When Should You Listen to Your Critics?

December 6, 2025

Read Time - 4 minutes

”The art of being wise is the art of knowing what to overlook.”

~ William James

I've received plenty of criticism over the years. Some of it was fair. Much of it wasn't.

(Though I may be a little biased on that assessment.)

If you serve in your leadership role long enough, you'll collect your fair share of flack—everything from subtle digs to direct name-calling. Many faculty and staff don't experience this dynamic because their work—important as it is—happens inside predictable lanes. They can excel without stepping on toes, avoid the discomfort of conflict, do the political dance that keeps everyone comfortable. But lead long enough, serve enough people, and eventually you'll be confronted with a simple truth: you cannot make meaningful decisions without disappointing someone.

I relearned this during the year I proposed changes to our student scholarship process. For years, the system had quietly favored a small group of faculty—those with more institutional privilege and historical influence. It wasn't intentional; the process just never evolved. Meanwhile, newer faculty and those outside the traditional centers of power kept telling me the same thing: the process felt inequitable. So, based on their feedback, I proposed a new framework—clearer criteria, broader participation, fairer distribution.

Before finalizing it, I met with faculty who benefitted from the status quo. They raised concerns. I listened. I asked questions. I considered their points carefully. Nothing surprised me—I'd already wrestled with every tradeoff they mentioned. And after weighing everything, I moved forward. The new framework would encourage broader participation and better serve our students.

That's when I was told: "Kevin, you're not listening to anyone."

And the next day, a different voice: "Thank you. This is the first time I've felt included."

Same decision. Opposite reactions.

One mistook disagreement for dismissal. The other experienced equity.

That reminded me of something important: not all criticism is wisdom—and part of responsible leadership is knowing what to ignore.

But I also noticed something else: The "you're not listening" comment stuck with me for weeks. And the quiet "thank you"? I barely remembered it the next day. We often give unequal weight to criticism, and that asymmetry can distort our judgment.

Why This Matters

Higher education is a feedback-intense environment. Everyone has expertise. Everyone has opinions. And, in leadership, many decision touch multiple people. This complexity creates a leadership paradox—the more inclusive you are, the more criticism you can attract.

In a Harvard Business Review article examining executive feedback reports, the author found that leaders routinely receive wildly contradictory assessments: some stakeholders described the same leader as "supportive and kind" while others saw them as "self-serving and mean-spirited." The same person was viewed as both "empowering and hands-off" and "oppressive and micromanaging"—depending on who was asked.

And here's the hidden dynamic: when you move a system toward equity, someone who benefited from the old way will always feel the loss. Their criticism may be loud, sharp, or moralized—but it's often about discomfort, not wrongdoing. In other words, the presence of criticism isn't always a sign you did something wrong. Sometimes it's the clearest evidence you made the right call.

The challenge is one person's anger can often drown out ten people's relief. This asymmetry means leaders often give disproportionate weight to the loudest dissenting voices—even when those voices represent loss of privilege rather than legitimate harm. Most leaders absorb criticism as if it all carries equal weight. We've internalized the idea that good leaders should listen to everything, respond to everything, and fix everything. But listening is not the same as agreeing.

Early in my leadership journey, I conflated the two. If someone told me they felt unheard, I assumed I had failed. If someone criticized a decision, I considered undoing it. The irony? The more receptive and open I became, the more criticism came my way—not because I was leading poorly, but because people felt safe unloading their preferences, fears, and frustrations. For every person who shares criticism, there will be others who think the opposite—but stay silent.

In the scholarship example, the loudest voices were those losing influence. The quietest voices were the ones gaining fairness. I think good leaders will hear both sides, but great leaders can evaluate feedback based on its validity, not its volume.

What Discernment Actually Looks Like

It starts with sorting criticism, not swallowing it. Some feedback is valuable. Some is preference. Some is fear of change. Some is political positioning. And some is simply the discomfort of people losing historical privilege.

Your job isn't to react to all of it. Your job is to remain grounded in institutional mission, make fair strategic choices, and hold steady even when the noise gets loud.

When criticism hits, pause and ask yourself four anchor questions:

1. Is this about the decision—or someone's discomfort with change?

2. Is this person speaking for the group or just themselves?

3. Does this feedback align with our mission and values?

4. Will addressing this improve long-term health—or just short-term comfort?

These questions filter out at least half of what hits your inbox.

Practice the listening–agreeing gap. 

This is one of the most important leadership skills you can develop. Try saying: "Thank you for raising this. I hear what you're saying and will consider where it fits into the larger picture." You listened. You acknowledged. You didn't commit. That gap is where your sanity lives.

Search for the "feedback opposite." 

Whenever one person shares criticism, ask: "Who benefits from this decision? Who might feel relieved or supported?" Our loudest critics are often those who lost influence. The supporters are quieter but just as real. This practice directly counteracts our tendency to overweight negative feedback. It forces you to notice the people your decision helped—the ones who won't send angry emails but who quietly experienced fairness for the first time. This prevents overcorrections toward the most powerful or vocal.

Weigh the source, not the volume. 

All criticism is not created equal. Chronic critics should not shape institutional direction.

Occasional, thoughtful critics often provide the most reliable data. Mission-aligned voices deserve special weight. Your job is not to silence critics—it's to contextualize them.

Finally, anchor yourself in the long game. 

Ask: Will this matter in six months? Will this help students? Will this advance equity, clarity, or excellence? If the answer is no, release it.

The Bottom Line

If you've ever been told you "don't listen," especially after making a thoughtful, equitable decision, I want you to hear this clearly: that criticism often reflects someone's expectations, not your leadership.

The scholarship decision taught me something freeing—when you disrupt a system that benefited a few, someone will always feel the loss. Their discomfort isn't proof you were wrong. It's often proof that you were courageously fair.

You don't need unanimous approval to lead well. You need conviction, clarity, and a steady hand. You're doing harder work than most people realize, and you're doing it with integrity

Try This Before Friday

Think of one piece of criticism that's still stuck with you the last few weeks.

Run it through the Four Anchor Questions.

Ask: Is this about the health of the institution—or about someone's discomfort with change?

If it's the latter, let it go. You'll feel noticeably lighter before Friday.

That's all for now.

Thanks for reading.and I'll see you next Saturday!

p.s. What's one piece of criticism that's stuck with you lately? The kind that lingers even though you know you made the right call? Reply and tell me about it. Sometimes just naming it helps—and I read every response.

Whenever you're ready, there are 3 ways I can help you:​

1.) Get the free guide: Your First 14 Days. A clear, practical playbook for new leaders navigating their first two weeks in higher ed leadership. 2.) Coaching for New Academic Leaders: A focused 1:1 coaching experience for higher ed professionals who want to lead with clarity, build smarter systems, and stay centered on what matters most. I work with a limited number of clients each quarter to provide highly personalized, strategic support. Send me a message.

3.) Professional Development Workshops: Interactive sessions for faculty, staff, and leadership teams that help reduce conflict, streamline decision-making, and shift culture with smart systems. Virtual and in-person options available. Sessions tailored to your campus needs.