From the Archives: Call Your Work a Draft to Accept Criticism More Easily

From 2005 to 2015, I had a blog where I wrote about anything and everything. From time to time, I like to go back to my old blog archives and see if there are any posts that are relevant for our Orange Hat blog. Here’s a post originally published on June 7, 2012. 

Earlier this week, I enjoyed reading this post on Lifehacker.com about how to take and learn from criticism rather than letting it get you down. [Today, I use the term notes instead of criticism. In this post, I use the term criticism to mean critical review, rather than anything degrading.] In a field like academia, the ability to take criticism and use it to improve your work is key. [When I wrote this initial post, I was heading into my fifth and final year in graduate school.] Indeed, one might accurately characterize the whole field as a long series of ego blows interrupted with a few boosts. But one tip that I’ve found useful didn’t make the list linked above, so as I prepare to defend my dissertation proposal, I thought I’d share a useful way to prepare yourself, in advance, for criticism.

This tip has everything to do with how we think of our work. Criticism is the most difficult to take when we feel our work is already at its zenith. If we can think of no more ways to improve our work, then naturally any criticism suggests either we don’t know quality or someone is trying to tear us down unjustifiably. Neither will encourage us to embrace the feedback and make improvements.

But what if we simply call our work “in progress” or a “draft”? In this case, feedback is quite natural and useful. After all, it’s just a draft, not the final product. A draft is a version that has met our high standards but not our highest standards yet. And if we believe that our work can only meet our highest standards after a thorough review from someone else, then our work must remain a draft until we have received feedback. This causes our attitude to shift from dreading criticism to welcoming it.

Not all work must fall under the draft category. When I write a blog post, for example, most are published before anyone else reads what I have written. Thus, based on the definition above, I publish a lot of drafts. For me, I don’t need these posts to reach my highest standards. I’m happy to publish with only a cursory review for typos.

But for a lot of my work, I do want it to be the best it can be. So when my [graduate school] advisor [Lyn Van Swol] hands me back comments on a paper, I try to remember that what she reviewed was just a draft. It was as good as it could be without her feedback and will achieve its highest form after I have addressed her review. As long as the goal of improvement is strong enough, as it is for papers with high stakes, then calling something a draft motivates us to welcome criticism.

I carry this out by naming my files as “draft.” [Later, I also started using the watermark feature in Word to put “DRAFT” on every page.] It seems like a small change, but this little shift helps me think of my work differently. One added benefit is that I can work faster, not worrying about perfection because I’m only working on a draft. So if you (like everyone) sometimes feel uncomfortable and nervous about getting feedback on your work, try this method. Of course I still feel nervous even after turning in a draft; I joked with Lauren [my now wife, then girlfriend] that my advisor was going to respond to my proposal by writing, “Good one! Now send me your REAL proposal.” But when it comes time to look over her feedback, I know that my best work will come about after (and because) she has given me her critique.