Tuesday, February 28, 2017

The Culture Map and international feedback

I recently read Erin Meyer's The Culture Map, a fascinating look at how various global cultures handle similar business situations in different ways. Meyer consults with firms to help them sort out challenges that stem from cross-national teams or clients. While I'm not a businessperson, it's absolutely relevant to my study-abroad experiences and my work in missions/nonprofits. It's an easy read but rich in food for thought and conversation. A few points were review for me, such as linear versus flexible time scheduling, but I was surprised by how much of the content I'd never seen in other books on culture.


Meyer's basic premise is that a spectrum exists for eight scales, such as Trusting, Scheduling, and Disagreeing. For example, on the Evaluating scale, the spectrum ranges from valuing direct negative feedback to indirect negative feedback. Every culture is filled with individuals on a sort of bell curve for each scale, but the mid-point of each culture's bell curve, what's considered "normal" in that culture, will fall in a specific place on the scale. 

In evaluation, cultures like Russia, Israel, and France tend to practice direct negative feedback. They might use upgraders to emphasize their point: "This proposal is completely inappropriate for our company's needs!" The US and Argentina are more in the middle and often use downgraders to soften statements: "This proposal is not quite what we are looking for." Japan and Thailand strongly favor indirect negative feedback and shroud unpleasant messages in politeness to avoid embarrassing the offending party. None of them are right or wrong - just different.


When cultures collide, meaning can be tricky to decipher even when the words are understood. Thus, there is a risk of conflict and stymied work. Without adequately considering culture, it may seem like a problem with the individual. Meyer writes of a French employee and an American boss. The employee thought her boss was delighted with her. "He just gushed in my performance review a couple months ago! He barely mentioned anything I need to work on." Meanwhile, the boss was frustrated. "She's capable of great work. But I told her several specific changes to make, and she's ignored them. Her response is unacceptable."

The problem? The boss was using the classic American "sandwich method": precede and follow every bit of negative feedback with a compliment. He was also softening the negatives with downgraders. The French woman, used to employers who are stingy with praise and open with critiques, almost missed the constructive criticism. She was later shocked to learn how close she'd come to losing her job. Once she knew how to interpret his feedback, they got along great.


This anecdote reminded me of several incidents in my personal experience. When I studied abroad in France, I learned that French schools grade most assignments and courses on a scale from 1 (worst) to 20 (best), but it's challenging to earn a 14 and nearly impossible to get anything higher than that. 14 and up is the equivalent of an A in the US, even though 14/20 = 70%, or an American C-. 


My French host mother was disgusted one day when her son in university received an assignment back. "The professor wrote 'Unimprovable' and gave it a 14. What's the point of having the scores of 15-20 if you never use them even for a perfect paper?" Likewise, teachers don't say things like "Great job" unless they are seriously impressed, and they're not shy about saying, "That was terrible." Knowing that helped me to adjust my expectations for the grades and feedback I would receive that semester at the local university.

Teachers in France don't go through quite as many of these stickers.

During our first year in Cambodia, a Scottish colleague adapted easily to Cambodian culture but found our North American colleagues a challenge at first. She was exasperated a few times over comments from the Canadian principals. "I spent a couple hours trying various arrangements for my classroom. When they came in and saw me working on it, they told me to try it a completely different way. Don't they trust me? How can they tell me what to do when they've spent one minute thinking about it and I've spent most of the morning?"


It soon became clear to me that they'd heard her express doubt that she'd found the best way, and they'd tried to encourage her by brainstorming new ideas. "What if you tried it this way?" But what sounded to my American ears like a casual suggestion was translating to her as a Command from the Chief, a condemnation of her current approach. Typical of her native land, she had a habit of verbally downplaying her confidence in her own ideas, even when she'd invested a lot in them and was actually pretty close to a final decision. She was reading a lot more weight into the principals' suggestions than they intended, and it left her feeling micro-managed. Obviously personality was also a component: they were easygoing and thick-skinned, even for North American culture, whereas she was careful to avoid stepping on others' toes, even by Scottish standards. She gradually learned to take their comments with a grain of salt - and I learned through our chats to think twice about my words before offering her advice or ideas.


Where was this when we needed it?

If Scottish people tend to be less direct about criticism than Americans, Cambodian culture is far more subtle even than Scotland. My housemates and I used to schedule occasional meetings with our house helper, since she usually came while we were working and we rarely saw her. One meeting came shortly after an incident involving a necklace that had gone missing for a week before mysteriously reappearing; she wasn't the only potential culprit, so we let it go. At the meeting, we said that we weren't ready to give her the raise she'd requested because she had been slipping on several tasks. We gave a few examples: bathroom mirrors hadn't been cleaned in a few weeks, her sweeping and mopping didn't reach the corners, etc. We asked her to improve her performance in those areas. She was pretty quiet. That evening, she texted us to say that after about eight years of working for us and/or previous residents of our home, she was resigning. We were dismayed. We had no desire to look for someone new, and we knew she'd been happy with us until that point.

We called a Cambodian friend to help us navigate. She explained that our forthright criticism and the presence of all five housemates at the meeting would have felt very intimidating to our helper. She probably feared we were about to fire her unless she took our hint and resigned to save face with her family and friends. Once we called her back and explained that her position was in no danger, our helper was relieved and immediately rescinded her resignation.


Meyer gives helpful advice on navigating these pitfalls in work situations. For example, she counseled the American boss to clearly explain his style of performance reviews before beginning. "I like to acknowledge my employees' positive contributions before going on to the meat of the review, the things I need you to change." That would have given his French employee the cue to listen carefully for constructive criticism and to take it seriously.


Meyer also offers tips on giving negative feedback to those from a more indirect culture - tips she learned from a perceptive Indonesian friend who helped her deliver an unwelcome message to a respected senior colleague from Indonesia.


1. Don't give feedback to an individual in front of a group. (Even positive feedback, which may embarrass them.)

2. Blur the message. This means...
   a. Give the feedback slowly, over a period of time, so that it gradually sinks in.
   b. Use food and drink to blur an unpleasant message.
   c. Say the good and leave out the bad.
(For example, if you're reviewing four documents and two are sloppy but two are excellent, focus on what makes the latter ones great, and they'll get the hint about the sloppy ones.

After six years in Cambodia, indirect communication is still not my forte or comfort zone. When I return this fall as a teacher trainer with World Team, I expect to be working more closely with Cambodians than I did at Logos. I foresee myself re-reading and using the above tips and the rest of this book more than once.


While I know it will continue to be a learning curve for quite some time, I am encouraged by Meyer's use of a French proverb: Quand on connait sa maladie, on est à moitié guéri. "When you know your sickness, you are halfway cured." I don't always understand my culture or the assumptions I bring with me from home. But at least now I know that I have them, that they differ from others' cultures and assumptions, and that the differences matter. Along with the humility to ask questions and adapt to other people's preferences, that awareness will get me far.