In the Rangers and the Green Berets, every class cycle conducts something called Peer Evaluations, “Peers,” for short. This process is an opportunity to lift the curtain that the cadre cannot see behind and offer insights into all the candidates' real behaviors—what they do when no one is watching.
You learn a lot about character in the barracks, at chow distribution, weapons cleaning, or during other monotonous tasks. During Peers, you learn that someone is always watching. Every candidate gets feedback, but the peer review process culminates in listing the bottom three members of the squad based on their patterns of poor performance, or (potentially) poor character.
These are the guys that you wouldn’t want to go to war with.
Being told that your peers wouldn’t want to go to war with you is a hard pill to swallow while serving in the armed forces; essentially, your comrades have just told you that you are not up to the standard—and it hurts.
But sometimes it’s the medicine you need most; especially if your heart beats for service and your pride is keeping you from your next big breakthrough.
As a former cadre for the Ranger Indoctrination Program (now RASP) and the Pre-Ranger (school) program at the 75th Ranger Regiment, I’ve seen Peers go down many times, and I’ve counseled at least a hundred young Rangers and Ranger hopefuls who’ve ranked in the bottom three—“peered out” by their mates.
The common denominator among those who took that feedback well was humility. Their commitment to excellence and growth—and to their team—superseded their personal feelings, and they changed their behavior. The common denominator for those who responded poorly to feedback was pride; their attachment to self, and commitment to individualism, clouded their ability to correct their own blindspots.
Those blindspots are where we will fall the hardest—especially if we are too proud to accept correction—and this is why being called an “individual” is an insult in the Army. Individuals rely only upon themselves, while teammates rely on each other. Rangers have no use for individuals, and cadre have no time for counseling those who dig their heels in.
I am convinced that pride keeps us shackled to our deficiencies, while humility allows us the freedom to grow. Pride is the enemy of growth.
In the Ranger Regiment, we required Rangers to read their peer reports directly to their comrades; we did this because the process of feedback is about competence, not compatibility, and the objective in high performing teams is collegiality—not likability. Whether you like another Ranger (or colleague) or not is entirely irrelevant; when you’re part of a team, the only matters in question are performance and character.
During Peers, we required the men to provide the observed issue, a discussion about the details involved, and a recommendation of how the Ranger needed to improve. This ensured that Peers remained an opportunity solely for constructive criticism, not destructive gossip—and we looked for patterns, not isolated incidents. Hence, the bottom three candidates were indicated by the number of peers who identified the same issue.
After Peers, the young Rangers are offered the chance to course correct and are dismissed if unwilling. This is where pride or humility are exposed in glaring fashion. The humble change and grow into great Rangers. The prideful don’t and find themselves elsewhere, typically with a story about how they got “screwed” in RASP or Ranger School.
Having been on the giving end of this one way conversation more times than I can recall, I’d like to share a peek behind the curtain on one of those short counseling sessions. Though direct and hard in some cases, perhaps there’s a word in here some of us need to hear—especially if we’ve received feedback that we don’t like, and are digging our heels in.
“The Window and The Mirror” - This model has been used across many different leadership approaches and is a staple in the US Army Special Operations community. Simply stated, when someone receives criticism there are two common responses - either they point the finger out at everyone (looking through the window), or they turn the attention back on themselves (the mirror). Always choose the mirror. Instead of firing away at everyone else, take aim at yourself. Look yourself in the mirror and ask, “what can I learn from this? How can I grow through this? Though I may not like what I’ve heard, what part of it may be true? Looking in the mirror is the first act of agency in an otherwise off balance situation.
“Asshole Math” - If you think someone’s an a-hole, they’re probably an a-hole, but if you think 9 people are a-holes, you’re probably the a-hole. The numbers won’t lie on this. If your team has told you the problems they observed and your response is to dismiss them, then that is a you problem. If you find yourself rationalizing with, “they just don’t like me, they are jealous of me, they all conspired against me...” maybe you’re the problem. Do the math.
Seek Responsibility and Take Responsibility for your Actions - this is drilled into every single Ranger from day one. Heeding constructive criticism is a chance to take responsibility for your actions and your faults—and to take ownership of your growth and your future.
Put Down Your Shield and Pick Up Your Pencil - It’s natural, you perceive that you just got “attacked” and you feel the need to defend yourself. Don’t. Instead of picking up your shield, pick up your pencil and start taking notes; ask questions to better understand what your team is trying to tell you. Far too many people walk through life with blindspots because we have lost the art of sharing difficult feedback with each other—try to receive the criticism as a gift.
Stop Making Excuses - You can excuse yourself from growth your entire life, but litigating every point of improvement that someone gives you is foolish and counterproductive. Keep making excuses if you want to stay stuck where you are, or accept feedback with class if you want to grow. The choice is yours.
Grow Up - Just grow up. Don’t pout like a child, grow like a professional. All professionals ascribe to a set of qualifications, expectations, norms, and guidelines specific to their field. If you’ve been called out of line on any one of those matters, then fix it. Period.
It’s been a long time since I’ve sat with a young Ranger who’s been peered out, but seeing professionals react to difficult feedback is quite common in the marketplace. As it turns out, a prideful reaction to having our blindspots exposed is a universally human experience. No one--regardless of relationship, sector, or level of professional tenure--is immune.
And though I never got “peered out” myself, I certainly received some harsh feedback from my Ranger Buddies while I was going through training because I was a “drone,” meaning I fell asleep - a lot. Standing up, on a knee, during a patrol, lying in the prone…you name it, I did it. I was so bad that one night my Ranger Buddy, Chris, took me by the ears, sat me down on my ruck, and said, “Brandon, I love you, but if you don’t sit down and go to sleep while I dig this fighting position, I will punch you in the mouth.”
He was direct. And it was appropriate. I had fallen asleep three times while organizing our fighting position, hitting Chris in the face with my weapon, a dummy rocket launcher, and my digging tool. I thought I could drive on through it, and that my droning wasn’t that bad. But I was blind to the severity and how much it hurt my team. Chris helped me see clearly. And though I hated being sat down like a child, I had a choice: be proud and fail, or be humble and graduate Ranger School.
My buddies helped me earn my Ranger Tab. I’d like to think that I helped some of them earn theirs too. Relying on others stung my pride at age 19, but learning to rely on others has blessed my life immeasurably as I’ve matured.
There are no lone Rangers.
If today you’ve found yourself on the receiving end of some difficult feedback, before you react, get some space and consider the source and the purpose of that criticism. Re-read some of those quick hits above and consider the possibility that you’ve just had a blindspot exposed. Now you see it. Your teammates already had.
And though it may hurt, consider that those who fight growth often end up alone with their blindspots. Professionals humbly take correction, regardless of how much it stings, and grow into stronger and better teammates. Because wisdom walks with the humble, the humble never walk alone, and anything worth accomplishing in life is only worth doing together.
Cover photo: @ante_kante via Unsplash.