Turning Negative Feedback Into Next Year Goals

It’s a secret strategy for picking something I want to do more of next year. Secret because it’s annoying to admit and - studying it closely, candidly, hurts a bit.

It’s a shin-kicker. It won’t kill me but I don’t feel good about staring at it.

And yet, it’s a way to take negative stuff from the year and parse out where there’s actual useful signal in those ugly comments.

Before I explain the process, though, I feel like I have to share a metaphor via a (terribly boring) finance debate about how you define risk.

I promise this will make sense and help clarify the argument. Stick with me here.

Some people want it to mean the odds of something working out poorly.

Other people want it to mean variance.

You kind of always have to figure out, whenever somebody is casually using the term, what they’re talking about.

I’m in the camp you can use it to mean both things, so long as you specify which one you’re talking about.

For example - let’s use a non-finance example like gas station sushi.

Gas station sushi is risky because you might get sick from eating it.

Nobody really knows how it came to exist in the gas station.

So the chance of eating it and it not going well - that’s the risk.

But, somewhere in the world, right now, somebody is reading this and thinking, “Oh, but this guy has no idea what he’s talking about - I know a gas station, and it’s actually the best sushi I’ve ever had, anywhere, and you have to try it to believe me.”

This is risk too.

This, the gas station sushi that doesn’t suck and won’t kill you example, is risk in terms of an idea called variance.

Variance can be good.

It can kill you, too, but it also can reward you in surprising ways.

Variance is risk that moves in both directions.

So you have a risk that it might end horribly badly, OR it might turn out wonderfully well.

I like variance.

I especially like variance in my year-ahead planning.

I especially love variance in gauging reactions to creative work.

Now we’re ready to do this exercise here, together. I’ll share my stuff - you do your own where you do your own.

Pick something from last year, that you did, that you think you might want to do again next year, where you have an example of variation in the reaction to said thing.

I’ll go first. It’s become clear to me that most guests who come on my podcasts are amused by the intros I do for them.

They are unconventional. They are silly.

They are intros designed to make the guest feel like I am willing to be a fool who is already very interested in them and their backstory - meaning I usually tease several easter eggs specific for the guest to pick up on in their intros - and the whole thing is an exercise in surprise, delight, and again, demonstrating my silliness and lower status, so they feel safe to start sharing.

This is exactly the kind of place I would expect to see variance.

Because I am taking a swing and, I am never surprised, even if it stings a little, when I get comments in various places like this:

Now you go.

What’s something you did that somebody seemed to hate?

It sucks to think about this, I know.

And for the person reading this who didn’t have anything anyone hated this year - let me say something to you for a second:

Swing harder.

If nothing inspired a negative reaction this year, you have to push until you get something people don’t like.

Because even if only two people see it, but one thinks it’s dumb and the other thinks it’s pretty cool, you can take that as being onto something.

By far, the most polarizing thing I’ve got on the podcast is people being annoyed by my intros.

So, I’ll keep doing it in 2026.

I am going to tweak them a bit, around the reactions to see if I can get more of my normal guest responses, even if they’re a shocked sounding “Well, nobody’s intro’d me like THAT before.”

Because differentiated is a compliment.

Because when people point out they don't love the intros, they're actually identifying the intros as the thing - which means it's working exactly as intended. That's the price of admission for people actually paying attention.

Especially other hosts when they’re guests. Ahem.

Not to mention - I do have a lot of fun with them, which is half the battle here. I’d rather not do a podcast than just read somebody’s CV or LinkedIn about section.

Next year I’m opting to NOT optimize away the variance. I’ll lean more into it. I’ll push a little harder on the intros, somehow, even if I’m not sure how yet.

Something for everyone is something for no one. But something for the people who appreciate what I’m doing, that’s how audiences come together.

What can you do with this?

Look at what you did and find something somebody hated.

Maybe they told you it sucked. Maybe they publicly mocked you.

THAT is the risk you are looking for. That’s just the nasty side of the same swing that also creates your best reactions.

If you think it was based on a good idea, that polarized reaction is the signal you need to help push the envelope further next year.

Risk isn’t a bug in your creative work, it’s an actual feature, offering you evidence that you’re taking a swing and inspiring a genuine reaction.

Write one thing down. Screenshot some negative comments. Then decide to lean harder into it next year.

MORE REACTIONS in 2026. LFG.

ps. I feel like I have to say this. Sign. If you are reading this and thinking of something literally everyone hates, i.e. this made you think of some awful, hate-filled take you had that got you quasi cancelled or something, this isn’t for you. it has to be healthy variance. I trust my readers to know the difference but I’m adding this here - just in case.