← Sakib Ahmed

Feedback is the Antagonist

On honing the skill of discernment.

a picture of a stop sign and some trees

When I was 24 and working a corporate job, I got a piece of feedback from a manager. "Ask for permission before offering your opinion."

I was surprised by that feedback. I asked for examples of when I had provided my opinion when it was unwanted. I asked for examples. I didn't get any. But I internalized the feedback deeply. Because when you're 24 and you have no reference point, how could you even know to think differently?

I wanted to act on that feedback — to maintain relationships, to be seen as a person who is receptive to feedback, to be seen as a good person.

So I spent the next several years in my corporate career being very careful about offering my opinion. I read career advice articles and took some to heart, like "be curious" — which I followed by asking questions of others instead of stating opinions.

But I started noticing something strange. Other people weren't asking me questions back. They were just stating their opinions. Why weren't they doing what I was doing? Why was no one asking me for my opinion?

I withheld my opinion to my detriment. I reoriented my projects and myself to fit into the shape of the feedback others have given me. My own voice and intuition were pushed beneath the surface.

No one provided feedback to me that I should speak up more. But I kept hearing that little inner voice inside of me saying I should have said something.


Feedback is the antagonist; your intuition is the protagonist

Feedback is the antagonist — the force that repeatedly pulls you away from your own judgment.

Feedback is structurally limited by what others can legibly see. It's based on perception, not reality.

The only person with full access to your situation is you. The only one who understands the context, the dynamics, the incentives, the randomness at play.

I wanted to act on feedback, please others, be seen as coachable. But that instinct — often framed as a virtue in corporate environments — has repeatedly led me astray. The people-pleasing 24-year-old who internalized "ask for permission" wasn't being naive. He was being good. He was doing what you're supposed to do with feedback.

The problem isn't that feedback is often wrong. It's that the very instinct that makes you receptive to it is the thing that can sink you.

The problem isn't that I lack good judgment. It's that I've been trained to distrust it.


Discernment is a muscle

Lately I've been noticing something new. After a meeting, a conversation, a decision — I'll catch myself thinking: I correctly intuited that.

It's small, but it matters. I'm starting to trust my own read on situations. I notice when feedback is really about someone else's perception, their turf, their anxiety. I'm getting better at hearing it without letting it override what I already know.

Discernment is a muscle. The more I use it, the stronger it gets.