One of the basic moves a presenter often makes as he finishes up his or her presentation is to hand out the classic feedback form. You know what I’m talking about, because you’ve no doubt filled out dozens of them over the years. What I’m about to tell you is risky, and I know it… but here goes: I am not a fan of most feedback forms.
Now, before I make you question my competence as a professional speaker, or disappoint you at a deeper level, let me explain. It’s not that I don’t value feedback. I am just appalled at a certain question that appears on most of the feedback forms that are typically used. I’m fine with open ended questions about materials, relevance, and the instructor. My biggest gripe comes from this classic question that’s found at the end on most feedback forms: “What are some things that could be improved for next time?”
I know that question probably sounds good to many… who aren’t presenters. Personally, I don’t like that question in any form. To begin with, I don’t believe it’s a fair question. In a sense, you’re pushing an audience to rack their brains to come up with something they didn’t like about a presentation. I don’t recall coming out of an art gallery, or a Broadway show, and being asked that question. I don’t believe an audience needs to be prodded to think of negative things about his or her experience.
What’s wrong with simply placing the word, “Comments” at the end of a feedback form? If someone feels moved to tell you what they enjoyed or didn’t enjoy about a presentation, they’ll tell you.
Another reason why I don’t like encouraging my audiences to work hard to think of things they’d like to see improved is they may not actually understand what giving a presentation entails. How can they be qualified to give improvements? You know who is qualified to analyze a presenter’s delivery? Professionals including other presenters, and the team that works with these presenters. For the record, when I struggled as a presenter in my career, I didn’t fly additional audience members out to see me present; I flew out other professional trainers.
There is one final reason why I don’t like encouraging an audience to provide negative feedback to a trainer or presenter: It has the potential to wound the spirit of the presenter. Show me a presenter who isn’t fazed by negative criticism of his or her performance, and I’ll show you a presenter whom I wouldn’t want working for me. I’m not ashamed to admit that when I’ve had one negative response on a feedback form out of over a hundred received, I’ve had trouble sleeping. I kept trying to figure out who it may have been, and why they reacted the way they did.
It might be interesting to note that when I was a trainer for Xerox, my manager never referred to the forms he was receiving as feedback forms. He called them, “grin sheets.” He once told me, “You can bring me a bunch of 10’s on a grin sheet if you’d like. Do you know how I can determine if you did the job the way I want it done? Tell me how many more sessions are being requested because the audience saw something that truly astonished them.” By the way, I wasn’t thrilled with that response at the time, but once I started running a training company of my own, and had trainers working for me, I not only understood it, I also agreed with it.
We all want the same thing. To put on amazing programs, to learn from our mistakes, and continually improve. Maybe we can meet in the middle a bit here, and agree that feedback is necessary, and there is value in getting feedback from the audience itself. But rather than encouraging negative responses, why don’t we replace those types of questions with others that inquire about what they’ll remember, and what they intend to implement. After all, isn’t that why we typically put on presentations to begin with?