“We need each other to see ourselves and see the impact that we’re having on others”

Sheila Heen (2026)

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Hearing Something We Might Miss

You leave a conversation thinking you have explained yourself well. Later, the other person tells you they struggled to get a word in. You remember trying to be helpful; they remember waiting for a turn. Hearing that can send you back through the conversation, looking for something you missed.

Sheila Heen, a Harvard Law School negotiation teacher, works with the difficulties of receiving feedback. In an April 2026 talk reported by Harvard Law Today, she explored how other people can help us notice effects we do not see ourselves. Hearing them can be uncomfortable, especially when useful information arrives inside a judgment we question.

Asking for an opinion about something you have made brings this difficulty close to home. You want an honest response. You would also quite like the person to love it. Even before they finish speaking, you may find yourself explaining a choice they have barely begun to describe.

In the fictional story that follows, Gabriel brings a photograph to an evening workshop hoping to learn what another participant sees in it. A few minutes into their conversation, he has heard very little about the picture.

The Part He Recognizes

Gabriel lays his print between the water glasses and shifts it away from a damp ring on the table. Across from him, Ellis pulls his chair closer. Around the room, other pairs are studying the photographs they were asked to bring and discussing what catches their attention.

Ellis is in his late twenties and comes to class after work at a garden center. He and Gabriel have talked easily during breaks, comparing places they might like to photograph. Tonight is the first time they have been paired to discuss each other's work.

At fifty-eight, Gabriel is taking his first photography class. He drives a municipal bus, and for years he has watched the light move across the same streets. On his days off, he has begun going back to places he usually passes without stopping. This photograph shows a bakery doorway just before opening, with a delivery worker standing beside a stack of trays.

He likes the worker's posture, one hand resting on the top tray. There is something unhurried about it that he had not expected to find at that hour. He nearly brought a different photograph, then changed his mind while putting on his coat.

“What do you notice?” he asks.

Ellis points toward the upper corner. Before he finishes explaining, Gabriel tells him how low the sun was. Ellis tries again, this time mentioning the doorway, and Gabriel describes the moment the worker looked up.

Ellis takes his hand off the table.

“You asked what I thought, but you've cut me off twice. I don't feel like you want to hear it. Maybe you just wanted me to say it was good.”

Gabriel looks at him. He had been looking forward to this conversation. He thought he was giving Ellis something useful to work with.

Now he wants to explain that too.

The interruptions are easy to remember. He can almost hear himself beginning the second explanation. He had assumed that the circumstances would help Ellis understand what he was looking at. He had not waited to find out whether Ellis needed them.

But just wanted me to say it was good catches at him. He has signed up for a class, brought in work he is unsure about, and asked for an opinion. Surely that counts for something. He starts assembling the evidence that he is willing to learn while Ellis waits on the other side of the print.

It is a familiar turn in a difficult conversation. One sentence seems unfair, and suddenly it occupies all the space. You can remember the exact word you object to while losing track of what happened just before it.

Gabriel could argue about the word just. He could also agree with everything, apologize for being unable to take criticism, and spend the rest of the session quietly embarrassed. Neither response would help him understand why he kept speaking over an answer he had asked to hear.

For the moment, he has something simpler to say.

“I did interrupt you. Twice. I'm sorry.”

Ellis nods, but he does not immediately begin again. Gabriel leaves the silence alone for a few seconds. Then he looks down at the photograph, trying to recall what Ellis had actually managed to say about it.

What the Comment Can Tell Him

Gabriel understands why Ellis stopped trying to answer. Each time he began, Gabriel took the conversation back. Whatever Gabriel intended, Ellis had been left feeling that his opinion was unwelcome.

The suggestion about wanting praise is harder to settle. Ellis has described an action Gabriel remembers and an experience Gabriel needs to hear. He has also offered an explanation for the interruptions. Gabriel can take the first two seriously while considering whether the explanation fits. Wanting Ellis's opinion does not, by itself, tell him why he kept getting in its way.

He remembers watching Ellis's face for a sign of enthusiasm. When Ellis pointed to the bright corner, Gabriel worried that he had overlooked something obvious. The explanation about the sun came quickly because it was something he knew.

He had spent a long time choosing this print. A little reassurance would have been welcome. He imagined them looking at it together, finding something interesting in a place most people passed without noticing. He had given less thought to how it would feel if Ellis's attention went somewhere else.

Gabriel cannot know exactly how much each wish shaped those interruptions. He still thinks he wanted more than praise. Yet his wish to learn had not stopped him from cutting Ellis off. He can let the next observation reach him before deciding whether it needs an explanation.

“I did want your opinion,” he says. “I think I got nervous about what you were going to say.”

He hesitates, then adds, “I was hoping you'd like it.”

Ellis glances at the print. “I hadn't got that far.”

For Gabriel, that is almost worse, and then a little funny. He has been preparing to answer a criticism of the photograph that Ellis has not yet delivered. He smiles, cautiously. Ellis moves his water glass farther away.

