“You’re new to role so you can’t be ranked as a top performer.”
Er, what?
It’s sad and pretty telling that I still remember that moment. In my first year on a graduate programme my manager gave me the feedback: I’d done brilliantly, gone above and beyond, made a big impact, but because it was my first year in the role they couldn’t put me forward for the highest category in the performance review process. At the time I felt in my bones that the logic was faulty, but I didn’t speak up. I just absorbed the unfairness. And there began my disillusionment with all things performance management.
Of course, I know now what a grim position my manager was in. I’ve now spent many years since on the other side of the desk: lots of great people, not enough top-performance rankings to go around, always scratching for some vaguely convincing reason to mark people as ‘good’ and trying to make it not feel like a failure.
Decades later and I’m still trying to square the circle of how to assess and reward performance without all the games – and pain – that our systems generate. Those calibration sessions where everyone is vying, however subtly, to get ‘their person’ into one of the top spots. Those moments when we must tell our star performer that they missed out – maybe because someone threw in a grenade at the last moment that we weren’t prepared for. And don’t get me wrong, I (mostly) don’t think we’re to blame for the behaviour that these processes bring out in us.
So how do we do justice to our people and ourselves in such imperfect systems?
🤪If you’ve been reading my posts for any time at all you’ll know that my first suggestion is going to be to name it. Stop pretending that performance management is a wholly fair and objective process and own up to the fact that it’s as imperfect as we all are. That it’s based largely on subjective judgements of fallible humans who are at the mercy of all sorts of brain aberrations, from bias to blunder.
🥇Having been honest, also be clear about all the things that you and your organisation are trying to do to minimise the effects of this imperfection: call out biases at the start of performance review meetings, spend time and energy talking about, documenting and bringing to life ‘what good looks like’ to develop a shared yard stick of performance (always accepting that it won’t ever be enough or fully accurate).
🏒Play the game. However much we might wish that performance management was different or better, it is what it is, and you need take part well. That means being fully prepared for calibration meetings – know your people, what they’ve achieved and where they need to develop. And have real performance improvement conversations with them through-out the year, not just when the bell tolls.
🪞Playing the game doesn’t mean that you have to play dirty. If you spot poor behaviour be brave enough to call it out: feedback given in a calibration meeting to knock someone down that hasn’t ever been given to them to their face? Not admissible. Outdated views on someone’s performance that dates back to who-knows-when? Push for recent evidence. Weak or discriminatory arguments for downgrading – “they’re on parental leave” (or maybe even “it’s only their first year”) – Unacceptable.
🍊Above all remember that oranges are not the only fruit – performance management processes are important, but they are just one aspect of your role as a leader and developer of people. Put in the hard yards all year round – frequent feedback, career conversations, raising profile and giving credit, creating opportunities for people to grow and be stretched – and not only will it be easier to do those pesky reviews, but your people will also see a big picture, getting validation, motivation and meaning from more than just that one judgement or number each year.
Sometimes I look back on that early experience and am grateful that it taught me not to take anything for granted. You could do brilliantly and still not be recognised for it. I learnt to call out injustices for myself and others over the years that followed. There are even times when I think it was the right call – it was my first year so maybe my stellar performance wasn’t sturdy enough yet. The reps matter.
But the most important lesson took a lot longer to learn: that I would not let my success be defined by someone else. I would write it myself.
