It's common to gather feedback from the people we work with so we have information to improve our work. 

When do we collect this feedback? How often do we collect it? How long does it take for us to act upon it and implement change?

I'm curious about these questions because sometimes we only get feedback once or twice a year. Maybe at the end of a concert cycle. Or perhaps we don't get it at all. When we get the feedback, it often takes time for it to get to us. And then we have to spend time to reflect and come up with actionable steps to be better next time. That "next time" may be next week or three months from now. By the time we have a chance to implement improvements, we might have even forgotten what we were hoping to change.

As a conductor and leader, I realized that rarely do I find myself receiving feedback in the process of working with a group that gives me the opportunity to level up my work as I'm doing it. I'm not improving as fast as I could be. 

And when the feedback process is slow, it also affects the people who give the feedback, causing them to feel like their voices haven't been heard.

Maybe we need to build in more urgency in our feedback timeline.

***

Jim Collins talks about implementing "red flag mechanisms" that create an environment where people feel empowered to raise concerns, questions, and problems immediately. 

In his book Good to Great, he shares his experience of issuing a piece of red paper called a red flag to his students with these instructions: "if you raise your hand with your red flag, the classroom will stop for you. There are no restrictions on when and how to use your red flag; the decision rests entirely in your hands. You can use it to voice an observation, share a personal experience, present an analysis, disagree with the professor, challenge a CEO guest, respond to a fellow student, ask a question, make a suggestion, or whatever. There will be no penalty whatsoever for any use of a red flag." (more here)

Now imagine if you were a leader being confronted with this kind of red flag. When it happens, we are forced to face the issue right then and there in front of everyone. It ensures a certain degree of accountability, even if we are not able to fully address the issue right away. Collins says that red flags "turned information about the shortcomings of the class into information that [he] absolutely could not ignore."

This practice also illustrates the fact that these concerns are valid and important enough to stop everything. It puts every single person in the room responsible for the working environment.

Could we imagine issuing red flags to orchestra members? 

What could they use it for? 

They could use it to speak up about artistic discomfort. Maybe something is way too fast and physically impossible to play. Instead of sucking it up and doing it anyway, it might offer a perspective that invites the conductor to rethink a tempo that will make everyone's experience more enjoyable.

They could use it to share what they need–right now–that could help. Maybe they need subdivisions from the conductor. Maybe they'd rather not see subdivisions.

What kinds of problems could be solved faster? How much better could everyone get in the rehearsal process?

***

Of course, this red flag mechanism works only if we cultivate a work environment where people feel comfortable speaking up. We can always work harder to create that kind of environment. At the same time, simply having a tangible red flag in our possession to use at our discretion may be just the visible reminder that we are invited and able to speak up.

Perhaps implementing something like a red flag is one little step in speeding up the feedback timeline for us to make faster and more effective improvements in our work. It also comes with the added benefit of creating a sense of trust and safety in our workplace.

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