There is a particular kind of manager who interrupts you mid-sentence, corrects work she does not fully understand, and delivers the correction with total certainty. Clients describe the aftermath in similar terms: replaying the meeting on the way home, rehearsing what they should have said, and a slow erosion of confidence in work they know is sound.
The reflex is to argue the point, because the point is usually arguable. That rarely helps. What follows is a short, practical set of responses drawn from Jefferson Fisher, a Texas trial lawyer whose work on difficult conversations I often point clients towards, together with some thoughts on when the problem is bigger than any single conversation.
Why the certainty is the tell
Loud confidence and competence are often inversely related. Fisher's version, from years of watching expert witnesses, is that the person who says the most in a meeting is frequently the one who knows the least about what is going on. Someone who is secure in their expertise can afford to listen, ask, and be wrong occasionally. Someone who is out of their depth cannot, and so they talk over you before you can expose the gap, and correct you so that the correction lands first.
This matters because it changes what you are dealing with. You are not in a disagreement about the work. You are watching someone manage their own anxiety by borrowing authority from your mistakes, real or invented. Once you see that, the put-down stops being information about you and becomes information about her. That shift alone takes some of the heat out of the room.
When you are talked over
The instinct is to speed up and get louder so you can finish. Fisher's advice runs the other way. Go slower and quieter than she is. The calmer voice becomes the anchor in the room, and most people, without noticing, adjust towards it.
When you are talked down to
A put-down is fishing for a reaction. Fisher's techniques all work by refusing to supply one, and by handing the discomfort back.
When the criticism is unfair
Unfair criticism from someone who does not understand the work has a particular shape. It is often absolute ("you never check", "this is always late") and it often comes with a rewritten version of events in which her own part has quietly disappeared. The temptation is to correct the record in detail. Fisher's advice is not to dig.
One further observation from Fisher's courtroom experience is worth having in reserve. People who cannot be wrong are usually highly sensitive to how they look to others. He finds that referring to how a third party will see a position ("how do you think the partners will read this?") softens such people faster than any argument on the merits.
Where to hear it explained
Fisher's own podcast episodes are short, usually under twenty minutes, and organised by situation rather than by relationship. For this one, in order of usefulness:
All are on YouTube, Spotify and Apple Podcasts. His weekly email at jeffersonfisher.com condenses each episode into a few lines, which is sometimes all you need.
When it is a pattern, not a conversation
Everything above is designed for a single exchange, and it is good at taking the sting out of one. It is not a strategy for a sustained pattern from someone with power over your pay, your appraisal and your reputation. If this is happening weekly, three practical things sit alongside the conversational skills.
And notice the cost. A boss like this is often the reason a capable person starts to doubt work they know is good, sleeps badly on Sunday nights, or goes quiet in meetings they used to lead. If that sounds familiar, it is worth talking to someone about, whether a trusted colleague, a mentor, or a therapist. The point of the techniques is to protect yourself in the room. The point of the support is to make sure the room does not follow you home.
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