My wife, Anne, founded and leads a highly successful fine art gallery. Her gallery represents about 40 artists whose work is hung in many notable places. Yet, any interest she had in art was almost squelched when she was six years old. Her first-grade teacher, Ms. Caldwell, seemed like she was 100 years old to the children in her class. Every day she wore the big heel, lace up style black high-tops fashionable among older women at the time and the same ankle-length gray dress.

On Friday, the children had art class. Sally Young, clearly the teacher's pet, mastered the sine qua non of first grade art—house with curly gray smoke coming out of the chimney, blue sky, green grass, tree with rounded crest, cute squirrel on a low tree branch, and flowers in front of the house. Sally was most excellent at this traditional style of art.

Anne, a bored rebel, on an impulse began to flick her brush toward the big sheet of paper on the easel in an array of interesting colors and shapes. She was mesmerized when two colors merged to create a third. The dripping runs of paint made her art like no other. The class had a non-representational art prodigy in their midst—Anne was truly a budding Jackson Pollack at six years old. They were in the presence of greatness!

The unfortunate by-product of Anne's creativity was that some paint splattered on the floor. Crotchety Ms. Caldwell was incensed. She interrupted the class and reprimanded Anne in front of all the other students. “Look at the mess Anne has made.” Anne felt such shame that she burst into tears, ran to her desk, and lay her head down sobbing. Lesson learned—play it safe, conform, and be like Sally Young.

Fortunately for other rising students with a creative bent, that was the year Ms. Caldwell retired, but the shame she dispensed so forcefully to Anne still resides in her core and even surfaces occasionally as a painful memory. In fact, brain science offers strong support for the theory that the shame she experienced is still stored in a specific location in her brain, probably even a particular neuron. If only there was a delete key for those kinds of memories.

I've sometimes had an imaginary conversation with Ms. Caldwell, Anne's first grade teacher. It's probably good that I cannot have that conversation, because it would likely go against the grain of much I will say in this book. I would like to ask her if she wants a redo of that conversation about Anne's splattering paint on the floor. How about, “Oh Anne, what a different and creative way to apply paint. I am so proud of you for exploring new ways to make interesting shapes and colors. Class, look at what Anne painted. Isn't this creative?” And then quietly, so none of the other children would hear, “Anne honey, be sure to wet some paper towels and clean up the spattered paint. Your new technique was a little messy, but that's okay. What a wonderful painting you made today!”

Words of Death

An ancient proverb says, “Words can bring death or life!”¹ Like many forces, words contain a duality, and the proverb starkly captures this distinction. In Chapter 2, I introduced the concept of Words of Life. Our words can build a stronger core in those we influence, or our words commensurately contain the power to weaken the core of someone we lead. Even if we possess an emotionally stalwart constitution, our spirit can still be crushed when we are the recipient of withering criticism, ridicule, or shame from an important other, such as a parent, a coach, a teacher, a peer, or a boss.

Our words can build a stronger core in those we influence, or our words commensurately contain the power to weaken the core of someone we lead.

This phenomenon fits with my concern that many managers, as a practical matter, mainly care about accomplishing tasks more so than showing interest in who we are as a person. When we give feedback to a subordinate absent concern about his or her person, we bypass the parts of the person's brain that powers innovation, problem solving, creativity, and self-worth. What's worse, as we will see in this chapter, we engage the part of the brain that shuts out any positive influence we might intend!

Criticism of a person and not an action particularly leads to decreased self-worth of employees. When managers care more about tasks than the needs of the worker, the negative impact is dramatically greater.

A manager's habitual use of criticism (Words of Death) rises to the level of abusive leadership, which leads to extreme negative consequences such as decreased creativity, productivity, and commitment, and increased depression and anxiety. What is worse than abusive criticism? Inconsistent and unpredictable support from a supervisor, because this style even further exaggerates negative outcomes for employees.^20,21,22 The hapless employee is then whipsawed by the constantly changing demeanor of an unpredictable boss. A key to happy and productive employees is a leader's consistently supportive behavior.

While undoubtedly, a critical supervisor intends to improve productivity through his or her negative feedback, the exact opposite occurs.

