Trial by Ordeal
In medieval England, if you were accused of doing something wrong, you might have to prove your innocence by carrying a red-hot iron bar.
Then you waited three days. If the wound was healing, God had apparently decided you were innocent. If it wasn't, well, you had your answer.
No complicated evidence. No lengthy investigation. No appeals process. Just a red-hot piece of metal and a lot of faith.
Thankfully, modern organisations have moved on. We no longer ask employees to carry red-hot iron bars to demonstrate their competence. We have performance reviews instead.
We have objectives, competency frameworks, rating scales and evidence. Much more sophisticated. Much safer.
Usually.
Performance reviews are supposed to make judgement fairer. Everyone knows what is expected. Performance is assessed against agreed objectives. Evidence is considered. Feedback is given. The process produces a rating.
The process looks objective. The judgement can be anything but.
What does “exceeds expectations” actually mean? How much initiative is enough? What does “demonstrates leadership” look like? How much “strategic awareness” is required? Two managers can look at the same employee and reach completely different conclusions.
Then there are the phrases that sound precise but aren't: “takes ownership”, “needs to be more proactive”, “should demonstrate greater resilience”, “needs to improve their strategic thinking”.
These can describe genuine performance concerns. They can also become the modern equivalent of the red-hot iron. The employee is told they have failed a test, but the exact rules may only become clear when the result is being discussed.
How much is enough? Who decides? And where was the line drawn?
The stakes can be high. A poor rating can affect pay, promotion, reputation, future opportunities and even job security. This is not simply an annual chat about how things went.
The problem becomes even greater when the judgement is made with hindsight.
The objective changed. Priorities shifted. Circumstances changed. Something went wrong. Suddenly, what the employee should have done seems obvious. They are judged against a standard that may not have been clear when the work was actually being done.
The review becomes a prosecution.
The manager already has a view. The employee is invited to respond. Now they must produce evidence that they are not as bad as the rating suggests.
The burden of proof has quietly shifted. The employee is no longer simply being asked, “How did you perform?” They are being asked, “What evidence can you produce to persuade me that my judgement is wrong?”
That starts to look remarkably like trial by ordeal.
None of this means performance management is unnecessary. Some people genuinely underperform. Managers have a responsibility to address poor performance. Employees deserve honest feedback. Difficult conversations cannot be avoided simply because judgement is uncomfortable.
But a formal process does not make a judgement fair. A fair process does not automatically produce a fair outcome.
The real question is whether the employee knew what the test was before they were asked to take it.
Before giving someone a difficult performance rating, managers should ask three simple questions.
Was the standard clear before the work was done?
Would another reasonable manager reach the same conclusion from the evidence?
Could the employee reasonably have known what they needed to do differently?
If the answer to any of these is no, don't blame the employee for failing a test you failed to define.
We have replaced the red-hot iron with a form, a rating scale and a meeting. It looks like progress.
But if the rules are vague, the evidence is selective and the judgement was decided in advance, the employee may still be facing an ordeal.
So before you judge someone's performance, ask yourself one uncomfortable question:
Did they fail the test — or did you fail to define it?
