The Curse of Selective Memory
Posted by Chuck Csizmar | Posted in Articles, Universal Compensation | Posted on 29-03-2011
Tags: Compensation management, HR Management, Leadership Development, Management Development
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Have you ever found yourself in a situation where someone (usually your boss or a higher-up) refers to a bogus number, a draft or temporary or preliminary figure that you had given some time ago, and now know is wrong? When you ask why that number is still being used, they point back at you?
Awkward, isn’t it?
You’re suddenly behind the eight-ball and on the defensive because of a number perhaps you didn’t want to give in the first place.
You want to shout, “don’t you recall that I told you that the figure was draft?” That the analysis was incomplete at the time, that further checking was required, or that you gave your best estimate based on only preliminary data?
But you are the author of that number, no matter how wrong it is today. So why is it still in use?
Selective memory
It turns out that all that was remembered by the fellow with the frown on his face was that particular damning figure, and all the buzz of qualifier terms and conditions that preceded and followed it have been forgotten. To your chagrin you may be viewed as someone who either; 1) gave bad information, or 2) changed your mind without telling anyone.
Unfortunately, you can’t say what you’re thinking. That wouldn’t be a good career move. The only card you have to play reads “damage control.” Roll out those qualifiers again.
Earlier in my career, when I was responsible for job evaluation, I would steadfastly refuse to offer a preliminary evaluation, having been burnt by the same scenario as above. I found that, if the managers liked what they heard, that’s all that they would hear. Because if lord forbid the final analysis differed from the preliminary estimate you’d be hauled up before the Inquisition to explain why you changed your mind.
“I already told the employee,” is a phrase I’ve heard more than once – before I learned to keep my mouth shut.
So be careful when you give a number to management before you’re confident enough to defend it. For some reason they will grab what you give and remember it with their steel trap, but flawed memory, while at the same time forgetting any qualifier terms or cautions you might have provided.
It’s human nature to remember what you want to hear, or what you can accept. So that preliminary figure you surrounded with qualifiers? Chances are management was OK with the number, or at least could deal with it, and so off they ran to integrate your analysis into their plans.
“I don’t remember you saying that”
In their forgetfulness they might even grow irritated with you, for all the plans they made with “draft” or “preliminary” data (shame on them!). These folks suddenly act like you changed your mind, or gave them bad information. All your previous explanations and qualifier comments are lost.
Management memories can be quite selective.
What can you do about it?
This is a situation where your options are limited, because; a) you’re likely dealing with your boss or higher, and any critique of their behavior needs be carried out very carefully, and b) when you’re asked for a number you generally have to give one. Begging off is not often a career enhancing move.
So remember a tactic once described to me by a Training colleague: you have to tell them, then tell them again, then remind them of what you told them. So if caught up in a “give me a number” quandry, you need to emphasize whatever qualifiers might later modify the figure being discussed. Then you have to repeat your concerns again before closing.
Finally, put the worrisome figure in writing, nicely wrapped together with whatever concerns you have about its validity. Cover yourself.
Will it work? Will it save you from another awkward moment?
Life isn’t fair, is it? So no, even this strategy will fail from time to time. But at least you’ll have positioned yourself to present an effective response.
Just be polite about it.
Photo courtesy of Creative Commons, by Leeks