The Social Workplace

While we would likely consider our families a far more important tribe to which we belong, we still identify strongly with where we work. A lack of social connectedness at work, or anywhere else for that matter, can be devastating. Rejection from the tribe or getting voted off the island is processed in our brains in a similar way to physical pain and can even feel physically painful.²³

Ms. Caldwell's dressing down of Anne was particularly outrageous because she berated her in front of the whole class. It was terrible that she spoke to a six-year-old in the manner she did, but to shame her in front of her peers was unconscionable. When I talk with leaders, I urge them to praise in public and correct in private. My redo for Ms. Caldwell illustrated how this might have gone dramatically better.

Whether intended or not, the recipient of critical feedback hears that it's not what I did, but it's more about who I am.

Social conformity does not activate higher cognitive areas in our brains, but rather activates an “emotional processing center.”²⁴ This brain region controls dopamine release, a very important brain chemical, which facilitates our ability to feel good about our work. This research suggests that being a part of a tribe is very rewarding in and of itself. The important idea for us is that unbridled criticism makes us feel like we've been expelled from the tribe.

This may also be why people are willing to go to such great lengths to fit in. In the famous “Asch Conformity Experiment” (also known as the “longest line” study), participants in a group setting viewed two cards containing vertical lines. The first card contained one vertical line. The second card displayed three vertical lines, labeled A, B, and C. One of the three lines was the same length as the line on the first card, and participants were asked to identify which one. A few of the participants were confederates of the experimenter, and they gave what was obviously the wrong answer. A majority of the other participants then also gave the wrong answer. It was plainly obvious that people wanted so badly to be part of the group, they repeated the wrong answer to the experimenter.

Shame Speaks Words of Death

During the cratering of Anne's painting career, a particularly distressing aspect was that she didn't hear Ms. Caldwell's Words of Death as negative feedback about her style of art or even the fact that there was splattered paint on the floor. Her extreme emotional reaction demonstrated this. What Anne heard was that there was something wrong with her. This is often the source of shame, an even more powerful form of diminishment. Anne risked an unbridled expression of her creativity, departing from the socially accepted first grade norm of what constitutes good art. Creativity and personal risk-taking emerge from the core of who we are. When we are criticized for expressing something from our core, we receive the feedback as an impoverishment of our person. It goes straight to our self-worth.

As we will learn more specifically in Chapter 6, it was perfectly fine for Anne to be asked to take responsibility for cleaning up the splattered paint on the floor. In my imaginary redo, this was accomplished. What was not okay was the shaming and social ostracism that her teacher precipitated through her harsh criticism.

The Worst of All Legacies

Known as the imprinting phenomena, at a critical window in a very young animal's life, whatever it sees first becomes its mother. While in graduate school, a baby chicken imprinted on me and followed me everywhere I went in my back yard! Many times, leaders in various organizations told me that they learned to manage by mimicking their first boss's management style; we learn a lot from the example of those who lead us, particularly early in our careers—we imprint on them. Many CEOs I interviewed for this book stressed that they had very positive role models in the intervening years between when they started work and when they became CEO. In contrast, perhaps the worst consequence of a criticism-oriented manager is the modeling of a critical style to members of the organization with a high potential for future leadership responsibility.

Like a family unit, positivity and negativity are often carried on across generations. A negative leader is more likely to groom negative leaders under his or her charge.²⁵ Considerable risk exists that a follower will perpetuate a management style of criticism and negativity when the boss reflects that style. It is well known that parents who abuse their children often produce adults who abuse their children. Negativity is contagious, so it perpetuates negativity among those over whom we have influence.

We have special “copy-cat cells” in the brain called “mirror neurons,” which fire when we watch someone else's behavior.²⁶ Scientists believe mirroring might be the reason that we can be empathetic toward others. Unlike the mirrors in our homes, these mirrors in our minds travel with us everywhere, even to work! Mirror neurons might also underlie the findings of a recent study showing that peoples' brains automatically show a threat response when they simply think they might receive a shock.

