Fixing Things When We Mess Up
A few years ago I did something that put my team at serious risk, threatening our entire future — despite a supervisee warning me I shouldn’t. I dismissed their warnings and plowed ahead. We ultimately survived, but when all was said and done, I had some cleaning up to do.
Causing harm is part of being human. If I’m the one who caused the harm, it’s on me to start the process of healing and repair. Especially if I have more power.
Here are three “dos” and two “don’ts” for effective healing and repair.
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1. Do: Acknowledge the mistake.
The more specific we can be, the better. In acknowledging my specific mistake, I didn’t just say that I’d messed up; I said exactly *how* I’d messed up.
Be as matter-of-fact as you can (no drama, no “confessions”). In my case, I simply told my colleague that I appreciated that they’d tried to warn me, that I hadn’t listened, and that I could now see it was a mistake.
It might sound easy, but for many leaders it’s anything but. It requires us to be vulnerable, to show that we’re imperfect.
2. Do: Specify the impact of the mistake.
In my last piece, I wrote about focusing on impact over intent. If there’s ever a time to focus on impact, this is it. It’s okay to mention intentions, but *only* to provide context.
With my colleague, I said that my actions had damaged trust between us, and exposed our team to possible long-term damage.
3. Do: Commit to not repeating the mistake.
It’s one thing to say we messed up. It’s another to say specifically what we plan to do differently, so that we don’t mess up the same way again.
My mistake had to do with my extreme tolerance of risk, in contrast to my colleague’s certainty orientation. I had failed to “bridge” to them: to take into account their certainty orientation as I made the decision to move forward.
As part of the repair process, I committed, both to my colleague and to myself, that I would not allow my extreme risk orientation to dictate my actions in the future. I promised I would go beyond just “giving a little” in a one-off way now and again. Instead, I’d try to actually *see* things from a certainty orientation — to make it a part of who I am, to feel it in my body.
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Even if we’re diligent about these three dos, we risk making things worse if we don’t also avoid two big don’ts.
1. Don’t be overly confessional.
When admitting a mistake, sometimes it’s tempting to swing the pendulum too far. We can end up caricaturing the situation as completely, wholly, and irredeemably “my fault.” In the moment it may feel cathartic, but it ends up burdening our colleagues with an emotional load they shouldn’t have to bear. It also puts us at the center, when it’s the other party who bore the impact.
2. Don’t say anything about “feeling bad.”
You’re certainly entitled to feel bad, but those feelings are for *you* to deal with, outside of your relationships with your colleagues — especially those with less power, who might feel pressure to take care of you when you say you feel bad.
This isn’t about our feelings; it’s about the impact of our actions.
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I got lucky: my colleague is a person of exceptional grace and forgiveness. We went on to work well together for many more years. The tension between my risk orientation and their certainty orientation never went away, and actually became a source of strength for our team, helping us manage risk in a more thoughtful and intentional way.
Leaders aren’t taught to openly admit mistakes — which is silly, because making mistakes is what we humans do. Shouldn’t we make sure we have the skills we need for moving forward, strengthening relationships, and getting better at our work?