There is a version of this that happens all the time. Someone asks how things are going. The person asked says fine, or good, or some variation that contains no actual information. The person who asked accepts it. The conversation ends. Nothing changes. Both parties understood that nothing was going to change.
This isn't dishonesty in any serious sense. It's a rational response to a set of conditions. People give empty answers when they expect empty responses, when they've learned, through experience, that an honest answer will be received with defensiveness, or explained away, or simply not change anything. Once that pattern is established, the vague answer becomes the sensible one. Why say something real if it won't land?
The asymmetry goes mostly unnoticed. The person asking often experiences the exchange as genuine, they asked, after all, and got an answer. The person answering knows exactly what they withheld and why. The gap between those two experiences is where the actual problem lives.
There are two ways to sit with that gap, and both are incomplete on their own.
The first is the responsibility of the person asking. Asking is not enough. It's not even close to enough, if what you want is actual information. Creating the conditions where honest feedback is possible requires more than posing a question with good intentions. It means asking early enough that the answer can still change something. It means listening in a way that the other person can actually see — not composing your response while they're still talking, not nodding with the particular quality of nod that means I hear you but I've already decided. It means doing something visible with what you receive, so that the person who took the risk of saying something real can see that it mattered.
None of that is guaranteed by the act of asking. What most people think of as "asking for feedback" is closer to creating a formal occasion for feedback to exist. That's not the same thing as making feedback possible.
The second side is harder to say directly, but it's real: the people who are asked have a responsibility too. Not to say everything, not to be brutal, not to perform honesty as confrontation. But to offer something true, even when the moment is uncomfortable. Even when the relationship feels too important to risk. Even when you're not sure it will land well.
The vague answer protects the relationship in the short term and slowly empties it over time.
This is the part that often gets lost in conversations about psychological safety, which tend to locate the entire problem in the conditions, the culture, the leader, the environment. The conditions matter enormously. But they're not the whole story. Two people in the same room with the same leader and the same culture can make very different choices about what to say. One of them will decide the risk isn't worth it. The other will find a way to say something true. The difference is not only structural.
What makes this genuinely difficult is that both responsibilities are in play at once, and each one tends to wait for the other. The person asking waits for the environment to feel safe before they believe they'll get honest answers. The person answering waits for enough evidence that the answer will be received well before they risk giving one. In that waiting, nothing happens.
Someone has to move first. Usually it's the person with slightly more to gain from the real conversation, and slightly more capacity to absorb the discomfort of what comes back. That person is not always, and not only, the one with formal authority in the room.