Ellis knows what it was like to keep losing his turn. He has less access to what Gabriel hoped for when he brought the print. Gabriel can describe those hopes, but he is still working out how they influenced his behavior. Neither has a complete account, even now that they are talking about it.

Lucivara's principle of Partial View invites attention to these limits. We can ask what another person is well placed to tell us, and where either of us may be guessing. Used honestly, that question also turns toward our own preferred explanation.

There is a temptation to become very exact about someone else's wording while staying vague about our behavior. Gabriel could spend ten minutes explaining why Ellis cannot know his motives. Ellis would still have been interrupted, and the photograph would still be sitting between them, barely discussed.

When a complaint is vague, asking what happened can give both people something concrete to discuss. In Harvard's Program on Negotiation guidance, Heen and Douglas Stone recommend looking for the behavior behind a broad judgment and clarifying the change being sought. Ellis has already named the interruptions. Gabriel knows where he can begin.

Hearing the Rest

“Will you start again?” Gabriel asks. “You were pointing at the corner.”

Ellis puts a finger beside the edge of the print. His eye went first to a bright patch of sign above the doorway. He kept returning to it, even though he thought the worker might be the subject. He wonders what would happen if Gabriel cropped a little from the top.

Gabriel feels another explanation getting ready. The sign belongs to the bakery; the old lettering is part of why he likes the street. He lets Ellis finish describing how his attention moved across the picture.

Then Gabriel looks again. He can see the bright patch. He can also see why removing it might make the worker easier to notice. He is not yet convinced that the tighter picture would be the one he wants.

“I'd like to try the crop,” he says. “I might still keep the sign. I like knowing a bit more about the place.”

“Try both,” Ellis says.

Receiving the comment has given Gabriel an option to explore. He can take Ellis's experience as a viewer seriously and still make his own decision about the photograph. The usefulness of the exchange does not depend on accepting the suggested crop.

The same freedom belongs in many ordinary conversations. A friend may accurately describe a habit that frustrates them while guessing incorrectly about its cause. A colleague may identify a confusing passage in your work and propose a change that creates another problem. You can acknowledge the difficulty and keep thinking about the solution.

Sometimes the account remains disputed. You may remember the conversation differently or need time to check what happened. A response can stay provisional: “I remember that part differently. I want to think about what you've said.” You do not have to manufacture agreement to demonstrate that you listened.

There are also circumstances in which continuing the exchange carries a cost that this workshop scene does not capture. Threats, coercion, or a credible risk of retaliation change what is available. A person may need distance, support, or a private record rather than another conversation. Receiving criticism creates no obligation to remain in an unsafe exchange.

At the workshop, Gabriel still feels a little embarrassed. He is curious about the crop, though, and wants to compare it with the original when he gets home. For now, he turns the print so they can both see it without leaning across the table. They have a few minutes before the group comes back together.

“After the sign,” he asks, “where did your eye go?”

Ellis points toward the worker's hand and begins to explain.

👂 🔍 💬

Practice: Sort the Criticism

Objective: Find what you can use in a manageable criticism while keeping room for your own judgment. Time: 10 minutes. Choose a mild real example or an imagined one; this reflection can remain private.

Write a short account of the comment. Separate the observable action being described, the speaker's reported experience, and any interpretation of your motives or character. Mark what you recognize and what remains uncertain. You can hear someone's experience without treating every explanation attached to it as established.

Consider whether your own account leaves anything out. Identify one feasible change or question that could help. You may decide to respond, take time, or set a limit.

Outcome: Finish with a specific next step and a clear statement of what you are still considering. The exercise does not require you to contact the person or reach a verdict on the whole exchange.


Scientific Summary

Heen's remarks, reported by Reed (2026), and Shonk's (2026) feedback guidance offer practitioner perspectives on learning from criticism. They do not establish that every complaint is accurate or that a particular response will improve a relationship.

Carless and Boud (2018) propose a conceptual framework for student feedback literacy encompassing appreciation of feedback, judgment, emotional responses, and action. The framework concerns learning in higher education. Applying it to a recreational workshop and a personal complaint is an extension made in this essay.

The workshop scene is fictional, and the separation of action, experience, and interpretation is an editorial reflection tool. These sources inform the discussion; they do not validate this particular exercise or establish how Gabriel and Ellis would respond in a real exchange.


References

  • Carless, D., & Boud, D. (2018). The development of student feedback literacy: Enabling uptake of feedback. Assessment & Evaluation in Higher Education, 43(8), 1315–1325. https://doi.org/10.1080/02602938.2018.1463354.

  • Reed, R. (2026, April 22). Why we all need a reality check. Harvard Law Today. Read the article.

  • Shonk, K. (2026, July 1). Learning from feedback without losing your mind. Program on Negotiation at Harvard Law School. Read the article.



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26.296 – Which Part Is Yours?