Actor-Observer Asymmetry & Tennis
My student is playing in a tournament, struggling. His feet are slow and off balance, his shot selection is erratic, and his first serve percentage is below par - three things we worked on extensively in the lead-up to the match. Eventually, he loses.
In our conversation afterward, there’s a clear divide between how he explains his side of things and what I think.
What he says: “I tried to do all the things we worked on, but every time I tried, I lost the point. Also, my opponent kept getting lucky, and there were a lot of points where he didn’t play the way I expected him to play.”
What I think (but don’t say): “You didn’t do enough, and you didn’t do exactly what I told you. These things are hard work, and you can’t be a chicken and fall back into your comfort zone when you need to fight and work the problems we’re tying to fix.”
The differences between these explanations is known as actor-observer asymmetry. Players often explain their own failures in situational terms while observers (coaches, parents, teammates) are more likely to see things in general, dispositional terms. That is, my student blames some external factor for his poor play while I boil it down to my student’s innate personality defects.
This asymmetry is not just for isolated events but can apply to life’s themes. For example, I could say that I didn’t turn out to be a star player because I didn’t have the best coaching and mentorship. I never worked hard because no one showed me how to.
On the other hand, my parents and former coaches are more likely to say that I didn’t turn out to be a star player because I was too sensitive, that they never pushed me because I didn’t have the drive or mental toughness.
There is truth in both of these explanations, but the observer needs to be careful not to make a huge leap without considering the full context. Plausibly, my coaches and parents assumed I was mentally weak; anyone there would totally understand that. But my perspective now believes they weren’t pushing me hard enough for me to learn mental strength.
So when coaches call players lazy, they should take a beat and consider: maybe they missed a meal, maybe they’re playing with sore muscles, maybe they’re having an off-day because of something they can’t tell you.
Or maybe they really are lazy. But to call give anyone that label needs careful qualification. Of course, it’s possible to be overly generous there too, using “context” to ignore repeated bad behavior. Parents are often the most guilty of this when they ignore or let their problematic child continue to misbehave without discipline. As a coach, I hear this all the time. “Little Timmy isn’t himself today. He’s not really a spoiled brat that whines in every tennis lesson. He just didn’t sleep well last night and is going through a phase. Try to take it easy on him if he doesn’t feel like working so hard.” Please… if someone shows you who they are, believe them before it’s too late.
When it comes to biases, there are times to trust the actor, times to trust the observer, and times to bridge the divide. When a student is dealing with a tough loss, I listen to the explanation before I share my own opinion. If something is obvious malarkey, I call it out. But when there’s even a whiff of validity, I try to coach the problem rather than moralize about what’s wrong with the person. Instead of “You’re a chicken that doesn’t work hard to solve problems,” I’ll say, “You need to have confidence in your ability to work the problem and that your commitment will pay off in the long run.”
