Providing feedback is an art.
I think most of us in the academic and greater writing and research world know that feedback is critical to good work. That’s what peer review is for, after all. Collaboration is a part of good scholarship, and good writing as a whole. After slaving away at a paper or a manuscript for who knows how long, we simply won’t be able to see the work objectively. Outside eyes are a must, and editing is, obviously, also a crucial part of this process.
Most of us, though, have had bad experiences with feedback at some point in our careers. Whether we had a particularly vindictive advisor or harsh Reviewer 2, it can be uniquely demoralizing to hear our hard work shredded to ribbons. I suspect even the most thick-skinned among us knows that feeling. And if you’re sensitive to criticism, like me, you definitely know what I’m talking about. Fear of being crushed by harsh feedback is a completely understandable fear, and very likely comes from past experience.
I hesitate to simply say “fear of feedback,” because the fear isn’t that of feedback. I think many academics think that they’re afraid of feedback, and there’s a great deal shame living alongside that. But rest assured: you are not afraid of feedback. You’re afraid of having your hard work misunderstood, and maybe even insulted or demeaned. Maybe even publicly. Academic writing is vulnerable, and an enormous amount of work. Of course harshly worded, bad faith critique hurts.
So what’s the difference between good and bad feedback? This is NOT about feedback that tells you your work is perfect when it’s not, but rather feedback that is constructive and collaborative over feedback that is unhelpful and rude. It IS POSSIBLE to offer constructive critique without being rude about it (we do not support equating “nice” and “never ever disagreeing or delivering bad news” in this house).
Good feedback:
1) Engages with your work in good faith. This is a basic must.
2) Doesn’t merely tear down, but offers suggestions for improvement.
3) Notes strengths as well as points of weakness.
4) Is appropriate to the goals and stage of the draft.
5) Is able to recognize its own limits (say when an editor or reviewer isn’t familiar with a term or field).
This all goes for edits, too. A good editor takes all these things into account, and works with you, as a collaborator. Our job is to help you, not to tear you down. Any editor who is doing this out of a desire to be on a constant power trip is bad at their job (and a pretty lousy human being).
Furthermore, notice how I said nothing about insulting the writer? If there is EVER even a whiff of insult or condescension in a piece of feedback, my hot take is that absolutely none of that feedback is worth listening to. Do not take feedback from someone who does not basically respect you and your work. Everything they have to say will be clouded by that bias, and therefore everything is suspect. If this is the case, then you have my full professional permission to throw their opinion out.
Not everyone wants feedback to be “nice,” and that’s not what I’m saying. No one, including folks who want straight-shooting, rigorous edits or comments, deserves to have their work shredded. That’s useless and a waste of time (how’s that for straight-shooting? Hah). Sure, one’s ego may be bruised, but you should never receive an edit, for example, back, and feel devastation. All feedback should result in the author having a clearer sense of where to go with their next draft and a better idea of what their strengths and weaknesses are in that particular piece of work.
You do not need to dread having other people read your work. A GOOD advisor, colleague, or editor (maybe not a peer reviewer but…) WANTS to see how you think, and WANTS to help you say what you want to say. Let’s take the meanness out of it, hm? Let the nasties on their power trips be and focus on devoting our emotional energy to the good stuff (collaboration, exchange of ideas, and excellent scholarship).