Praise ≠ Feedback (Unless It’s Useful)

Musings on the difference between feeling good and getting better.

There's a certain kind of moment we all secretly crave in life. You've just sent off a project, wrapped up a session, or finished editing something that ate your weekend — and you're keeping an eye on the inbox with the optimism of a fluffy golden retriever waiting for a treat. Then, finally, there it is. 

"Nice work! I knew I could trust you to deliver quality!”

You bask. For the next few minutes, the world seems like it smiles at you. 

And then the high fades. And when you get back to your other to-do’s (or, let's be honest, your fifth open tab of Notion, or that Slack thread you’ve been meaning to catch up with), you may realise something mildly inconvenient: you might have no idea what specifically was nice about your work.

Was it the argumentation? The structure? The timing, the graphs, the carefully formatted index?

This feedback gives you nothing to go on. 

It's like someone complimenting an outfit by saying "Great clothing!" Thanks, I guess?

Praise feels good, but it doesn't teach us much anything.

The problem with "Nice work!"

I want to be fair. Praise isn't bad. It's much better than silence, and silence can be the worst. There are naturally many cultural nuances to this as well. In Finland where I live, there’s a great emphasis on directness, and people love repeating the old saying “no news is good news”. Following that logic, can we say “no feedback means you’re doing a good job”? I deeply recognise this way of thinking, but I also want to take this opportunity to shine an uncomfortably bright spotlight at that. Is that really the way we want to go ahead, as leaders and team members? "Nice work!" is like a biscuit with no filling: technically food, but not very satisfying to eat, or serve to a welcomed guest. 

The problem with “nice work!” is that our brains need specificity to learn. Without that information — what worked, why it mattered, what to do again — it’s really hard to improve, no matter how many dopamine hits we get from thumbs-up emojis and exclamation marks.

People do call that feedback. In reality, feedback just means useful information that helps you get better. Educational psychologists John Hattie and Helen Timperley defined it precisely as information that reduces the gap between where you are and where you're going¹.

So, the really interesting part is that praise can be feedback — but only when it's useful.

So what makes praise "useful"?

Let's run a thought experiment. Imagine your colleague Johan sends you an email:

"Great report!"

Now, imagine a different version:

"In your report on Monday, your summary of the findings made the recommendations crystal clear. Keep using that three-column layout, because it really helps me understand it at a glance."

One is a digital pat on the head. The other is a tiny masterclass in what to do next time. The difference is in the information contained. The second example gives the brain a clear signal: This part worked, this is why, repeat here. It's like a GPS voice that doesn't just announce "Good job driving!" but actually tells you when to turn.

Why too much generic praise can actually backfire

I often see well-meaning people, myself included, scatter "Amazing job!"s and "You're a rockstar!"s like motivational confetti, hoping to spread some joy and kindness. I believe it comes from a good place. As leaders and team coordinators, we need to be able to use the tool that praise is in a way that is intentional and targeted. Research shows that showering praise can even lead to lessened motivation.

Psychologist Carol Dweck's research on mindset shows that vague, trait-based praise (i.e. "You're so talented!" or "You're a natural!") can actually reduce motivation and resilience over time.³ Why? Because it pushes people into identity mode rather than growth mode. If I start believing I'm "gifted," any future mistake starts to feel like an identity crisis. But if you tell me what specific behaviour worked, e.g. "Your structure made that presentation clear", I learn that clarity is a skill I can practise and repeat, not a personality trait I have to protect.

American author Alfie Kohn (who’s also written a bunch on parenting, an equally interesting avenue to explore the intricacies of praise and feedback in learning) takes Dweck’s findings further, arguing that excessive praise can undermine intrinsic motivation entirely and train people to look outward for validation rather than inward for meaning.⁴ So yes, praise is lovely. But too much of it, especially the kind that strokes ego rather than guides effort, is impactful. If too many things are "amazing" it may feel like nothing is.

Psychologists Deci and Ryan add a final wrinkle: how we praise matters as much as what we praise.⁵ If praise makes people feel competent and autonomous (think: "you did this well, and you can keep building on it") authentic motivation has fertile ground to grow. 

But if it sounds like it's secretly trying to steer behaviour ("Good job, now do it exactly like that next time"), people's brains quietly go "ugh, boring, nope." Praise is not a magic wand, It doesn't just get others to obey and repeat what you liked.

There's a neuroscientific reason all of this works. Our brains run on patterns and predictions. When feedback identifies what worked and why, it creates a mental shortcut (“Ah, so that's what success looks like in this situation!”) that we can retrieve the next time we face something similar. Generic praise, meanwhile, gives the brain nothing to anchor to. It's like clapping for a song you can't remember the tune of. Even a single sentence of specific feedback can have outsized impact precisely because it gives memory something to hold onto.

C. S. Lewis captured something related when writing about praise itself: "We delight to praise what we enjoy because the praise not merely expresses but completes the enjoyment."⁶ Noticing something specific and naming it doesn't just inform the other person, but closes a loop between your appreciation and their understanding.

