Casual Friday: Forcing Yourself to Admit You Messed Up
I was thinking the other day about the idea of fault. Particularly, how quick we are to assign fault to another person or group, because that minimizes our role in whatever problem we’re facing. And I really got to thinking.
There’s a certain liberation in something being your fault. It means three things:
- You are aware of the problem, and
- You can correct it.
- You are the sole variable needing adjustment.
That’s not to say others don’t make mistakes, and sometimes circumstances beyond your control don’t spin in the wrong direction. They do. That’s what we call life, and it happens all the time.
But what wound up as a passing idea turned into a personal thought exercise for me.
Here’s how it went: what if I challenged myself to find my fault in any problem I’m facing? Sure, there are a few in which I have little or no role, but guess what? For the vast majority, I had a one, however small.
Our usual go-to defense is to deflect blame and push it elsewhere, because that’s the traditional playbook on how you defend your turf and reputation. That naturally spirals into a cyclone of finger-pointing, passing around fault (blame) like a hot potato. When it eventually lands somewhere, everyone is relieved – until the next fire drill, when it starts all over again. Fun times.
What if you were challenged to articulate your role – or even possible role – in what went wrong and communicate it to others? What if others did the same? What if everyone did this – officially heralding the Dawn of Bizzaro-World (TM), but bear with me – with any problem? How quickly would the defensive walls break down? How quickly would we get to the root of a matter?
I’m not saying to take a soft, pacifist route and assume blame for others in the name of keeping the peace. Not at all. What I’m suggesting is radical self-reflection as it relates to accountability.
I’ve worked with a guy who, in his own words, would be diagnosed as partially autistic if he were young today. He’s a brilliant guy, incredibly hard working, and slightly socially…rough. Rough in the sense that he doesn’t wear the same social conventions most of us do. The most notable? He’s incapable of playing politics. He has no idea what the blame game is. If he makes a mistake – no matter how minor or insignificant – he calls himself out, seemingly unaware that most folks operate in the opposite fashion. Maybe it’s his creed, maybe it’s the way his mind works, but I can tell you this: it’s disarming.
What does this look like? Pretty interesting, actually. Examples:
- I sold something on ebay and got scammed. The guy’s a thief. It’s his fault. Actually, maybe it’s your fault for not checking the guy’s feedback carefully. If you had, you’d notice he only bought things for $20 and under, and all were out-of-country. You missed the warning signs.
- A bad employee in my company pulled a few others into his circle and now our culture has gone negative. That bad employee is the problem. Actually, it’s your job to protect your culture; it won’t protect itself. You know he’s a bad employee; you just called him such. Why didn’t you nip this in the bud before it gathered speed?
- My girlfriend broke up with me. She ruined everything. I never want to see her again. Actually, you probably had a role in letting the relationship stagnate. Did you? Ask yourself and be honest.
- Somebody was driving aggressively, and you got aggressive with him back, and it devolved into gesturing and yelling things out the window at each other. The dude was a jerk. Why did you get aggressive back? Could you have taken a moment to think about why he was driving like that? Could he be in an emergency? Could he have a sick daughter in his passenger seat and be trying to get to the hospital as fast as possible?
The freedom you gain in doing this exercise is powerful. Even though everything isn’t 100% my fault, the thought exercise of pretending it is made me evaluate my own role in miscommunications and problems. And it turns out that I always have a role in a problem. No matter how small that may be, I’m still a contributor. I’m a cog in the angst machine.
You are too.
Think about it. Then encourage your team members to do the same exercise.
Author A. J. Jacobs has talked about radical honesty. Let’s call this radical accountability.
Have a good weekend, everyone.
