“I just want them to take responsibility” Navigating tough feedback moments

_{Photo by Raychel Sanner on Unsplash}

“I just want them to take responsibility,” she said. “But every time I try to give feedback, someone gets into a strop and I end up picking up the pieces.”

We’d been talking about her team—good people, mostly—but somehow the work kept falling back on her and two other colleagues. She wasn’t afraid of hard work. What she found difficult was voicing what wasn’t working. Naming the patterns. Giving feedback that wouldn’t spark conflict or awkwardness.

We started by clarifying what actually needed to be said. Coaching prompts like: What am I tolerating? What’s the cost—personally and for the team—of not speaking up? helped her sift through what mattered. It wasn’t about being dramatic. It was about saying the thing that needed to be said, before resentment did it for her.

I shared Jefferson Fisher’s principles, which are straightforward and deceptively powerful. Focus on the behaviour, not the person. Use “I” statements. Give context—explain how one person’s actions affect the rest of the team. Let silence do its job. Thinking of Jefferson’s invitation, I think, she doesn’t have to like giving feedback, but she needs to be open to practise getting more comfortable with it.

We explored how she might be contributing to the pattern. Not to place blame, but to understand the dynamic. Sometimes, in the name of being helpful, we quietly enable others to opt out. She realised she often stepped in too quickly because she wanted harmony, but it was creating long-term strain and in the end she and others in her team would carry the load of others.

We played with language. Tried out soft but direct openings. Things like: “There’s something I want to talk to you about, and I want to be clear and respectful.” Or: “I value your contribution—and I also need…” and just sat with it. How did it feel for us?

We played with the idea that feedback does not have to be seen as confrontation, but as boundary-setting. As leadership.

Books like Thanks for the Feedback (Stone & Heen), Radical Candor (Kim Scott), and Marcus Buckingham’s work (for example “Why Feedback Fails”) challenge a lot of our assumptions. Feedback isn’t just about what’s said. It’s about what’s heard. How we feel. It’s shaped by identity, trust, and the stories we bring.

From Thanks for the Feedback, we discussed the three types of feedback: appreciation, coaching, and evaluation. These often get muddled. Coaching can sound like criticism if you’re bracing for judgment. Add to that our triggers—truth, relationship, and identity—and no wonder feedback feels hard.

But when you shift the question from “Is this right?” to “Is this useful?”, something softens. You start to look for the 10% of truth, even in feedback you disagree with. And you can ask for better feedback, too. Be specific about what you want them to hear. Separate evaluation from coaching if it feels overwhelming. Shape the conversation, don’t just survive it. And set boundaries and give context. Sometimes even just sharing how long this meeting (where the uncomfortable feedback is given) will last can help that a conversation doesn’t escalate.

We imagined what might happen when the person pushes back — arms crossed, tone sharp — it was tempting to defend the feedback or back off entirely. Instead, we had a go at staying grounded and played with Jefferson’s de-escalating phrases (you can watch the video here): “I agree tasks can get overwhelming.” It didn’t mean we had to agree with their version of events — just the universal truth that work can get challenging Then: “I’ve learned this really matters to you.” That helps for the other person to feel seen, not steamrolled. And finally: “That’s helpful to know.” Not sarcastic, not dismissive — just a calm way of keeping the door open. These phrases didn’t sugar-coat the message. They lowered the heat so the actual issue could stay in focus.

Feedback sits at the intersection of two very human needs: to learn and grow, and to be accepted as we are.

And that’s why it’s so hard.

But it’s also why it matters.

And there’s so much we can learn.