One Step Beyond Criticism
Updated: Oct 19
By Pedro Dias · Published every Tuesday on the ORIGEM MKT blog

This weekend, during some family time, I asked a question at the table:
"What do you think we could improve in our home, in our relationship, in the way we live together?"
Each person brought their perspective. Some observations were simple, others required a little more attention. We listened, we talked, and after everyone had had a chance to speak, I asked a second question:
"And how do you think we can, together, collaborate to make this happen? What's the plan?"
The conversation has changed.
We were no longer just talking about what could be different. We were thinking about what each of us could do to make that difference a reality. Everyone contributed their ideas and, in the end, we made small commitments. Nothing too sophisticated. Just a family trying to build, together, the reality we wanted to experience.
I kept thinking about that afterward. There's something I really want to cultivate in my children: that they develop the ability to see what needs to change, but that they don't become people who only point out what's wrong.
I don't want to teach them to ignore problems, to accept any situation, or to stop questioning. On the contrary. I want them to have the sensitivity to perceive what is wrong and the courage not to conform. But I also want them to learn that there is a step beyond criticism.
Why is it so easy to just criticize?
I want to be fair to the criticism. Seeing what's wrong is a valuable skill.
Those who see the problem are usually attentive, caring, and have some idea of how things could be better. Criticism helps us identify problems, question structures, and recognize what no longer works.
The point is when we stop there.

I have the impression that many good people end up living in the place of those who see, point, comment, and complain, and who, over time, begin to curse what they could help change. Not necessarily out of ill will. Often it's exhaustion. Often it's the feeling that it's no use, that it doesn't depend on us, that we've already tried before and it didn't work.
And criticism has a curious effect: it gives us the feeling that we've done something. We name the problem, we show that we understand it, and that seems enough. Dwelling on it is to risk becoming permanent spectators of a reality we wish were different. But the problem remains exactly where it was. And we, a little heavier.
I write this with peace of mind because it applies to me before it applies to anyone else. I've spent long periods knowing exactly what wasn't working—at work, at home, and within myself—wasting far more energy commenting than taking action. I clearly saw everything that needed to be different, but I didn't always include myself among the people who could do something about it. It's very easy to see what's missing. What's difficult is asking yourself which part of that change you're willing to build.
What changes when the question becomes "what's the plan?"
Those in leadership positions see problems all the time.
No time, no client, no process, no market, no way of doing things. It's part of the place.
But I think that part of the exhaustion experienced by leaders doesn't come from the problems themselves, but rather from carrying them for too long simply as a diagnosis. A problem that is only observed becomes heavier each time it is observed again.

The question “what’s the plan?” changes our position in relation to it. We stop being spectators and become participants. And the “together” also matters. When I asked my children how we could collaborate, I wasn’t outsourcing the solution to them, nor was I taking on everything alone. I was saying that it was ours.
Perhaps the same question applies to many meetings. After listening to everything that isn't working, ask honestly: how do you see us solving this together? Sometimes the answer comes raw. Sometimes it's better than anything we could have thought of on our own. Almost always, it gives people back the feeling that they can make a difference.
What if the plan doesn't work the first time?
I once heard a phrase from a mentor that has stayed with me to this day: "If God shows you a problem, it's because He wants you to solve it."

For a while, I read that phrase as a burden. As a summons to carry the world on my shoulders, as if every problem I saw automatically became my obligation. Today I read it differently. Perhaps it's not about solving it right away. Perhaps it's not even about managing to solve it. Perhaps it is, above all, an invitation not to be indifferent. To recognize that, in the face of what we perceive, there is also the possibility of a solution.
And that answer doesn't always take the form of a solution. Sometimes our contribution will be to solve the problem. At other times, it will be to bring the right people together, start a conversation, change an attitude, or simply take the first step to make something start to happen. Not every problem we see will be solved by us. But we don't need to let that limitation lead to complacency.
It's not about having the perfect plan. The plan we made at home will probably need adjustments, and that's okay. What I want my children to learn is that there's a step beyond criticism, and that step is within their reach. That their voice matters, but their actions matter too. That they can question, disagree, propose, try, make mistakes, start over, and build with other people. And, while I try to teach them this, I realize how much I myself still need to learn.
Let our criticism not be the end of our contribution.
How can we move beyond criticism this week?
Perhaps you're arriving this Tuesday carrying some problems you've seen for quite some time. Things you already know need to change, things you've commented on, things you've silently complained about, and that are still there. If that's the case, I don't want to add guilt to that list. Seeing all of this is tiring enough already.
The invitation is simpler.
Choose one. Just one.
And ask the second question: what is the first possible step?
Not the complete plan, not the definitive solution. One step. If there's someone by your side in this, ask them how you can all collaborate to make it happen.
You might discover that you weren't as alone as you seemed.
It won't be perfect.
It might not work the first time.
But there is a huge difference between someone who sees the problem and gets used to it, and someone who sees the problem and decides to walk towards it.
May this week allow you to take that step. Take it slow, have people by your side, and don't feel obligated to get it right, but simply walk the path.
Have a good Tuesday.




Comments