A friend sent me a link to the 2006 short film Validation, a 16-minute parable that wraps a conventional boy-meets-girl story around a novel idea: A parking lot attendant re-interprets his job description and rather than just stamp customers' tickets he truly validates them with heartfelt positive feedback. People respond so avidly that the line for validation stretches out of the parking lot. The attendant embarks on a global effort to spread the love, and widespread happiness ensues…except in his own life, because he can't win over the (improbably beautiful) driver's license photographer at the local DMV. He tries, fails, eventually succeeds. The End.
"Validation" did make me smile, as expected, and it also made me think. Validation is central to my work as a coach, and what the film gets right is how hungry we all are for it. But what the film gets wrong is that, despite this hunger, validation makes most of us feel very uncomfortable. We don't stand in line to get it–we run away from it. These two responses are interrelated, of course: We resist validation so much precisely because we want it so badly. The depth of that desire makes us incredibly vulnerable–so much so that we're willing to avoid any validation in order to insure that we're never embarrassed by our hunger for it or–even worse–by falling prey to inauthentic validation from manipulators or phonies. When we say we want candid feedback, we typically expect that it's going to be hard to hear criticism–and it can be–but it can be even harder to hear (and truly acknowledge) real praise.
I belong to a group of 12 people that meets for an evening once each month. We're all current or former facilitators in Stanford's Interpersonal Dynamics class (aka "Touchy Feely"), and most of us are professionally involved in helping people grow and develop in one way or another. We began last month's session with an exercise that involved one person volunteering, and then the rest of the group speaking up and sharing affirmative words or phrases that came to mind as we reflected on that person. In the abstract it sounds so simple and easy as to be meaningless–but in person it was surprisingly difficult.
I found the idea stimulating, and I volunteered to go second. And it was rewarding, at first. People said things like "direct," "genuine," "savvy," "loving," and "loyal," and that felt great to hear. But I soon grew so uncomfortable my palms began to sweat, and I actually felt embarrassed. Bear in mind that I was sitting comfortably with a handful of people I know well and trust implicitly. I honestly appreciated everything they said, and the whole process probably took less than 2 minutes. But even in those circumstances, I almost couldn't bear to be validated; it's no wonder that we usually find the experience practically traumatic.
I don't have a pat answer to this dilemma–it's been nearly 5 years since I first wrote about the problem with positive feedback, and it's still an issue I wrestle with, both personally and in my work with clients and students. But I have learned that our refusal to accept validation, like all resistance, should invite our curiosity, not our collusion.
It's also noteworthy to me that had I asked the group to stop when I began to feel uncomfortable, I would have missed out on the most meaningful piece of feedback I got: One of the very last things someone said to describe me was "walks the talk." I can't think of any higher praise than that, and I feel a little surge of pride just remembering it. I also feel myself pulling back from sharing it here, as though I were boasting–but I'm not going to collude with that feeling. I do try to walk my talk, and while I certainly don't always succeed, it means a lot to know that I succeed often enough that people take notice.
Postscript: My friend and colleague Inbal Demri-Shaham, who led the exercise described above, was thoughtful enough to write down the list of words and phrases the group shared with each person. I brought my list home and put it up on the fridge, like a kid's report card. And, like a kid, I felt both proud and sheepish showing it to my wife the next morning. She enjoyed reading it, until she came to "savvy," which she mis-read as "sexy." "Sexy? What the hell???"
4 Responses
I saw that video shortly after it came out and used it in one of my own posts. It is a great reminder that validation can have a huge impact on our attitude and approach to things.
I may be arguing a distinction without a difference but in my mind when I hear the word “validation” – it isn’t about the terms that define me or describe me… it’s about being told that my presence made a difference. While we often we tell people they are nice, cute, smart – which is all wonderful… at the end of the day what we really, really want to know is – did we make a difference being there?
In my mind validation is about being told you are valuable. If people were to say things like – “Ed made the session more engaging.” Or… “Having Ed in the session brought out deeper thinking and conversation.” That is validation.
Your presence made a difference. That is what makes people want to engage and be a part of things. Compliments are nice – but real validation – knowing that you actually made a difference and made a contribution. That is the real key … again – my opinion.
Funny… at this time of year and with this whole discussion, it gets me thinking of the movie “It’s A Wonderful Life” – that whole movie was about making an impact – being validated.
Thanks, Paul, and I agree that there’s a distinction to be made between validation and compliments, which I conveniently ignored in this post. I see validation as a subjective feeling we may have in response to all sorts of stimuli, while a compliment is an objective description of a type of comment made to us. Some compliments do truly validate us, while others don’t have that impact–perhaps because they’re superficial, or we distrust the speaker, or the setting just isn’t right. And the corollary is that validation can come from many sources, perhaps most importantly from our own internal sense of self-worth.
And I think the gradation you make between between mere compliments that generate “warm fuzzies” and more meaningful feedback that confirms our value is really important. It’s why one of the skills we focus on developing in our students at Stanford is truly powerful positive feedback–which sounds deceptively simple until you understand the difference between compliments and validation.
Warm fuzzies are wonderful, and they’re important, and we don’t get enough of them. But they’re also insufficient, because we need to be validated, to have our worth affirmed. And yet–to my point above–that need leaves us feeling deeply vulnerable, so we go to great lengths to ignore it, disguise it and get it met in other ways.
The thoughts, feelings and judgments you’ve shared here strike many chords with me.
I feel very vulnerable in my want (need?) to be validated by others, and am grateful for your willingness to be so candid about your own struggle with this issue.
I am much more willing to acknowledge that other people are valuable, regardless of [my judgment of] their contributions. When it comes to my self, I typically judge that I am only worthy or valid[atable] if my contributions exceed some threshold (which varies based on the context).
I have not yet watched Validation, but its premise reminds me of a perpetually inspiring prose poem by Oriah Mountain Dreamer, Prelude, that opens her 2001 book, The Dance: Moving to the Rhythms of Your True Self, which starts off with the following 3 verses:
Thanks, Joe–I certainly empathize with your point that we deem ourselves worthy only when our contributions exceed a certain threshold. And while I still wrestle with that attitude at times, I also find myself able to let go of it, to simply say, “Hey, I’m worthy–no matter what I ‘contribute.'” I’m not saying I live that credo at all times, but I’ve seen progress 🙂
And I appreciate the challenge inherent in the verses you quote–I think it’s central to the work I do as a coach. Thanks again.