don’t even bother with measuring it as your data will be incoherent and useless.

    This guidance is even more important because at the end of the day, as Tobias Mayer advises:

    The person responsible for doing the actual work should decide

    The problem is that sometimes the person responsible for doing the actual work can look at things quite differently than their colleague or the rest of the team. I know people who’d see a lot value in refactoring the whole system, a.k.a. rewriting from scratch, only because they allegedly know better how to write the whole thing.

    The guidance that often helps me to decide is answering the question:

    Could we get it right in the first place? If so then fixing it now is likely waste.

    Actually, a better question might start with “should we…” although the way of thinking is similar. Yes, I know it is very subjective and prone to individual interpretations, yet surprisingly often it helps to sort our different edge cases.

    An example: Oh, our system has performance problems. Is fixing it value or waste? Well, if we knew the expected workload and failed to deliver software handling it, we screwed this one up. We could have done better and we should have done better, thus fixing it will be waste. On the other hand the workload may exceed the initial plans or whatever we agreed with the client, so knowing what we knew back then performance was good. In this case improving it will be value.

    By the way: using such an approach means accounting most of refactoring as waste, because most of the time we could have, and should have, done better. And this is aligned with my thinking about refactoring, value and waste.

    Anyway, as the problem is pretty open-ended, feel invited to join the discussion.

  • Code Better or Code Less?

    An interesting discussion (that might have happened):

    I would rather students apply their effort to writing better code than to writing better comments.

    ~ Bob Martin

    But…

    I would rather students apply their efforts to writing less code than writing “better” code.

    ~ Bob Marshall

    Because…

    There is nothing so useless as doing efficiently that which should not be done at all.

    ~ Peter Drucker

    Having read this, one realization is that better code often means less code. I don’t think about lines of code exactly, or something similarly stupid, but in terms of meaningful code. However, argument for less code isn’t about making code as compact as possible, avoid redundancy, etc.

    The argument is about not writing code at all whenever reasonable or possible.

    Should we focus on deciding what should and what should not built instead of polishing our software development craft then?

    Yes and no.

    Yeah, I know. Exactly the kind of answer you expected, isn’t it? Anyway, you can’t answer this question meaningfully without a context.

    Better code

    One perspective is the one of a developer. The developer in almost every medium-to-big organization, and in quite a lot of small ones too, is pretty much disconnected with product management/product ownership part of a project. It means that they have very little-to-no knowledge what actually should be built.

    Of course being a developer I can, and should, share my concerns about usefulness of building specific features but it’s unlikely I have enough information to judge such situations correctly in many cases. By the way, even when I’m right and this darn feature shouldn’t be built odds are that it’ll be built anyway because a client says so. Sounds stupid? Sure, it does! Does it make the client change their minds? Not very often.

    If you’ve ever worked on one of those big contracts where everything is (allegedly) specified upfront and no one on a client’s side is willing to change anything because of internal politics, you exactly know what I’m talking about. If you haven’t, well, damn you, you lucky bastard.

    So it might be a great idea not to build a feature but developers either don’t have enough knowledge to be aware of the fact or aren’t allowed to skip the feature anyway. In this case a better thing to do is to focus on building better code, not less code, because one can hardly say what meaningful less is.

    Less code

    The other perspective is the one of product management folks, however this specific role is called in your org. For them, their first and main focus should be on building less code. Yes, product owners, product managers, etc. Yes, less code. And yes, I do know they don’t write code. It still should be their main goal.

    You see, this is the place where meaningful decisions about not building features can be made. Product folks should know what adds value and what doesn’t. What’s more, they are usually better suited to start such discussions with clients, whenever needed. After all, it is so common that clients want, and pay for, unnecessary features and useless code.

    Organizational-wise you get more value, or less waste, focusing on building less code. Given that you’re free to work on both: better code and less code across the organization, it would likely be wiser to choose the latter. At the same time efficiency of your efforts depends much on the part of the organization you work with and, locally, it may be a much better choice to focus quality of code and not quantity of code as an issue to tackle.

    So if I could choose what kind of superhero posters are in rooms of my people I’d go with Peter Drucker for product folks and Bob Martin for developers.

  • Kanban Coaching Professional

    Frequent visitors might have noticed a new banner on the sidebar of the blog that says “Kanban Coaching Professional.” It might come as a surprise that I’ve decided to join the Kanban Coaching Professional program. After all, I used the word certifiction (no typo here) repeatedly, shared my concerns about the idea of certifying anything around Kanban and even showed my hatred to any certification at all. And now, I jump on KCP bandwagon.

