Any Feedback That Takes More Than 10 Seconds Isn't Feedback
How to say what needs to be said without the performance theater
I just ran a survey for managers and asked: "How good are you at delivering kind, but direct feedback?"
Scale of 1 to 10. Average score they gave themselves? 7.5.
Here's what I want to tell every single one of them: You're delusional. Completely, utterly delusional.
I know because I was delusional about this for years, too.
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The 10-Second Rule
Real feedback takes about 10 seconds to deliver. Maybe 15 if you talk slowly.
If what you're calling "feedback" takes longer than that, it's not feedback. It's a TED talk nobody asked for while someone sits there trapped in a chair.
Think about the last time someone gave you feedback that changed something for you. I bet it was short, specific, and probably caught you a little off guard.
"It's been frustrating to see you interrupt people in meetings. What's going on?"
Ten seconds. Done.
Compare that to the verbal vomit most of us have been trained to spew:
"So, I wanted to talk to you about communication styles and how sometimes in group settings we can inadvertently impact team dynamics. I've noticed some patterns around interrupting that I think might be coming from a good place, maybe you're just enthusiastic, but I wonder if we could explore some strategies for creating more space for others to share their thoughts..."
Forty-five seconds in and you haven't said shit.
Why We Make It So Goddamn Complicated
We've been brainwashed into thinking good feedback requires a dissertation. Setup, context, cushioning, examples, solutions, and a fucking bow on top.
It's all performance theater.
When you take five minutes to say what could be said in five seconds, you're not being thoughtful, you're being selfish. You're managing your discomfort instead of giving them what they need.
And here's what’s worse: while you're tap-dancing around the point, they're sitting there knowing something's wrong but having to guess what the hell you're trying to say.
The longer you talk, the more they tune out. The more they tune out, the angrier you get that they're "not getting it." The angrier you get, the more you talk. It's a death spiral of uselessness.
What We Do Instead of Real Feedback
Most of what we call feedback is just us avoiding reality in three predictable ways:
The Armchair Psychology Hour:
"I think what's happening is you're feeling overwhelmed because you're a perfectionist and that's causing you to procrastinate, which creates more pressure and then you avoid..."
Stop. You're not their therapist. You don't know why they do anything. You barely know why you do what you do.
The Shit Sandwich Special:
"You're doing so many things well, and I really appreciate your dedication, and this is just one tiny thing, but maybe we could think about..."
Stop. They're not made of glass. They can handle reality without you wrapping it in bubble wrap.
The Savior Complex Sermon:
"So what I think we should do is set up a system where you check in with me daily and we create some accountability structures and maybe we get you a coach..."
Stop. Your job is to tell them what you see, not adopt them.
The Three Ingredients (That Actually Work)
Real feedback has three parts, and if you can't fit all three in 10 seconds, you're doing it wrong:
Say how it landed on you.
"It's concerning to see you miss these deadlines..."
Describe what you observed.
"I've noticed you go quiet when we talk about this project."
Shut up and ask.
"How does that land?" or "What's your take?"
That's it: your experience + your observation + their turn to talk.
No theories. No solutions. No emotional hand-holding.
Why 10 Seconds Works (And Why You'll Resist It)
When you keep it short, magic happens:
They hear you. Because they're not sitting there waiting for the other shoe to drop or trying to decode what you mean.
You can't hide behind your stuff. You have to get crystal clear on what happened and how it affected you.
There's space for them to be human. When you stop talking, they can think, feel, and maybe even take ownership!
But here's why you'll resist this: it requires you to be brave. You can't hide behind processes and frameworks, or (worst) practices. You have to show up as a real person saying real things.
And that scares the hell out of most of us.
"But What About Complex Issues?"
"But Jonathan, what if it's complicated? What if there's context? What if they need development?"
That’s your mind playing tricks on you.
The complex issue you think needs a 30-minute conversation? It's usually six months of simple issues you were too afraid to address.
The context you think they need? They were there. They know what happened.
The development they need? Starts with them owning what's happening, not you explaining it to death.
Break it down. What's the one thing, right now, that you could name in 10 seconds?
Start there. Stop making excuses.
The Real Reason We Avoid This (And It's Not What You Think)
Yeah, we're scared they'll have feelings about it. But that's not the biggest problem.
The biggest problem is that work isn't set up for this.
We're conditioned to think feedback requires a formal process. Something you schedule. A meeting with an agenda. Time blocked on calendars. Room reservations. Something that you request once a year in your performance review! Holy cow.
But here's the crazy irony: with our million meetings, there's no "10-second feedback" slot available on Google Calendar.
Even though real feedback is just a tiny human interaction, something that should happen in hallways and doorways and random moments, we've created a world where every conversation needs to be planned, scheduled, and documented.
So what do we do? We wait. We collect examples. We build a case. We schedule a meeting called Quick Chat that everyone knows is going to be anything but that.
By the time we finally sit down to give feedback, it's not feedback anymore. It's a performance review disguised as a conversation.
Meanwhile, the thing that needed to be said in 10 seconds three weeks ago has festered into a 45-minute ordeal, not to mention the multiple hours wasted in backchannel gossip.
What Now (If You've Got the Guts)
Stop waiting for the perfect moment or the right meeting slot.
Real feedback happens in the margins—walking to the elevator, standing by the coffee machine, right after something happens, not three weeks later when you've finally found time to process it or dish about it with a colleague.
Next time something happens that needs addressing, don't put it on your to-do list. Don't schedule a meeting. Just say it.
"It was awkward watching you dominate that client call. Were you nervous?"
"I've been frustrated by your negative attitude in team meetings lately. What's going on?"
"It's concerning how you bulldozed Sarah yesterday. Are you aware you did that?"
Ten seconds, even less. In the moment. Then move on with your day.
The beauty of 10-second feedback is it doesn't need infrastructure. It just needs you, all of us, to stop being so damn formal about basic human communication.
Self-serving P.S. About to unleash a 5-minute feedback smoothie, or get that neck-hair tingle in a meeting? Hit Ren. It’s free for 30 days, and it’ll help you drop truth instead of dead air.
My old job PREACHED 10 second coaching to everyone from the District Managers to the shift leads and it was lovely. Chefs kiss!