Our moods are contagious, so it's important to reflect upon how our mood might affect others, and how others' moods affect us. We are natural copy-cats. We love to fit in to make others happy, as can be seen via the famous “Bobo Doll Experiment.”

Perhaps the worst consequence of a criticism-oriented manager is the modeling of a critical style to members of the organization with a high potential for future leadership responsibility.

In this experiment, scientists observed that when an authority figure models a behavior, those under his or her influence perpetuate the behavior. Children watching a video of adults abusing a Bobo Doll with punches were much more likely to be aggressive to the Bobo Doll themselves. People truly learn by seeing, so bad behavior begets bad behavior.

Culture significantly influences our leadership behavior. An organizational culture that emphasizes structure, obligations, and punishments for deviant behavior further diminishes followers' creative insight and attention span.

Over the course of working in the corporate world for many years, I have seen countless examples of strong, positive cultures as well as many I would describe as toxic. One of the most toxic cultures I have observed is the “gotcha” style. Managers are expected to catch employees in a departure from rules or other standards. They seem to relish being the one who nails the perpetrator for even the most minor infraction. This fosters a negative, critical, and harsh culture in which people are constantly on edge.

Our personal psychological adjustment constitutes a major force in determining our effectiveness. A leader's poor psychological adjustment often contributes to a harsh and abusive style of leadership. I consulted with a heavy equipment manufacturer in the Midwest for a few years. To use one of my grandmother's homespun diagnoses, the CEO was a “mess.” His emotional volatility intimidated everyone within shouting distance. His terminal case of certainty, despite mountains of evidence to the contrary, governed his leadership style. He was virtually un-coachable. I firmly believe the only reason people worked in his company was because he paid people well above market for their positions. Most of his senior team were one good offer from moving to another company.

The CEO asked me to help vet the talent at senior levels. At my urging, the CEO involved employees from several levels of the organization to help vet candidates for a new vice president of marketing. I recommended a process in which the five employees conducted a panel interview, and I gave them a few tips on how they could best work together to learn about the candidate. The panel ended up really liking one candidate and really disliking the other. During the debrief session, it became obvious that the CEO felt exactly the opposite from the panel regarding who was the stronger candidate. He told the panel very forcefully, “You're wrong!” The panel's enthusiasm and commitment to help vet the candidates dissipated immediately only to be replaced with anger and frustration at the CEO's harsh criticism. Several weeks later, when new information surfaced, it became obvious that the panel was exactly right about the two candidates!

Can a Leader's Fundamental Style Change to Become Less Critical?

I am often surprised when businesses tolerate abusive managers. Unfortunately, if they get results, they often get a pass for how they treat people. If enough people complain to HR, then that can tip the scales, but their behavior must be egregious.

What I'm about to say would be a source of disagreement among many experts. When a company asks me to work with an abusive manager to help him or her change their management style, I'm usually very reluctant to take on that assignment. The likelihood of success is very small, and offering a manager help may be more about assuaging the guilt of those making the ultimate firing decision. “Well, we tried to help Sam, but it's just in his DNA to treat people harshly. He'll never change.”

Sometimes, these managers have a better chance of making it somewhere else, because their negative personal brand is too established in the organization. It is a psychological and financial benefit for companies to monitor and often remove abusive supervisors for the health and well-being of employees. I recommend a no-tolerance policy on abusive supervision.

The big question we ask from this chapter is if you can't criticize someone and tell them what's wrong, how can that person improve and get better? What's a great leader to do when members of his or her organization are not in alignment with the values, mission, goals, standards, and processes of the organization? How to correct poor performance is the subject of Chapter 6. There is a better way!

Join My Crusade

One of the phrases that we've heard all our lives is constructive criticism. What it usually means is that I'm going to gut you emotionally, but my motives are positive. There is usually nothing constructive about it and telling us in advance puts us on hyper alert. I've never heard of even one example where criticism was constructive. Have you?

Perhaps you've been looking for a cause to join. This is it. I propose a worldwide ban on the phrase constructive criticism. You can sign the petition on my website: www.drtimirwin.com. People of the world unite—eradicate the term constructive criticism!