    Why, oh why?

    Well, I must admit I like a couple things in the approach David Anderson and Lean Kanban University have chosen in the program. Peer review is one. To get through the process and become a Kanban Coaching Professional, you need to talk with folks who know the stuff.

    On one hand it sounds sort of sectarian – we won’t let you in unless we like you. On the other, it is just a good old recommendation process. I trust Mike Burrows so I trust people who Mike trusts, etc. This way the title means something more than just a participation trophy. Also, the seed people who will be running the decision-making process are very decent.

    There is a risk of leaving some people behind – those who are not active members of the Kanban community but are otherwise knowledgeable and smart folks. Well, I really do hope it won’t become some sort of coven who doesn’t let fresh blood in. It definitely is a risk Lean Kanban University should pay close attention to.

    Another thing I like is that there’s been an option to be grandfathered into the program. By the way, otherwise I wouldn’t be a part of this. I just don’t feel like attending a course just to be approved. That’s just not my way of doing things.

    I prefer to write and speak regularly about Kanban, showing that I do and know the stuff, instead of attending the course. Yeah, this is a hard way but it’s just the way I prefer. With such an attitude, there’s no way I’m going to be CSM, but it seems the Kanban community has some appreciation for non-standard cases such as myself.

    Actually, I hope this option will be kept open. I mean I can imagine great people with an attitude similar to mine – willing to get their hands dirty (and prove it) – but not really willing to attend the course.

    Because, when we are on the course, I’m not a fan of this requirement. I understand it is there for a reason and, to be honest, I don’t think I have a better idea for now, but I have the comfort of standing at the sideline and saying “I don’t like it.”

    I guess it is supposed to be a business, so there needs to be a way of making money out of it. For the time being though, not the business which I’m a part of.

    However, the simple reason that I could, and rather easily, become a Kanban Coaching Professional isn’t why I decided to give it a go. After all you still need pay some money for this, so we’re back to the question: “Why?”

    As Kanban gets more and more popular, I see more people jumping on this bandwagon, offering training, coaching and what have you. The problem is that sometimes I know these people and I’m rather scared that they are teaching Kanban.

    Not that I want to forbid anyone to teach Kanban, but I believe we arrived to the point where we need a distinction. The distinction between people who invest their time to keep in touch with the community, attend events, share experience, engage discussions, etc. and those who just add a Kanban course to their wide training portfolio because, well, people want to buy this crap.

    This is exactly why I decided to get enrolled in the KCP program. For this very distinction.

    I believe that, at least for now, it differentiates people who you’d like to hire to help you with Kanban from those who you can’t really tell anything about. This is where I see the biggest value of KCP. I really do hope it will stay this way.

    Unless the situation changes the banner will hang there on the sidebar and I will use KCP title as a confirmation of my experience and knowledge about Kanban. Sounded a bit pompous, didn’t it? Anyway, if you look for help with Kanban, pay attention to these banners or KCP titles.

  • Is a ScrumMaster of Any Value?

    Tobias Mayer, who I respect very much, recently put his thoughts about ScrumMasters into a blog post. The post that can be summarized best by its title: Delete [ScrumMasters]. The strongest point of the post goes as follows:

    “I believe the concept of ScrumMaster has done more damage to our industry than it has aided in change. It has been a way for individuals and organizations to jump on the Agile band wagon, in a mostly painless way (discounting severe certification costs) and continue to do much as they were doing before.”

    It isn’t a surprise for me that the post gained a lot of traction. Many experienced leaders in our community have quickly supported Tobias’ crusade.

    I haven’t.

    I agree with vast majority of what Tobias has written. I like the diagnosis he makes. I even believe we should be told such things by our thought-leaders. Yet I don’t jump on the bandwagon of spreading the epiphany: we don’t need ScrumMasters anymore.

    One of stories that instantly pops into my head whenever I hear about the role of ScrumMaster is the one John Cieslik-Bridgen, who used to be a ScrumMaster at Lunar Logic, shared with me once:

    “We were doing a “design your ideal team” exercise. In this exercise, I liked the fact that I wasn’t referred to as a ScrumMaster, rather ‘a John’, as in, “we’ll need ‘a John’”. I think the use of the word “coach” much better reflects what I try to do.”

    On a side note: I’d love to have “a John” as a title on my business card someday. After all, many teams need a John.

