If you had sixty seconds to give someone feedback that could change the trajectory of their career, could you do it?

Without crushing them?

Most leaders can't.

We either soften it into uselessness ("You know, sometimes it might be helpful if...") or deliver it as a verdict ("Here's what you need to fix"). Rarely do we land in the middle: honest, direct, and constructed in a way that the person receiving it can actually hear.

This is where recalibration shows up in real time.

Why Sixty Seconds Matters

One minute is too short for softening. Too short for nuance. Too short to hide behind data or distance. It forces you to decide: What actually matters here? Not the thing you could say. The thing that, if this person heard it, might change how they move.

Most feedback we give is noise. It's designed to make us feel helpful without making the other person feel threatened. "Great work on the presentation, but maybe next time try more pauses" is easier than "You're rushing because you're anxious, and people can feel it. Slow down."

The first protects our relationship. The second protects their growth.

Recalibrated leaders know the difference.

There's a Stanford study where they had executives give "critical feedback" to their direct reports. Then they asked the reports how critical the feedback actually was. The disconnect: executives consistently reported giving much harsher feedback than the reports heard. Why? Because we wrap it. We soften it. We provide escape routes. We're so busy making sure the person isn't hurt that we forget to make sure they're actually informed.

The one-minute test forces the wrap off.

What Makes It Work

Here's the structure that tends to land:

Observation. Not interpretation. Not history. What you actually saw or heard. "In that meeting, you interrupted twice in the first ten minutes" beats "You don't listen" every time. One is a data point. The other is a character assassination.

Impact. Not judgment. The ripple. "When that happens, the room gets smaller" or "People stop offering ideas" or "The energy shifts." This is where you connect the behavior to something the person actually cares about.

Assumption of good intent. Not assumption of blindness. Most people aren't trying to interrupt or dismiss. They're anxious, or excited, or trying to be helpful. Name that. "I know you're trying to help" changes the whole conversation. It says: I see you as someone who's trying. This thing you're doing isn't who you are, it's something you're doing.

Possibility. Not prescription. "I wonder what would shift if you waited five seconds before responding?" opens a door. "You need to listen more" closes one. One invites problem-solving. The other invites defensiveness.

That's it. Four things, delivered in sixty seconds. You're done. You said it. Now the question is: can they hear it?

The Hard Part

The hard part isn't the structure. It's the restraint.

Most leaders want to fill the space. Explain the feedback. Soften it immediately. Offer solutions. Walk it back. This is the fear talking: if I don't immediately make them feel better about what I just said, they'll resent me.

But that backfill is where the feedback dies. It becomes negotiable. The person receiving it starts looking for the loopholes instead of sitting with the truth.

The one-minute test requires you to say the thing and then wait.

Let silence be the container. Let them respond first. Most of the time, if the feedback landed clearly, they'll either confirm it ("Yeah, I know") or explain it ("Actually, what happened was..."). Both of those are useful. You've started a conversation instead of delivering a sermon.

Sometimes they'll resist. "I don't think that's fair" or "That wasn't my intention." Fine. Recalibrated leaders don't need the feedback to be accepted immediately. They just need it to be heard. "I'm not saying you were trying to. I'm saying this is the impact." There's a difference, and that difference is where growth lives.

The one-minute test isn't about being harsh. It's about being clear. It's about deciding that helping someone grow matters more than protecting them from discomfort. It's about trusting that people are more resilient than we've been trained to believe.

The irony: the feedback that lands hardest is usually the feedback that creates the most loyalty. Not because it's harsh. Because it's honest. Because it says: I see you well enough to tell you something true. I believe you can handle it. I'm not going to soften it into dishonesty to protect myself.

That kind of directness is rarer than you'd think in leadership. Most people experience feedback as either: a) compliments that don't land because they're too soft, or b) criticism that doesn't land because it's wrapped in so many layers of softening that you can't tell what the actual issue is.

The one-minute test cuts through that.

Try It

Find someone you're working with where something isn't landing. Something small. Not the massive career-limiting pattern—that requires context you can't provide in one minute. Something you've noticed more than once. Something that, if shifted, would open something up for them.

Now time yourself. Sixty seconds. Observation. Impact. Assumption of good intent. Possibility. That's the whole recipe.

Then wait. Let them respond first.

Notice what happens.

Most of the time, if you've centered on something true and delivered it clearly, the response isn't defensive. It's relief. "Oh good. I thought nobody was noticing." Or curiosity. "How would I even change that?" Or confirmation. "Yeah, I hate that about myself too."

The feedback you've been sitting on, unsure how to deliver? It's probably simpler and more important than you think. And the person receiving it is probably more capable of hearing it than you believe.

Try the one-minute test. You might be surprised.