Ignore Couch Critics!
A couch critic is anyone that has something to say about your work, who doesn’t do that thing. For example, someone who doesn’t like your music, that can’t play an instrument or write a song. Someone who doesn’t like your painting, that’s never picked up a brush. Someone who never takes risks, but thinks what you’re doing is “irresponsible.” There’s no reason to listen to couch critics.
In fact, you need to ignore them. In the words of Matt Schultz, lead singer of Cage the Elephant,
“It goes in one ear, and right out the other, people talking shit, but you know they never bother,
In one ear and right out the other, people talking shit, they can kiss the back of my hand!”
Matt knows how to ignore couch critics. But in interviews he talks about his total admiration and respect for the producers that have helped the band make their albums. In those interactions he hangs on every word they have to say, because those aren’t couch critics, those are experts in his field.
Before you start ignoring what everyone has to say, you need to distinguish between couch critics that have no idea what they’re talking about (the majority of people) and those that know exactly what they’re talking about. The latter have opinions that you need to hear.
When I made my first record I was an immature jerk to the producer, Mike. The reality is, I was scared of screwing up. I was so up tight I didn’t allow anything to flow naturally. I had a tight grip on the entire process, completely dominating the room and getting in the way of everyone else’s good ideas. It built to a point where Mike blew up at me and called me out.
I was stifling the entire process. I’d become so overly sensitive to criticism that I wouldn’t let anyone have any control over what we were making besides me, because I was scared they would screw it up. The only problem is, no one in that room was a couch critic. In fact, all of them, including my bandmates, knew far more than me about recording. They’d all made an album before. I was the amateur.
As Mike ripped into me my defenses crumbled and I was able to see the reality of how I’d been treating everyone. I apologized profusely and begged him to use the rest of our time to put in all of the ideas he had for the record. To this day my favorite moments on that album are the things he added after I finally gave him room to work.
It was a very important learning experience for me. Over the last few years so many people had voiced their criticism and skepticism of my ability to pull off the endeavors that I’d taken on that I’d decided to stop listening to anyone.
It was a defense mechanism, and in one way, it was necessary. I had to block out the negative noise. There’s no way I could have continued confidently with other people’s doubts echoing in my brain. I HAD to ignore the couch critics.
What I learned in the studio during my first recording experience is the negative side of that coin. Not everyone is a couch critic. Some people know more than you and hearing what they have to say is absolutely essential.
Distinguishing the couch critics from the experts is a skill that requires time and experience.
In an old demo song I wrote, that never saw the light of day I said,
“Simple choices, seem not so simple at first
Different voices tell you different things that sometimes make things worse.”
You have to trust your gut instinct. It will tell you what is right if you train yourself to tune into it. When my producer Mike started chewing me out, I knew he was right because it was so out of character for him. I knew that the only way he would have become that frustrated is if I had pushed him to a point that made his job incredibly difficult.
When my friends showed up outside my food cart on opening week to point out the flaws and mistakes, I knew they were wrong because I could see the jealousy. They would sit in their car out front and make jokes about the business until they got bored enough to leave. That was an easy one. Couch critics. No business experience. No restaurant experience. Every motive in the world to tear me down because of their own insecurities.
I don’t want to talk too much about “jealous friends” because it’s really easy to sound like a prick. Younger me would have ranted and raved about it for ten pages, but I think it’s easy to summarize. According to you, they are jealous. According to them, you’re arrogant and think you’re better than them. Two sides to every story.
The bottom line is, if you can’t talk to someone about your hopes and dreams and goals, then there really is no point in the friendship and you might as well let it go. If they can’t be as supportive of you as you would be of them, then they don’t deserve you as a friend. I’ve had some friends that were real buckets of water, dousing my fire every chance they got. You have to know your worth.
Would you treat them the way they treat you? If the answer is no, then the problem isn’t you. They aren't a good friend.
Couch criticism can come from complete strangers as well. That’s what the internet is for, right? For trolls to tear down everything they can, venting their misery on the world through a keyboard. From strangers, it’s easier to ignore, but it can still hurt.
From friends, it can hurt a lot. If you’re sensitive to other people’s criticism, it’s going to sting. What you really need to develop is a thick skin, and if I’m being completely honest, the only way to develop a thick skin is by getting mocked, by strangers and friends.
It’s the only way to really be free to do your thing, your way. You have to get made fun of until you become comfortable with it. Make friends with the mockery. Don’t try to deflect it. Don’t try not to feel it. Allow it to pass through you. It goes in, you feel it, you let it go.
Misery loves company and there may be more miserable people now than ever before in history.
You have to keep your fire burning. Without that light, your spirit will die a slow, monotonous death, accepting a life that offends no one. To keep your fire burning you need to avoid buckets of water, people that douse your passion, at every corner. Learn as early as possible to recognize the signs of a fire-douser.
They can’t be happy for you. When you share good news they sink into melancholy, saying things like, “must be nice…” or “lucky..” or “wish I had...”
When you share bad news, they always have something worse that happened to them.
They ridicule you. They’re always “just joking” and it’s you who’s too sensitive and can’t take a joke. They do it frequently, in front of people, to tear you down.
The honest truth is, if you surround yourself with fire-dousers, you don’t have a chance in hell of doing your thing, your way. They will make sure you do their thing, their way, and it will be a miserable shadow of the life you hoped for yourself.
At the beginning, you need to get embarrassed and mocked as frequently as possible. Put yourself in a position to receive criticism. Perform unready. Show unfinished work. Wing it. Get in over your head. Follow a hunch and see what happens.
You need to grow comfortable with criticism and negativity and develop a thick skin as early as possible. The only way you will be able to do your thing, your way is to be immune to attacks on your individuality.
Like any immune system, it needs practice, and lots of it. A child that never goes outside or encounters bacteria or viruses will have an abnormally weak immune system. Their body was never prepared for attacks. They could end up in the hospital from the common cold.
Your emotional immune system works the same way. If you never put yourself in a position to receive criticism, you will be devastated when someone finally ridicules something you care about deeply.
You need to go outside and encounter bacteria. Get up on stage. Walk out on the court. Walk out on the field. Stand up in front of the class and speak. Approach someone interesting. Apply for the job. Start the business. Show your work to the world.
Take risks that develop your character and ignore what everyone has to say about it, unless they have valuable wisdom and experience to share.