    By this point you may wonder, which part of Tobias’ post I haven’t understood, as the story is totally aligned with the article. Well, I have understood the post. John’s story, however, is just one side of the coin.

    The other is that few organizations are mature enough to hire, or promote, a John. Conversely, many companies lose their Johns, these great coaches and counselors, because they don’t have a named place for them. What’s more, organizations often need some kind of framework to even allow a role of a John. This framework very often happens to be Scrum and the role is called ScrumMaster.

    I don’t say it is a magic pill that solves every problem in an organization. I just say this step is often very helpful in moving to the next level for both the org and for a John.

    And yes, I can think of other, arguably better, means to an end of organizational and personal improvement, but I find this one working surprisingly often. To quote Tobias once more: “Sorry guys, it’s what I see.”

    I actually see much value if a John blossoms and eventually leaves the organization because it just scratches the surface and doesn’t really introduce agile values. At the end of the day we still have one more great guy on the job market.

    While I agree with the argument that the ScrumMaster role is often abused and I don’t really like how it is defined, I still consider it one of the valuable options for organizations. The option that may end in preservation of status quo, but also in creating a space for people who will take the org to the next level.

    Does it mean we should throw away the role as a whole? Well, in mature organizations, where there is a good understanding of the reasons that ScrumMasters were introduced and what they are supposed to do, I see no reason to cultivate the role or the title.

    On the other hand I still see the ScrumMaster role as a tool that can create space for change agents (I hate this name too) and catalyze improvements. After all, would there be a John without a ScrumMaster first?

    Have I just written a post in defense of the ScrumMaster role? Oh well…

  • Don’t Ask For Permission

    “It’s easier to ask forgiveness than it is to get permission.”

    ~ Grace Hopper

    As a leader of more than a hundred people I often get asked questions that I don’t really know how to answer. Well, I probably could answer pretty easily, although I don’t think “who, the hell, even asks such questions” or “maybe I could come up with some random piece of advice if you really need one” are really the type of answers they are looking for.

    On such occasions my default answer is Grace Hopper’s famous quotation.

    Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a fan of total anarchy. I do appreciate some order and asking for permission is an integral part of most of orders I know, if not all of them. However, when in doubt just take the advice from Grace Hopper.

    You may wonder whether this approach backfires on me sometimes. Oh yes, it does. I guarantee you this. Not very often, but pretty regularly. On such occasions, for a brief moment I wish that guy had asked what to do and had not simply done as he liked. But then I realize how much of a bottleneck I’d be with this attitude.

    Heck, not only would I be a bottleneck but also I’d restrain many of the great initiatives my teams pursue. I would tell them over and over again how much they’re begging for failure. Or even better – I’d keep them from failing. Except, eventually, they don’t fail. Damn those guys, they just don’t want to fail even though I predicted that.

    Actually, even when they fail, it is still better. After all, a failure is the best teacher and, as a bonus, I can use my clairvoyant hat: “Told you, but you wouldn’t listen.”

    When you think about it, the worst thing which can happen is that you might need to explain to a few very important guys why your team did what they did. And believe me, it doesn’t happen very often. It’s a pretty low price for all the great initiatives people pursue, the results they achieve, and the culture you all help to create.

    On a side note: when we are on the subject of culture, it probably is a cultural thing, but I find it interesting that we actually need to encourage people to go beyond hierarchies, procedures and rules. Otherwise many of them are naturally inclined to preserve the status quo.

    Status quo is likely nothing you’d like to preserve.

    So next time you have any doubts, just do the goddamn thing and ask for forgiveness. If you even need to do this after the fact, that is.

    Yes, I am well aware that quite a bunch of people from my team are going to read it.

    Yes, I know that some of them will take the advice to heart.

    Yes, I am pretty sure that they will use it in a way that (on occasions) will kick me in my butt. Hard.

    And yes, I am still happy with that. This is a tiny price for what I get in exchange.

    After all, if your butt isn’t kicked at all, you’re likely failing as a leader.

  • Local Optimizations Aren’t (Always) Evil

    A message that we hear over and over again is that we should optimize the whole and not the parts as local optimizations often (arguably always) result in making the whole operate less efficiently.

    I don’t want to bring up such stupid examples as counting lines of code (Want some? Here it goes!) or counting bugs (Whoa! On this screen there are several glitches. Why don’t I submit dozen tickets?). Listen to John Seddon’s stories for some less obvious examples.

    So let’s assume that we should focus on optimizing the whole.

