Where Should the Line Be Drawn?
I’ve often wondered to myself: what makes a critical comment hurt? Where is the line drawn between a productive, structured analysis, and scattered derision?
To different people, that line lies in different places. In a lot of ways, this doesn’t matter too much, as some people are much more used to critical environments, and therefore very armored. Others are not used to such environments, and intentionally stay out of them. Where conflict occurs is where the instructor (or average evaluator) uses a different form of evaluation than the recipient is receptive to.
In college-level classes, review and analysis happen frequently. I’ve found many times before that many people are not prepared to critique—by that, I mean sensitively evaluate—when asked to. Notice, I don’t say “nicely,” as I believe it is a disservice to only address the best parts of whatever someone is working on doing. Instead, critiques should be done “sensitively,” as in, with feelings of the other party in mind.
At the Interlochen Center for the Arts’ summer camp, I took classes on creative writing. A writing class can be a breeding ground for harsh analysis, enough to make someone question their ability. This is the nature of many art classes.
I was lucky enough to grow accustomed to critique, and eventually the comments didn’t hurt my feelings at all. I’m not disparaging art classes (I wouldn’t still be writing if that was the case), but I am interested in providing tips for critiquing that I’ve gained over five years of being in writing classes, as well as some other arts, in hopes that people can preserve their classmates’ feelings while improving their work in these classes.
The first step, which I learned quickly, is to get rid of anonymity. If you’re in a class where everyone is supposed to cordially critique each other, why should anyone need to shield themselves? This is different from anonymously grading a rubric; I’m talking about fully writing out a critique of someone else’s work, especially if it is not graded.
Placing the condition of anonymity into a critique is somewhat like telling people “I’m sanctioning you to say whatever you want, nice or not, and no one has to know it’s you saying it!” In a setup like this, a weak performance can become targeted, and in art classes it is often the weaker performers that are the least armored against distasteful comments. Does that mean I think they’re a lost cause and should be babied? Of course not! If anything, they deserve extra help to get them where they need to be. Extra help, however, doesn’t mean “extra hard tough love.”
Step two is structure. Many times during a workshop, I’ve received comments such as: “maybe change this,” “I’m confused,” and, even more ambiguous, “?” In response, I would make only minimal changes, if any, to these vague comments.
Imagine writing an essay about a science experiment where you separated the hydrogen and oxygen from water and tested which vial in the experiment contained which element. Now, imagine someone peer reviews it, and they circle a paragraph and write a question mark. You’d probably think, “what here is unclear? What don’t they understand? The process? The result? Do they know the properties of hydrogen and oxygen? Or is the question mark due to something as simple as a grammar mistake?” Pretty soon, your brain would be a traffic jam of questions, and you’d know that the confusion would easily be fixable if the commenter had gotten straight to the point.
To prevent this from happening, take a moment to think about a product before you comment on it. Delve deep into the recesses of your mind and come up with concise words to explain your thought.
In addition, as it should go without saying, don’t make comments such as “I don’t like this,” as well as comments that try to get into the presenter’s head, such as “you clearly didn’t think this through” or “you didn’t practice this enough.” Instead, simply state that you were confused at X point for Y reason. Pinning the blame on yourself, though it feels self-deprecatory, motivates someone to fix their work for you.
Finally, the third step is backing up your critique with at least one positive comment. I’m a firm believer in the notion that keeping people’s confidence high will increase their productivity. Even if you feel like you might be stretching, find an attribute to compliment; for example: “I like the passion you express in your argument” or “I admire your writing style.”
Do not let personal creeds get in the way of your evaluation. Don’t tell someone that shares your beliefs that you approve of their grammar usage, but drown a paper of equal merit in pen ink because the writer opposes your opinions. As painful as it may be, it’s a very unhelpful and arrogant thing to do. Besides, only pointing out flaws in someone’s product diminishes their self-esteem. As a result, they may be unmotivated to put further work into their product or to apply your suggestions to future projects.
When people dread reviewing or being reviewed by someone, it’s often due to the fear of harsh, spirit-crushing criticism (which is a very realistic fear). My hope is, by keeping these nuggets of advice in mind, you can pleasantly surprise someone with a very successful critique.
