One of the fundamental aspects of human behavior appears to be our tendency to seek earnest feedback from those closest to us—provided, of course, that the feedback is consistently affirmative and free from any unpleasant truths. We gravitate towards validation through both direct inquiries (“Is this what you wanted?”) and more indirect methods (“I’m not very skilled at this, so I hope it meets your expectations.”). We occasionally pose leading questions (“Does this shirt make my stomach look fat?”) and craft our remarks in ways that encourage reactions (“Ugh, this shirt is not flattering at all.”). We subtly entice the approval we desperately desire (“I’ll only buy this shirt if it flatters my figure.”). We often say “Be honest,” when our actual intent is “Just assure me that I’m alright.”
When asked to give those candid evaluations regarding a loved one, partner, co-worker, barista, barber, or bartender, we hit a mental block, our minds racing through a labyrinth of psychological influences and quick choices. Should I be truthful? Am I able to be honest? Will they take what I say too personally? Could my words hurt them?
In summary, receiving feedback feels challenging. When critiques are negative, we often dismiss them, deny their validity, or spend excessive time articulating why they might be unjust or biased. Conversely, when feedback is positive, we envelop ourselves in it, comforted by the affirmation of our self-image. It’s an inherently complicated scenario. Therefore, when SUCCESS requested that I undergo a 360-degree feedback assessment from friends, family, and colleagues, I likely agreed without fully considering the implications.
What is a 360 review?
Regardless of the objectives or financial aspirations that your organization is pursuing, the morale and well-being of the workforce will play a crucial role in either enabling progress or hindering it. This underscores the importance of human factors, necessitating frequent assessment and reflection. Such evaluations, without exaggeration, have been universally disliked throughout history.
For a time, performance reviews were the standard method of evaluating employees. This typically involved a trip to your supervisor’s office, and with any luck, you would emerge after an awkward 45 minutes with a favorable review, a few vague areas for improvement, and perhaps a salary increase that merely kept pace with inflation. However, in the 1990s, a new method, the notably named 360-Degree Performance Review, became prevalent. This approach gathers feedback from a wide array of individuals, including colleagues, supervisors, vendors, and clients—essentially anyone with whom you interact regularly.
Before now, I had never undergone a 360-degree review—honestly, I was barely aware of their existence. Since 2011, I’ve been active in the YouEconomy as a freelance writer, usually exempt from professional evaluations of any sort. So, I did what any motivated reporter would do: I reached out to my Facebook network for insights, and they overwhelmingly reported that 360 reviews were somewhat unpleasant.
‘It’s more of a feedback mechanism’
Understandably, I was filled with apprehension in the lead-up to my own evaluation. However, duty called, and I needed to discover how to facilitate my assessment. To accomplish this, I contacted FH Solutions Group, recognized as “a leading national labor relations consulting firm,” as their site described, where former COO Brad Federman indicated that this method is commonly utilized for coaching or career development.
“It’s more about gathering feedback than issuing a formal review,” he noted. “It’s not solely about whether you met a target; it’s geared more towards personal development.”
The company crafted a survey and distributed it to a dozen of my relatives, friends, and colleagues, including my wife, who has never been as enthusiastic about any of my assignments before. They assured that the responses would remain anonymous, although it was clear I would analyze each reply meticulously to deduce authorship, ready for any necessary retribution.
Aware of this tendency, Federman offered some sage advice. “You must place 360 reviews in context and exercise caution in how you interpret them,” he advised. “When you receive feedback, don’t accept it as absolute, nor should you dismiss it outright.”
Despite this wisdom, some of my friends were excessively eager to evaluate me up front.
“You invited the crocodile to your pool party,” commented my friend Liz, though we’ll see if she remains on friendly terms with me by the time this is published.
Completing my own 360 review
Yet before I could review the insights my (potentially soon-to-be-ex) friends provided, I had to accomplish one key task: assess myself. This is not a practice I engage in regularly, if ever. My self-evaluation began innocently enough, with inquiries related to productivity and objectives. However, it soon trended into more sensitive matters, probing how I “remain composed in challenging situations” and “exercise emotional restraint.”
Here, I halted, coffee cup raised, staring at the screen, as though grappling with emotional stability myself, mulling over what my wife had chosen, what Liz might have said, what my editors would think, and whether the cool front I had crafted over 40 years was genuinely in place. Without warning, the questions became more probing: On a scale from one to five, does he accept accountability for his actions? Is he amiable to work alongside? Does he collaborate well? All I could think was, I truly have no clue. Do I motivate others? Have I ever assigned tasks? Do I inspire anyone while seated in this café, crafting jokes and overshooting word limits? Who am I?
In a flash, the reality of having subjected myself to a numerical, high school Scantron-test-style evaluation of my existence came sharply into focus. This was real, people were expected to be forthright with me, and I was to be honest with myself. I took a meaningful sip of my beverage and continued onto the final screen of the 360 review survey, which in three questions left me stunned:
- “What should this person continue doing?”
- “What should this person cease doing?”
- “What should this person initiate doing?”
