I recently had to replace the 18-inch ring light in my office. After about three years of regular use, the circuitry finally gave up and it stopped working altogether. I can't really complain. It had spent years illuminating training videos, Teams calls, online courses and various attempts to make me look at least vaguely professional on camera. Electronic equipment eventually reaches the point where it decides it has done enough though, and apparently my ring light had reached that conclusion.
I don’t really like buying things that much. I worry that I am going to waste my money, buy the wrong thing or get something that doesn’t work as intended, or at all. However, replacing the ring light seemed as though it ought to be straightforward. Unfortunately, that assumption lasted only until I started looking at prices.
The original ring light hadn't cost a fortune. At the time it was a perfectly reasonable purchase – you could even call it cheap (I like a good bargain). Looking around three years later, though, I discovered that most of the cheaper replacements were now approaching £100, with those that were half-decent being considerably more. Apparently inflation has been working hard over the past few years. So what had once been a moderately priced accessory now seemed to have joined the ranks of products requiring a discussion with my wife about whether I really needed it to do my work or whether I could somehow continue delivering training illuminated by a desk lamp I’d bought from Argos balanced on a pile of books.
I did eventually convince my wife and dutifully went to have a look on Amazon for a replacement. While browsing through various options, I eventually found a ring light that looked remarkably similar to the model I was replacing. In fact, it appeared to offer rather more. Along with the ring light and tripod, it also included a removable shelf and a separate mounting arm for a microphone. The specifications looked good. The photographs looked good. Most importantly, the price looked very good indeed. It wasn't dramatically cheaper than everything else on the market, but it was substantially cheaper than many similar products. It looked exactly the sort of bargain we're all hoping to find when we start shopping online.
Naturally, I then started reading the reviews. Now, reviews are useful. At least that's the theory. Most of us want some reassurance before spending our money. We'd quite like to know whether the product actually works, whether it falls apart after three days and whether previous customers discovered any unpleasant surprises. If enough people are complaining about something, it's usually worth paying attention because there is every possibility they've spotted a genuine problem.
Now, reviews are useful. At least that's the theory. Most of us want some reassurance before spending our money. We'd quite like to know whether the product actually works, whether it falls apart after three days and whether previous customers discovered any unpleasant surprises.
Several one-star reviews immediately caught my attention. One person complained that there was no microphone included. Another said the tripod was unstable and top-heavy. Someone else claimed that pieces were missing from the package. There were also complaints involving a Bluetooth controller which either wasn't present or didn't do whatever certain reviewers thought it ought to do. Reading through them quickly, it was possible to form the impression that this wasn't so much a ring light as an elaborate practical joke being played on unsuspecting customers.
The more closely I examined the reviews, however, the stranger they became. The microphone, for example, had never been advertised in the first place. The product description clearly included a microphone arm. An arm for attaching a microphone is not the same thing as a microphone. By the same logic, my driveway should have come with a complimentary car. The complaints about missing components were similarly vague. Nobody seemed entirely certain what was missing, although after a bit of digging it appeared that much of the outrage centred around a Bluetooth controller that the product description had never actually claimed to include. One reviewer was particularly annoyed that this controller didn't directly operate the ring light despite the fact that the ring light itself came supplied with a dedicated remote control designed specifically for that purpose.
The criticism about the tripod was perhaps my favourite. Apparently it was unstable and top-heavy. Now, I'm not claiming expertise in tripod engineering, but most people who have used one know that stability is heavily influenced by how far apart you place the legs. A tripod with its legs properly extended is generally very stable. Complaining that a tripod is unstable without explaining how it was assembled is a bit like criticising a ladder because you forgot to open it.
In the end I did what I usually do in these situations. I ignored the reviews and bought the light anyway. I mean, what’s the worst that could happen? And when it arrived, I discovered that it was identical to the ring light I was replacing (they’re all made in China and had the same code on the back). It worked perfectly (at least for the moment), included more accessories than my previous model and cost significantly less than many of the alternatives I'd been considering. In other words, it turned out to be exactly what I wanted.
Had I relied entirely on those Amazon reviews, though, I might easily have spent considerably more money elsewhere.
That buying experience got me thinking about feedback in general.
We place enormous trust in the opinions of other people. Whether we're buying ring lights, booking holidays, choosing restaurants, selecting software or deciding which trainer, consultant or tutor to employ, we want to know what previous users thought. Experience is valuable. Somebody else has already taken the risk, already spent the money and already discovered the strengths and weaknesses. Why wouldn't we use that information?
Experience is valuable. Somebody else has already taken the risk, already spent the money and already discovered the strengths and weaknesses. Why wouldn't we use that information?
The problem is that we often treat all feedback as though it has equal value. But it doesn't.
Some feedback is thoughtful, balanced and genuinely useful. Some feedback is incomplete. Other feedback is based on misunderstandings. Some of it appears to be written by people who never quite understood what they were buying in the first place. Just like the Amazon review, the existence of feedback doesn't automatically make it informative. Sometimes it tells us more about the reviewer than it does about the thing being reviewed.
Exactly the same problem exists in training, tutoring, consultancy and analytical services.
