I was about to have a conversation with one of my team members about their performance. I had my notes ready, examples prepared, the whole thing. They’d been missing the mark on client work for weeks and I was frustrated. The quality wasn’t there. The strategic thinking felt shallow. And worst of all, they didn’t seem to realise how far off they were.
I’d even practiced how I’d open the conversation: “I want to talk about the last few projects and some concerns I have…”
(I have a habit of repeating the opening to difficult conversations over and over in my head, so that I get off to a good start).
Then, the night before the meeting, I was reviewing their work again and something hit me. I couldn’t actually articulate what “good” looked like for this specific type of project. I knew it wasn’t right, but I hadn’t ever told them what right actually was.
I’d hired them as a senior person. I’d assumed they’d just know. I’d given them the brief, let them run with it and then felt disappointed when it didn’t match what was in my head.
The performance problem was real. But I’d created half of it.
Before you have that performance conversation you’ve been planning, there’s a more uncomfortable question to ask first: Is this actually a you problem?
Not entirely, maybe. Not always. But at least partially? More often than any of us want to admit. Particularly with senior people who you manage.
Why this is so hard to see (and why good managers still miss it)
When you’re managing people, you’re already stretched thin. You’ve got your own deliverables, your own manager’s expectations, probably some kind of organisational chaos happening around you. The last thing you have mental space for is questioning whether you’re doing your job properly.
So when someone’s performance is off, the natural assumption is that it’s about them. They’re not getting it. They’re not performing. They need to improve.
Questioning yourself feels like adding another problem to a list that’s already too long.
High standards can mask unclear expectations. I’ve watched managers (including past me) who genuinely believe they have clear standards say things like “I know good work when I see it” or “They should just know what we need by now.”
That’s not actually a standard. That’s a feeling.
This gets even harder when you hire someone senior. You bring them in, you’re paying them well, you assume they’ll just figure it out. You give them autonomy because that’s what senior people need, right?
Except autonomy without context isn’t empowerment. It’s abandonment.
The better the manager you think you are, the harder this is to spot. Because you believe you’re already doing it right. You’ve managed people before. You’ve got experience. Surely if there’s a performance problem, it’s about their performance, not your management.
The five “you problem” patterns to look for
Here are the five most common patterns I’ve seen (and experienced) where what looks like their performance problem is actually at least partially about your management.
Pattern 1: The Moving Target
This is where you’ve changed what success looks like without explicitly resetting expectations with the person.
A client project starts with one scope. Three weeks in, the client’s priorities shift. The parameters change. What “good” means for this project is now completely different. But you haven’t sat down with your team member and said “Right, here’s what’s changed and here’s what I need from you now.”
You’re frustrated they’re still optimising for the original brief. They think they’re doing exactly what you asked for.
The test: Could your team member write down what you expect right now and would it match what’s in your head? If not, that’s a you problem.
Pattern 2: The Assumption Gap
This is where you’re managing them the way you’d want to be managed, but it’s not what they actually need. It’s a super easy mistake to make.
Maybe you’re someone who thrives on autonomy. Give you a brief, let you disappear for two weeks and you’ll come back with something brilliant. So that’s how you manage everyone.
Except the person you hired from a corporate background is used to regular check-ins, clear milestones and structured feedback. Your “figure it out” approach doesn’t feel like trust to them. It feels like you don’t care about their work.
Or the inverse. You need regular updates to feel confident things are on track. So you schedule daily check-ins, ask for progress reports and want to see drafts early. You think you’re being supportive. They feel micromanaged and like you don’t trust them.
The assumption gap creates a situation where you’re both trying your best and both feeling let down.
Pattern 3: The Feedback Drought
You noticed something was off weeks ago. Maybe months ago. But you didn’t say anything because it was small, or you were busy, or you thought they’d figure it out.
Then it happened again. And again. Now it’s a pattern and you’re frustrated that they haven’t fixed something you’ve never actually told them is a problem.
Or worse, you gave feedback once, didn’t see immediate change and assumed they weren’t listening or didn’t care. But you never followed up. You never checked if they understood. You never asked if they needed help applying it.
Pattern 4: The Context Blackout
This is where someone is executing tasks without understanding the why, the client relationship, the strategic intent, or the political dynamics.
Then you’re frustrated they’re not “thinking strategically” or “showing good judgment.” But you’ve never shared the context that would enable either of those things.
I managed someone once who was handling client communication on a tricky account. They kept getting the tone wrong, pushing back on things they should have accommodated, accommodating things they should have pushed back on.
I was annoyed. Why couldn’t they read the situation better?
The problem was that they had no idea about the history of this account. They didn’t know that we’d nearly lost this client six months ago. They didn’t know which stakeholder had ultimate decision-making power. They didn’t know that the client’s CEO and their marketing director had completely different priorities and we were trying to balance both.
I knew all of that. It informed every decision I made. But I’d never told them any of it. I’d just expected them to somehow intuit the complexity.
Pattern 5: The Style Mismatch
They do good work. It’s just not the way you’d do it. And somewhere along the line, you’ve started conflating “different from how I’d do it” with “wrong.”
Maybe they need to talk things through out loud to process them and you prefer people who think quietly and come to you with solutions. Maybe they work in iterative drafts and you prefer a more complete first version. Maybe they’re detailed and methodical and you’re fast and instinctive.
None of those are performance issues. They’re style differences.
But if you’re not careful, you start giving feedback that’s really just “be more like me.” And that’s not helpful to anyone.
The uncomfortable question: Are they actually underperforming, or just performing differently than you would?
The self-audit (specific questions to ask yourself before the conversation)
Right, let’s get practical. Before you sit down to address their performance, take 20 minutes and work through these questions honestly. Write down your answers. Don’t just think about them, actually write them.
On Expectations:
Have I told them explicitly what good looks like, or am I assuming they should know?
If I asked them right now what success means for their role, would they say the same thing I would?
Have I provided examples of the standard I expect, or just pointed out when they miss it?
When I gave them this project or responsibility, did I explain what great would look like, or just what needed to be done?
On Feedback:
When did I last give them specific, actionable feedback on this issue? (Not a hint. Not an indirect comment. Actual clear feedback.)
Have I been giving “hints” or indirect feedback, assuming they’ll read between the lines?
Did I follow up after previous feedback to see if they understood it? To see if they could actually apply it?
Am I frustrated about something I’ve never actually named as a problem?
On Support:
What context or information do they need that I haven’t shared?
Am I managing them the way they need, or the way I prefer to be managed?
Have I asked them what support would be helpful, or assumed I know?
What resources, training, or guidance have I provided to help them succeed at this?
On Standards:
Am I holding them to an implicit standard that exists only in my head?
Is my standard actually the standard, or is it my personal preference?
Would other managers at my level describe “good work” the same way I do?
Am I comparing them to how I did this role, rather than what the role actually requires?
Here’s the key test and it’s uncomfortable: If they’re failing, could I articulate exactly what I’ve done to set them up to succeed?
Not what I assumed they knew. Not what I hoped they’d figure out. Not what “someone at their level should know.”
This week, before you have that performance conversation you’ve been planning, take 20 minutes to work through the self-audit questions above. Actually write down your answers.
If you realise some of this is on you (and honestly, it often is at least partially), have the reset conversation first. Clear the decks on your contribution before you address theirs.
And if you go through the questions and realise you’ve genuinely done everything right? Then you can have the performance conversation knowing you’ve eliminated your part of the equation. Either way, you’ll know.
I know it’s not easy to question yourself when you’re already doing your best. But this is one of those situations where being honest with yourself first makes you a significantly better manager.