Answering the difficult questions
I gazed blankly at this screen for an entire half-hour, the exasperated cursor blinking, urging me to take action. I had no idea where to start. My thoughts raced through the list of participants I had enlisted to assist, contemplating whether they had ever paused to reflect on these matters before—about me or themselves. The time I spend on this form of self-analysis, apart from assignments for this magazine, is what HR types call zero. My frantic pace of work and life, driven by a blend of professional necessity and inherent disposition, offers little room for such contemplation. However, I realized one thing: My reluctance to ever see what others had penned about me rivaled my eagerness to read it now. So here’s how I fulfilled my end of this experience:
1. “What should this person continue doing?”
Valuing family above all else, followed by work. Sustaining a consistent and productive work rhythm. Endeavoring daily to improve as a partner and parent. Writing. Scheduling vacations.
2. “What should this person cease doing?”
Taking matters too personally. Sacrificing quality for speed. Assuming he possesses all knowledge. Mistaking quickness for excellence. Wasting moments in unfounded comparisons. Committing to projects that yield little long-term value.
3. “What should this person initiate doing?”
Focusing on fewer initiatives. Targeting larger-scale projects. Setting specific goals and striving to achieve them. Experimenting with different writing styles. Setting aside the phone during the evening. Cultivating empathy. Reading more. Increasing physical activity. Taking additional breaks. Spending less time on to-do lists and more on execution. Writing a book.
The results of my 360 review
A few weeks later, on an otherwise delightful Friday, Federman called me at home. I quickly closed the door to my office and steeled myself for disappointing news. Part of F&H’s 360-degree feedback process entailed guiding me through the results to help dissect the data. Here’s what we uncovered.
The good
First, the encouraging news: Feedback from my mostly-friends (even Liz) was predominantly positive, enough for me to temporarily set aside my fascination with the darker aspects of existence. Generally speaking—aside from a few anomalies—I rated myself similarly to how others rated me. More importantly, the consistency of their responses indicated that my friends, colleagues, and editors largely shared a unified viewpoint of me.
Notable highlights: My peers held me in higher regard than I did, particularly regarding my collaboration skills, decision-making capability, and, surprisingly, my ability to influence others. Interestingly, there was a noticeable discrepancy regarding my capacity to make challenging decisions, as some rated me a five while others scored me at 2.5 or three. Unexpectedly, I rated myself average in achievement and organizational skills, while my peers were significantly more generous.
“You might be overly critical of yourself, always feeling like you could perform better,” Federman remarked, “but they’re saying, ‘Look, we know a lot of individuals in this field, and you’re doing pretty well.’” So, that was nice to hear.
The bad
Alright, wonderful, let’s move on to what I was voraciously scanning for: the negatives. In the category of “stays calm under pressure,” I awarded myself a generous five. However, my peers averaged a 3.89, showcasing a significant gap between my self-perception and theirs. That definitely stung. In terms of assisting others, my self-assessment again earned me a five, while others were closer to four or even lower.
The most considerable discrepancies between my self-image and others’ views surfaced in how I interact with people. “As a writer, especially in a freelance capacity, your role is primarily as an individual contributor,” Federman explained. “What emerged here aligns with your current career path. However, if you aspire to shift that dynamic, consider adopting a mentoring or leadership role. There are areas in your approach worth addressing.”
I once held the position of editor-in-chief at Hilton Head Monthly, where I realized I could be overly controlling, a tendency these reviews highlighted. Essentially, this evaluation, serving as a proxy for some of my nearest friends and kin, sent a clear message: Prioritize thinking about others. While I believed my five-star self-rating reflected that, others saw it differently.
The essence of this feedback revolved around those three vital inquiries: What should this individual keep, cease, and start doing? True to their assurances, the replies were anonymous, and despite my declared intent for retribution, I found it challenging to pinpoint who said what, save for one comment: “At some point, you must cut back on those Jimmy Buffett concerts.” I ignored Tim’s guidance without a second thought.
The takeaways from my 360 review
Aside from that, a few insights resonated strongly. Initially, one remark pointedly noted, “He listens to music that feels antiquated and silly, making him seem older than he already is.” That assessment was spot on. Another said: “Perhaps try structuring articles differently—explore something unconventional. I think he could benefit from expanding his creative boundaries.” If I’m being honest, that’s the kind of advice I craved.
Ultimately, the three key takeaways from this experience, penned by an unknown author, all rang true, were affirming, and are thoughts I’ve kept at the forefront of my mind in recent months:
“He tends to rush to judgment.”
“He can become finicky about details, which occasionally complicates collaboration.”
“While he often listens well and collaborates effectively in challenging situations, he tends to make rigid decisions and sticks to them strictly, even on matters that may not truly warrant such definitiveness.”
When I impulsively consented to this journey a few months back, I secretly hoped to receive a healthy dose of affirmation—yes, I’m a decent writer, I cooperate well with others, I uphold excellent dental care, I can hold my own in Mario Kart, etc. (My wife jested that I even selected my group of evaluators to maximize positive feedback, which was only partially accurate.)
In the end, as with any experience, the most valuable insights were the challenging ones. I came to a clear conclusion: I indeed judge too quickly. I stubbornly cling to pointless disagreements. I’m not as pleasant to be around as I might have presumed—in my professional environment, and even in my everyday interactions. Thus, I’ve compiled my feedback—both the favorable and the unfavorable—into a document on my desktop, accessible for occasional reflection, serving as a reminder of the significant gap between who I am and who I believe I am. I’m uncertain if this process is effective; maybe I’ll need to undergo another 360-degree evaluation to find out. But it certainly feels worthwhile to make the effort.