    Now, tell this to this line manager who works for a couple thousand-employee organization. How the heck can this poor guy leading five people optimize the whole? Most likely he can’t. Well, of course he may, and should, fight his way up there to make his managers aware of problems he sees and help them to convince their managers, who need to get through to their managers, etc. A couple years later someone, finally, tells the CEO that she has a problem, so she makes the right decisions to optimize the whole.

    Except it doesn’t work this way. Most likely the message is ignored on one level or another. It’s actually pretty common that it doesn’t get through past the first level of a hierarchy. So we’re back to square one: our poor leader can’t optimize the whole. He neither has the visibility nor the power to do so.

    Should he fall back and sit silent?

    Hell no!

    He should make a goddamn paradise out of his tiny slice of the organization. He should optimize locally to the point where his team is the most effective team on the planet Earth.

    And yes, I am pretty much aware that many of these optimizations mean suboptimizing the whole. Actually, that’s perfect. Yup, I’ve just said it: that’s perfect. It means the guy’s manager needs to act. Set some boundaries or constraints. Point out how the manager harms the rest of the org. Otherwise the boss is just accepting the fact that the overall performance of his teams will drop. Of course he will still have this rock star team, but I guess you don’t get much praise for having a star player and, at the same time, seeing your team relegated to a lower league.

    There’s another nice side effect of the situation. These local optimizations, as long as they’re reasonable, are likely to virally spread throughout the organization. It means that the change starts affecting more than just a single team or even a division. It starts changing the whole org. For better or for worse. The role of senior managers is to funnel these changes into the right direction.

    After all, when our line manager changes the part of the organization which he can comprehend isn’t it optimizing the whole from his perspective?

    So roll up your sleeves and make your part of the company the best freaking team/division/what have you in the freaking world. Make your boss think how to set you constraints in a way that it doesn’t result in suboptimization of the whole.

  • Splitting Huge Tasks

    On occasions I deal with an issue small enough that it barely deserves a full-blown blog post, yet it is hard to pack it into 140 characters of a tweet. However, when I’m advising on such an issue for yet another time it is a clear signal that sharing an idea how to deal with it might be useful. So, following an experimentation mindset, I’m going to try short posts addressing this kind of issues and see how they are received.

    One of pretty common problems is with splitting tasks. For example a typical task for a team can take something between 4 hours and a couple of days. And then, there is this gargantuan task that takes 3 months. Actually, 3 months, 5 days and 3 hours. It is, however, quite a coherent work item. Basing on merits it does make sense to treat it as a single task.

    On a side note: for whatever reasons it happens more often in non-software development teams.

    The problem is, it heavily affects any metrics you may gather. Sometimes it affects metrics to the point when analyzing them doesn’t make much sense anymore. If you include this huge task in your metrics they all go mad. If you don’t, you basically hide the fact that a part of the team was working on something that isn’t accounted at all. So the question is: should you accept it and move on or do something with the task?

    I’m not orthodox but I’d rather split the task to smaller ones. Usually this is the point when new issues raise – for example the task can be split but for pieces so small that measuring them separately adds way too much hassle. An alternative can be grouping these tiny pieces into batches of a size that does make sense for the team.

    Anyway, I’d still go with splitting the task, even if division is artificial to some point. The knowledge you gain from metrics is worth the effort.

    In short: when in doubt – split.

  • Radar Charts and Maturity of Kanban Implementations

    One of outcomes of Hakan Forss’ session on depth of Kanban practices at the Kanban Leadership Retreat was the use of radar charts to show the maturity of a Kanban implementation. The whole discussion started with the realization that different teams adopt Kanban practices in different orders, thus we need a tool to assess them somehow.

    Radar charts, or spider charts, seem to be good tools for visualizing how well a team is doing. However, when you start using them, interesting things pop up.

    Coming Up with Results

    First, how exactly do you tell how mature an adoption of a specific practice is? How far are we on a scale from 0 to 5 with visualization? Why? What about limiting work in progress? Etc.

    One of my teams decided to describe 0 as “doing nothing” and max as “where we think we would like to be.” With such an approach, a radar chart can be treated as a motivational poster – it shows exactly how much we still should do with our Kanban implementation. It also means that the team aims at a moving target – as time passes they will likely improve and thus set more ambitious goals.

    There is also a drawback to this approach. Such an assessment is very subjective and very prone to gaps in knowledge. If I think that everything there is to be done about WIP limits is to set those numbers in each column on the board and avoid violating them, I will easily hit the max on the “limiting WIP” axis. Then of course I’ll award myself the Optimist of the Week and Ignorant of the Month prizes, but that’s another story.

