Weeden, thanks. You're at it again: methodical and analytical. You've bravely tried to untangle a pretty big knot.

Yes, generalities are useful but dangerous. And, yes, to borrow again the cliches: "the devil is in the details" and "here's my two cents" worth.

As a former writing instructor, I had the advantage that my critiques were as private as the student wanted them to be. Whether criticism is public or private makes a significant (often crucial) difference. And, may I offer the thought that, at least for me, criticism can be either positive or negative.

As a teacher, I would do my best to learn whether a given student had a hide like a rhino, or a thinner skin like a pear. That had to be sorted out slowly.

My point is that we all differ in our degree of sensitivity. And to further complicate things, we who are cast deliberately or accidentally in the role of critic should accept that "tough love" works for some..sometimes, while others are so banged up from previous criticisms they need hugs and kisses, figuratively speaking..sometimes.

When it came to grades, I did my best to explain to students my approach: that while I would try to like them all, and hoped that was reciprocal--I was NOT there primarily to evaluate the personal worth of human beings, but to instruct and evaluate to the best of my often deficient ability, the language skills of my students. That required that I report as honestly as I could whether each student was average (C), above average (B), or superior (A). For those who did poor work, there were (D's) and (F's). (Yes, I confess that I generally gave benefit of the doubt modestly upward.)

There's the fact that, psycho-chemically, some teachers/mentors/parents (whatever) are more, or less, effective for some than for others. It's the luck of the draw, to some degree. A further complication is that people change, sometimes from day to day, often from year to year. The point is that one approach might work one day and not the next.

When it comes to unconditional or conditional acceptance, the 1859 poem by Dinah Craik may be worth considering. While we may sometimes learn valuable lessons from bitter experience and determined enemies--as a rule, friends make better teachers, and better parents,too, I'd say.

A friend is one
To whom one may pour out all
The contents of one's heart
Chaff and grain, together,
Knowing that the gentlest of hands
Will take and sift it,
Keep what's worth keeping
And blow the rest away.

Weeden, keep writing. It's good stuff.

I am tempted to praise this post unconditionally, Weeden, but I don't want you think I'm being a smart-alec.

Your thoughts here are, like Bob's, illuminating on something important precisely because being critical is inevitable and necessary. So we need to learn how to disagree or criticize without being disagreeable or injurious. At its best, criticism is offered as a mode of understanding two things: the subject of the criticism, i.e., the behavior, performance, or product; and it also offers insight into the values and expectations of the critic. At its worst, criticism becomes a personal assessment of the one being criticized, which is a much darker cloud for that individual to live under. Of course, I wish I practiced this distinction more carefully than I do sometimes. This post is a healthy reminder, Weeden.

I'm sorry that I missed this when it was new. Wise and insightful; I learned from it, and from Bob's and Darrell's comments. I learned from it much more than I can contribute. But I'll contribute this much: I completely agree that more helpings of unconditional self-esteem boost are not what my students (or my countrymen, or my friends, or I), need. We cannot get too much respect for our humanity, but we can certainly get (and we often do get) too little judicious, fair criticism.

I will also contribute, for what it's worth, a saying of one of the wisest persons in my family, who is a special student of history. He observes that every age most craves what it already has too much of. In the Middle Ages, when people were extremely dogmatic and violent, they prayed hardest for more conviction and steely resolve in warfare. In the romantic era, when people were far too emotional, they prayed hardest for their rationality to get out of the way of their true sentiments. Nowadays, when people badly overestimate the originality, soundness, and significance of their opinions, they pray hardest for greater self-esteem.