Here is an uncomfortable fact.
Sometimes people ask, “What do you think?” when they are not prepared for an honest answer.
Recently, a friend sent three videos to our group chat and asked for our thoughts.
I watched the first video and felt nothing.
Since I did not understand what the video was trying to achieve, I asked about its purpose. Was it meant to introduce the person? Educate viewers? Promote a product?
She explained the videos were meant for social media ads for her business.
Once I understood the goal, I reviewed them as ads.
I commented on the story flow, voice-over script, delivery, energy, and body language. The message did not lead viewers anywhere. The person on camera spoke with little energy, which made the video feel flat. The script also did not give him much to work with.
The second and third videos had similar problems, so I gave similar feedback.
After reading everything, my friend replied, “He’s probably not your type.”
I was annoyed.
There was some prior context about the person on camera, so I already had my own impression of him. Still, I deliberately kept it separate from my assessment of the videos.
I did not comment on his personality, appearance, or whether I liked him as a person. I focused on what appeared on screen and whether it supported the purpose of the ads.
My comments were about whether the videos worked.
Was the message clear?
Did the opening create interest?
Did the story flow naturally?
Did the delivery hold attention?
Would someone watching feel curious about the product?
The talent’s delivery was one factor. The script and direction were separate factors. Replacing the person on camera would not automatically fix a weak script or an unclear message.
So when all my feedback was reduced to “he’s not your type,” I felt dismissed.
It reframed a marketing assessment as a matter of personal preference. It also moved attention away from the problems within the videos. If the issue was merely my taste, then there was no reason to examine the script, direction, or production.
For a moment, I considered returning to the group chat to clarify my position.
Then I asked myself what outcome I wanted.
Did I want her to understand my feedback?
Or did I want her to acknowledge how dismissive her comment felt?
If she replied, “Aiya, I was joking,” would I feel better?
Most likely, no.
I decided I did not need to correct every misunderstanding. I knew what I assessed and why.
The more useful lesson was about the question asked before giving feedback.
“What do you think?” sounds simple, but it leaves too much room for different expectations.
Someone asking might want:
An honest critique.
A quick emotional reaction.
Encouragement.
Reassurance about a decision already made.
Praise for the effort.
These are different requests, even when they arrive in the same sentence.
Next time, before spending my energy on detailed feedback, I will ask:
“Do you want honest feedback or a general reaction?”
I might even add a third option:
“Or do you mainly need reassurance?”
The question might sound blunt, but it helps both sides.
I know what kind of response to give. The other person gets a chance to decide whether they are ready for criticism.
Honest feedback requires consent from both sides.
The person asking needs to be open to hearing what is not working. The person answering needs to understand the assignment.
Otherwise, one person thinks they are helping while the other feels attacked. Then useful feedback gets dismissed as taste, negativity, or personal bias.
Sometimes the problem is not the feedback.
The problem is nobody agreed on what kind of feedback was wanted.