    On a side note: I pretty much expect that someone is going to come up with some kind of a poll with a bunch of questions that do the job for you and tell you how far you are with each practice. And, similarly to the Nokia Test, I think it will be a very mixed blessing with negatives outweighing positives.

    Finding Common Results

    The second issue is about gathering collective knowledge from a team. People will likely differ in their judgment – one would say that visualization is really mature, while the other will state that there’s lot more to be done in there.

    The obvious strategy is to discuss the areas where the differences are the biggest. However, it’s not a fancy flavor of planning poker so, for heaven’s sake, don’t try to make everyone agree on the same number. It is subjective after all.

    One more interesting trick that can be done is putting all the results on a single radar chart with min and max values creating the borders of an area. This area will tell you how your Kanban implementation is perceived.

    With such a graph not only do you want to have this bagel spread as far as possible but also to have it as thin as possible. The latter may be even a more important goal in closer perspective as a wide spread of results means that team members understand the tool they use very differently.

    Comparing Results between Teams

    The third issue pops up when you compare graphs created by different teams. Let’s assume you have both issues above solved already and you have some kind of consistent way of judging maturity of Kanban practices. It is still very likely that different teams will follow different paths to Kanban adoption, thus their charts will differ. After all this is what launched the whole discussion in the first place.

    It means, however, that you may draw very interesting conclusions from comparing the results of different teams. You don’t try to say which team is better and which needs more work. You actually launch discussions on how people are doing things and why they think they are good (or bad) at them. You enable collaborative learning.

    As a bonus you can see patterns on a higher level. For example, people across the organization are doing pretty well with visualization, have very mixed outcomes in terms of managing flow and are not that good when it comes to limiting WIP. It can help you focus on specific areas with your coaching and training effort.

    Besides, it is funny to see how a personal kanban maturity radar chart can look like.

    To summarize, radar charts are nice visuals to show you where you are with your Kanban adoption, but they may, and should, be used as a communication enabler and a learning catalyst.

  • Feedback Culture

    This is a rant. I’m sorry.

    We have our mouths full of feedback. We are eager to get feedback on our work. We consider sharing feedback as a crucial part of the work of any leader. Feedback this. Feedback that.

    Yeah, that’s all true. Except we’re missing one part.

    When it comes to leaving our comfort zones, we instantly start sucking at sharing feedback. We suck big time. You don’t like how our folks from PR team dealt with a recent initiative, right? After all you are just telling me that. So why won’t you just go and tell them? Brilliant, isn’t it?

    It’s pretty easy, you know. You use your mouth to construct these things called words and you build sentences out of words. And then the magic happens – you can transmit the message using sentences. Voila!

    That’s easy. Really. Just remember to be honest. Share the message in a straightforward way. Don’t judge. You will manage. I believe in you.

    Don’t get me wrong. I’m not freaking out over a single situation. I see this as a pattern. Actually, whenever I see any questions regarding feedback my default answer is “honest and straightforward.” The problem is this answer doesn’t seem to very popular. Actually beating around the bush or simply “don’t tell anything” types of answers seems to be the standard behavior for many.

    So why, oh why, are you surprised that you don’t get much quality feedback? After all you too are contributing to building this sick organization that is just afraid to share any. It’s simple – if no one shares feedback no one receives it either. It doesn’t populate like freaking lemmings or something.

    And while we are on this topic, well, it’s not only how you (don’t) share feedback; it’s also how you receive it. Next time someone wants to share something critical about you or your work, try this: STFU and listen. The other person has just moved their butt out of their comfort zone to tell you something they think is important. The least you shall do is to let them do their part. But you should do better – listen and try to learn something from it. A simple “thank you” seems proper too.

    You may even disagree with the merits of the feedback but it isn’t some kind of odd negotiation or something. No one is trying to win this discussion with you. No one is attacking you. So spare me the drama and don’t get all defensive. It neither helps you nor the other guy.

    Most of all, it definitely does nothing good to the feedback culture you may try to introduce into your organization. Not to mention building trust.

    If you really want to build an open feedback culture in your company, start sharing and stop being a jerk, I mean defensive, when you receive feedback. If your organization doesn’t appreciate this, think again whether it is the right organization to be with.

    Now that you asked, yes, such an attitude means that you become vulnerable in front of your superiors, peers and colleagues. And yes, it is a crucial part of building trust. I don’t know how it is in your case but I wouldn’t like to work for an organization that is incapable of building trust. Would you?