A moment in Norway

I am reminded of all of this during one of our recent VALE courses. We opened one of the morning sessions focusing on the following prompt: Think of a time when feedback you received or gave actually made a difference.

Woah, what a question to face at 09:05 in the morning! (Especially if you, like me, aren't a morning person.) The conversations that followed were anything but simple. People recalled specific sentences, sometimes from years ago,  that had quietly recalibrated how they worked or led. Notably, none of the "feedback that mattered" stories that I heard were about generic praise. They were about a particular moment when someone named what they saw… and why it mattered. 

Later that week, we practised giving feedback on something deliberately low-stakes: a video about how to peel a banana. What followed was a revelation, a fun exploration into the multitudes of the art that is giving and receiving feedback, but also the changing reactions to it. The group turned out to be split on how they preferred to receive feedback, not just give it. Culture, personality, timing… all of those (and more) shape how a piece of honest observation lands. And when working with team members, either as a leader or a facilitator, controlling the landing of any feedback you give is crucial.

After The VALE leadership course 2023 one of our participants wrote in their evaluation:

"I've been inspired by how much the trainers cared and actually saw you. I was and still am super impressed by how even little concerns or behaviours got picked up on and trainers really want to help without telling you 'you should just...'."

Not only was I happy to read this evaluation, but it stuck with me, because for me it was useful praise. It told me that I’ve done a good job, and strengthened my resolve to keep taking action and engaging with participants who seem to have concerns. 

In addition, that phrase “actually see you”  is exactly what useful praise should make the receiver feel. It doesn't shout "Amazing!" into the ether. It points to something specific, names it, and in doing so it states something quietly powerful: “I was paying attention. You are worth paying attention to.”

In today’s world of performative positivity where every LinkedIn post ends with "So proud of this incredible team 🚀✨" that kind of attention is rare and should be treasured.

The SBI+N formula

The Centre for Creative Leadership's SBI+N model is a good tools I've found for making praise useful.⁷ It goes like this:

S (Situation) → B (Behaviour) → I (Impact) → Next (what to repeat or adapt)

Here's what it can look like in practice, and, just as importantly, what it doesn't:

❌ "That was such a powerful workshop!"

✅ "In yesterday's session, you stopped and held the space for a moment before answering that tense question. I appreciated that because it gave the group space to breathe, which was both necessary and powerful. Don’t hesitate to continue doing that.

❌ "You're a natural at this!" 

✅ "In the planning call this morning, your quick summary of the next steps stopped us from going in circles. I’d love to have you volunteer as a timekeeper or note-taker for our next one."

❌ "Great energy today!" 

✅ "When you framed the opening with that story about the hiker, it made the whole topic click for the room. Keep starting with a concrete image and an energetic story."

❌ "Such an inspiration, as always!" 

✅ "When you shared your own uncertainty about that decision before giving your take, it made me feel safer to disagree. That kind of honesty is true teamwork, please let us see more of it."

Notice what the ❌-column examples have in common: they describe a person, not a moment. They're warm and they’re praise, but they're not useful. The ✅-versions describe something that actually happened. They are specific enough that the person knows exactly what to keep for next time.

To wrap this up. Yeah, it's yet another formula to remember, but they exist for a reason. Formulas give the brain something to cling to and help us remember. Over time, using SBI+N stops sounding like a checklist and starts sounding like someone who was not only genuinely paying attention but also decided to turn their observations to actions.

The final test: Can they act on it tomorrow?

One last point for this blog post. It’s a simple way to check whether what you're about to say is praise or feedback: Can they act on it tomorrow?

If yes, it's feedback. If not, it's praise. As has been established, both can be good but fit different reasons and situations. Praise builds belonging and morale; it says you're part of this. Feedback builds skill; it says you're getting better at this.

When you combine them [warmth + one concrete detail and its impact] you get something better than either alone: recognition that guides the receiver.

I'd call that the smallest possible act of value-driven leadership: noticing what matters, and naming it clearly enough that someone can carry it forward.

So yes: keep the "Nice work!" Sometimes the world just needs warmth. But whenever you can, add one more sentence. Tell them what worked. Tell them why. Tell them to do it again.

That's how you move from making someone feel good to actually helping them grow.

Sources

¹ Hattie, J. & Timperley, H. (2007). The Power of Feedback. Review of Educational Research, 77(1), 81–112. https://doi.org/10.3102/003465430298487

³ Dweck, C. S. (2006). Mindset: The New Psychology of Success. Random House.

⁴ Kohn, A. (1993). Punished by Rewards: The Trouble with Gold Stars, Incentive Plans, A's, Praise, and Other Bribes. Houghton Mifflin.

⁵ Deci, E. L. & Ryan, R. M. (1985). Intrinsic Motivation and Self-Determination in Human Behavior. Plenum Press.

⁶ Lewis, C. S. (1958). Reflections on the Psalms. Harcourt Brace.

⁷ Centre for Creative Leadership. The SBI™ Feedback Model. https://www.ccl.org/articles/leading-effectively-articles/closing-the-gap-between-intent-and-impact/