Why negativity bias makes it hard to be a positive role model
Since people pay more attention to your negative examples than the positive, it is hard to be a good role model. Suppose you are trying to create more empowerment. Your people will watch you to see if you mean it, and if you really will change your behavior. But if your people are four times as likely to notice the times you relapse to old behaviors than to notice those times when you genuinely are more empowering, you need to be at 80% consistency before people even register that you are doing it half the time. That role-model math is daunting and feels unfair.
Once you understand the negativity bias, however, you can see an opportunity. Every time you stop a bad habit, it counts for four compared to starting some new positive behavior. The high-leverage move when trying to improve your leadership is to identify a pain point you create for others and to stop it. Let’s say one behavior you have that undermines empowerment is offering unsolicited advice to people who work for you. So, stop it! Changing bad habits is hard, but so is building good ones. The thing is that, because people notice your bad habits more than your good ones, changing those bad habits is four times more powerful.
Negativity bias shapes how we process feedback.
When it comes to giving and receiving feedback, our understanding of the negativity bias explains why the so-called “sandwich” model – the advice that you should give positive feedback, then negative, then positive again – doesn’t work. When you receive positive feedback from a sandwich leader, your mind shifts to anticipate the negative message to come next rather than listening to the feedback about what you are doing well so you can do more of it. Then you get negative feedback and are even less able to hear the repeated positive feedback that follows. All feedback should be given with positive intent, so let’s use the labels ‘reinforcing’ and ‘corrective’ feedback rather than positive and negative.
Reinforcing feedback needs space. Corrective feedback needs context.
This means that, if you want the positive message to land, put space between it and corrective feedback. “I was impressed with how you handled that customer today. They were being unreasonable. You listened and showed them respect while holding firm on our offer.” After offering that reinforcing feedback, make sure that whatever you say next doesn’t start with the word but. Resist the perverse tendency to imagine that right then is the perfect time to balance things out by giving some corrective feedback. “But you dominated our side of the negotiation and should have given your people more airtime to build their credibility in the customer’s eyes.” Save it. If you share that second bit of feedback now, it will drown out the positive. If you wait until tomorrow, the person will be able to hear and internalize both your reinforcing and corrective messages.
The negativity bias can lead us to exaggerate just how negative the feedback we receive is.
Suppose you tell me I dominated our side of the negotiation. I subconsciously multiply the strength of your words by four and hear that you see me as domineering and trying to steal the limelight. But that is neither what you say, nor what you mean. To prevent this misunderstanding, and to make sure your words are heard at the volume you intend, not louder, you may remind me how well I am doing overall and how effectively you see me leading my team (only, of course, if this is true) to help me set in context your specific feedback about my behavior in that meeting.
Negativity bias and our love of (resisting) change.
As human beings, we are hard-wired to explore, challenge ourselves, and seek change. There is a word in almost every language that describes how we feel when there is not enough change in our lives; when every day is just like the others. In English, that word is “bored.” We don’t like to feel bored. The only good thing about boredom is that it is so uncomfortable that it can prompt us to find creative ways to escape it.
Social psychologist Timothy Wilson and colleagues designed an ingenious experiment to show that many of us would rather experience pain than boredom. The experimenters left participants alone for 15 minutes in a lab room in which they could push a button and shock themselves if they wanted to. The results? 67% of men and 25% of women chose to inflict an electric shock on themselves rather than just sit there quietly and think. So, why does it feel so obvious that people don’t want change? Most of the time we don’t expect people to say, “A new management structure? Great! I was bored with the old one.” So, what’s going on?
It is not change per se that we resist. It is the pain of change. And many, maybe most, changes in organizations have uncertain outcomes. You ask me to change, but I am not sure if the outcome will be good for me or the organization. And where there is uncertainty, what do we fill it with? Positive hopes? Well, some. But, also with four times as many negative expectations. That’s why we resist: it is easier for us to see how change might make things worse than how it might make things better.
What does this mean for us as leaders who are trying to create change? It means we shouldn’t be surprised by the negative reactions we get from our people. It means they are human, just like you. You need to give them some time, just like it probably took you some time to come to terms with the necessity of the change. If you try too hard to sell the benefits of the change right away, you are likely to be disappointed that people aren’t yet ready to hear you. Let them grieve; let them vent. Then you can come back after and talk about how you can make it work and what the positive aspects might be.