When an organisation commissions a trainer, consultant or analyst, it naturally wants to know whether it obtained value for money. There may be evaluation forms at the end of a course. There may be discussions with participants. There may be reports produced for managers or commissioners. Whatever form it takes, somebody is trying to answer a simple question: was this training or consultancy service worth paying for?
The people who attended the training or worked with the consultant are often in the best position to answer that question, which means their feedback carries considerable weight. That can be a good or a bad thing depending on the feedback received.
I've been fortunate enough in my career to have received a lot of positive feedback over the years. And while it's always nice to hear that somebody enjoyed a course, the feedback I find most valuable isn't necessarily the feedback that makes me feel good. Instead, it's the feedback that tells me something I didn't know.
the feedback I find most valuable isn't necessarily the feedback that makes me feel good. Instead, it's the feedback that tells me something I didn't know.
You see, when you're delivering training, you can't see the course through everybody else's eyes. Something that felt perfectly clear when you explained it may not have been understood in quite the way you intended, if at all. A section you considered particularly useful may have been less effective than you imagined. A question raised repeatedly by different participants may reveal a gap that you hadn't recognised existed. No matter how experienced you become as a trainer, there are things that other people can see that you can't.
Training also changes constantly. Software changes almost daily. Methods change less often, but things come in and out of fashion. Expectations certainly change. And of course the audiences change. Sometimes the trainer changes as well. Standing still isn't really an option, and constructive feedback plays an important role in identifying where improvements can be made.
There is another aspect of feedback that I think participants sometimes overlook. Organisations often use it when deciding whether to commission the same trainer, consultant or tutor again in the future. If a group of participants report that a course was useful, relevant and well delivered, that creates evidence. If they can explain specifically what worked and why, that creates even stronger evidence. When similar training is needed later, those comments can, and should, influence future decisions.
The absence of feedback creates a different problem entirely. A course may have been excellent. Participants may have learned a great deal. They may have applied that knowledge successfully for years afterwards, solved problems more effectively, avoided costly mistakes or developed skills that helped them progress in their careers. From the participant's perspective, the course did exactly what it was supposed to do. The trouble is that none of that necessarily becomes visible to anyone else.
We often assume that no feedback is neutral, but it isn’t. Positive feedback creates evidence. Negative feedback creates evidence. No feedback creates uncertainty. The organisation that funded the training is left trying to judge success with very little information. If a trainer receives glowing evaluations from one group and silence from another, the silence can easily be interpreted as a lack of enthusiasm, even when that isn't true. Human beings are remarkably good at filling gaps in information, and not always accurately.
We often assume that no feedback is neutral, but it isn’t. Positive feedback creates evidence. Negative feedback creates evidence. No feedback creates uncertainty.
People don’t choose not to leave feedback because people are being malicious. More often than not, they're simply busy. They attend a course, learn what they need to learn and move on to the next thing demanding their attention. The training becomes part of the background of their working life. They stop thinking about it because it served its purpose. Ironically, some of the most useful training suffers from this problem. Once people have incorporated what they've learned into their normal practice, they no longer think about where they learned it in the first place.
Yet the organisation making future commissioning decisions doesn't see any of that. It doesn't see the mistakes that were avoided six months later because someone remembered something from the course. It doesn't see the improved confidence, the better decisions or the increased efficiency. It sees the evidence that was recorded at the time, and if nothing was recorded, there is very little to work with.
To an extent this is no different from my ring light. If nobody had left a review, I'd have had very little information on which to base my decision. Would you buy something on Amazon if it had no reviews at all? You might. If it was cheap enough, perhaps you’d take the chance. If it was expensive, you’d probably be more cautious. The absence of reviews doesn’t necessarily mean the product is bad, but it leaves you with less information on which to base your decision.
The difference is that with training and consultancy, the missing information isn't about a product. It's about a person's reputation, expertise and future opportunities. A trainer may have delivered an excellent course and generated genuine value for an organisation, but if nobody ever says so, there may be remarkably little evidence that any of it happened.
A trainer may have delivered an excellent course and generated genuine value for an organisation, but if nobody ever says so, there may be remarkably little evidence that any of it happened.
That’s why I think participants sometimes underestimate the value of taking two minutes to provide honest feedback. They’re not simply commenting on a course. They're contributing to the evidence that an organisation will use when deciding whether that trainer, consultant or tutor should be invited back in the future.
I've seen a similar issue with tutoring. Over the years I've helped many GCSE and A-Level students achieve strong results. Once the examinations are over, however, many families quite understandably move on with their lives. The tutoring has served its purpose and there are countless other things competing for their attention. I don't interpret the absence of reviews as dissatisfaction. More often than not, I suspect it's simply because people are busy.
The difficulty is that prospective clients don't see those successful outcomes. They see reviews, recommendations and testimonials. The outcome may have been excellent, but if nobody records that fact, the evidence effectively disappears. This is why I think feedback deserves rather more consideration than many of us give it.
There is an important qualification, however. Not all criticism is necessarily directed at the right person.
Many training courses are commissioned by organisations that decide what course is required, who should attend, how long it should last and how it should be delivered. The trainer is then engaged to deliver what has been commissioned.
