Recently, a colleague of mine got a promotion (of sorts), and I thought I would do what I do best and bake him a cake. So I spent roughly three hours baking and decorating a pretty glorious chocolate cake that even had his name on the top. I've worked hard on my recipe over the years, and I am confident of very little else in my life other than this chocolate cake.
I took the cake to work and, honestly, was thrilled with the normal cries of adoration. People took pictures, teams walked over just to visit the cake, and many people had more than one slice.
Joshua (not his real name), however, is a relative new starter to the team. He had his slice of cake, and as I returned to my desk, he declared loudly- "Bee, that cake is a solid 9/10."
I felt the room tense.
I turned to him. "Joshua, thanks so much for your feedback. Can you tell me what would make it better to get me that last point?"
"Well, y'know, I never give a ten, so that is as good as it gets."
I am not a 9/10 gal. But more than that, I absolutely am a feedback gal. I actually, much to my colleagues' shock, am comfortable with getting feedback- even about my chocolate cake. But I do, definitely, want it to be meaningful. Needless to say, Joshua won't be getting a promotion cake.
The moral of this floury, chocolatey tale is simple: next time it's review time, or any time you're giving feedback- if the output was a 10, give a 10. If it's not a 10, that's fine too- but don't give a 9 just because you're not comfortable with excellence, or worse, because you haven't bothered to think about what would make it better.