Suppose an organisation books an introductory course because it believes staff need an introduction to a topic. One participant then complains that they already knew most of the material because they have been working in that area for ten years.
Is that necessarily evidence that the trainer performed poorly? It may mean the participant attended a course that wasn't aimed at their level of experience. It could be that the organisation misunderstood the competency levels of its staff. Or it may indicate a mismatch between audience and course rather than a failure on the part of the trainer.
Of course, trainers are not above criticism. If the course description was misleading, if the trainer delivered something entirely different from what was promised or if the material was presented badly, those are perfectly legitimate concerns. The trainer should absolutely know about them. But what isn't always reasonable is assuming that every disappointment automatically reflects a failing on the part of the person delivering the course.
what isn't always reasonable is assuming that every disappointment automatically reflects a failing on the part of the person delivering the course.
The same principle applies elsewhere. I've delivered both face-to-face and online training over the years, with more online since the pandemic. Sometimes organisations choose one format, and sometimes they choose the other. Organisations now tend to prefer online training as it reduces the travel and refreshment costs for participants. They also tend to want to pay less to the trainer for it thinking it is easier to deliver, but that’s a subject for a different article. Now, if somebody tells me that they find online learning difficult because they prefer being in a room with other people, that's entirely valid feedback. It tells me something about their experience. What it doesn't necessarily say is that the trainer made a mistake.
That distinction matters because feedback often loses context as it moves through organisations. Detailed comments become survey results. Narrative explanations become numerical ratings. Nuance has a habit of disappearing once information starts being summarised in spreadsheets and reports.
For large organisations, one slightly unfair criticism may make very little difference. They probably have loads of customers and a complete marketing department that can find more work. But for sole-traders, small businesses and independent consultants, the picture can be significantly different. Our reputation matters. Every recommendations is important. Repeat business is essential for us to survive. And that future work can be influenced by the information left behind by previous clients.
None of this means that people should only leave positive feedback. If something wasn't good enough, say so. If I explained something badly, tell me. If the material was out of date, tell me. If I failed to answer questions properly, tell me. If there was something I could have done better, I'd much rather know about it than remain blissfully unaware. What makes feedback useful is that it is constructive, honest, specific and fair. It asks what actually happened. It distinguishes between dissatisfaction and responsibility. It focuses on things that were genuinely within the control of the person being assessed rather than blaming them for every aspect of the experience.
What makes feedback useful is that it is constructive, honest, specific and fair. It asks what actually happened. It distinguishes between dissatisfaction and responsibility. It focuses on things that were genuinely within the control of the person being assessed rather than blaming them for every aspect of the experience.
Quality training isn't simply somebody standing at the front of a room working through a set of slides. Good analytical work isn't simply a spreadsheet full of numbers or a dashboard with attractive colours. Consultancy isn't merely a report handed over at the end of a project. In every case, the objective is to help somebody solve a problem, understand something better or make a better decision than they could have made beforehand. Good quality feedback helps establish whether that happened.
I've written before about the importance of people responding to work they find useful in The Power of the Repost. Someone can read an article, find value in it and then quietly move on. From their perspective, that's perfectly reasonable. From the writer's perspective, there may be no evidence that the article helped anyone at all. A like, comment or report goes a long way in supporting and encouraging those who post online. The same thing happens with training, consultancy and tutoring. People benefit from them, get on with their lives and never think about them again. That's human nature. We all do it.
The consequence, though, is that silence can sometimes create a misleading picture. People naturally assume the absence of evidence means the absence of something worth discussing, and that isn't always true.
Which brings me back to my ring light.
A perfectly good product was accumulating negative reviews from people who appeared to be criticising it for failing to provide things it had never promised in the first place. Had I relied solely on those reviews, I would almost certainly have reached the wrong conclusion and spent considerably more money elsewhere. The product wasn't the problem. The feedback was.
The same thing can happen with training, consultancy, tutoring and analytical services. Feedback can help people improve. It can help organisations make better decisions. It can help future clients understand what they're buying. Equally, if it is unfair, inaccurate or directed at the wrong thing, it can create an impression that bears very little resemblance to reality.
Feedback can help people improve. It can help organisations make better decisions. It can help future clients understand what they're buying. Equally, if it is unfair, inaccurate or directed at the wrong thing, it can create an impression that bears very little resemblance to reality.
That's why I think feedback deserves rather more thought than many of us give it. If something was good, say so. If it wasn't, explain why. If you're criticising something, make sure you're criticising the thing that actually caused the problem rather than the thing that happened to be standing nearest to it. Most importantly, remember that somebody may well use your comments to make an important decision later.
So if you've attended one of my courses, received tutoring from me, used my analytical or consultancy services or worked with me in some other capacity, I'd genuinely welcome your views. Message me on LinkedIn, contact me on Facebook, fill in my online feedback form. Tell me what worked, what didn't and what you think I could do better. After more than thirty years of doing this, I'm still learning, and honest, thoughtful comments remain one of the most valuable ways of helping me do exactly that.
And if you like this article, like it comment or repost. Sometimes all it takes is a bit of feedback.