

Everyone thinks that too much praise can turn children into entitled monsters but the science isn’t nearly that simple...
How much should we praise children?
When I took my son to visit my parents in South Carolina six months
ago, my father yelled out ‘Good job!’ after I finished rinsing some
dishes one night. It was a running joke at my expense – I had earlier
exclaimed ‘Good job!’ when my son ate a handful of blueberries, and then
again later that evening when he leaned forward and, after a brief
struggle, pulled off his own sock. He was eighteen months old at the
time.
Sure, I knew the drill: Generation Y had been turned into a
challenged group of narcissists and entitled praise-junkies by parents
who called them proto-Picassos and Einsteins. So what? I bestow a lot of
praise on my child and I’m not ashamed. I’m proud to point out how
talented he is when he bangs away on his mini-bongos or scribbles on the
walls with his crayons. I want to express my genuine delight and
affection for my toddler as he makes his tiny strides forward. My own
parents rolling their eyes won’t stop me.
What do we really know
about praise? Some findings and a dollop of advice come from the
biological anthropologist Gwen Dewar’s Parenting Science, a website for
people like me: when we praise children for ability rather than effort
they come to view talent and intelligence as givens, not skills to be
cultivated and learned. Insincere praise could send the message that
parents don’t understand their child. And praise that merely casts a
judgment –‘Good job!’– is less effective than specific compliments
pointing out what the child has done right.
Over-praising children (You’re amazing!)
can make them feel your standards are very high, causing the fear that
they won’t be able to keep living up to them, say the psychologists
Jennifer Henderlong Corpus of Reed College and Mark Lepper of Stanford.
Praising them for easy tasks can make children suspect that you are dumb
(don’t you know how easy this is?) or that you think they are
dumb. Here’s an especially tricky finding: praising them for things they
naturally enjoy can backfire if you do it too much, sapping motivation
instead of urging the child on.
Doing it all wrong, I was a worthy
recipient of this self-professed rant by the University of San
Francisco psychologist Jim Taylor: ‘Good job? Well, it’s lazy praise, it’s worthless praise, it’s harmful praise… If you’re going to be lazy with your praise, at least say Good effort! because it focuses them on what they did to do a good job… The reality is that children don’t need to be told Good job! when they have done something well; it’s self-evident… Particularly with young children, you don’t need to praise them at all.’
But
were the praise critics right? The first wrinkle in such harsh
critiques is that praise affects small kids and big kids differently.
For instance, a 2007 study led by Paul Hastings, now at the University
of California, Davis, found that parents who praise their preschoolers
for good manners have kids with better social skills, contradicting
Taylor’s belief that preschoolers don’t need praise at all.
Another
study, published in 1997 and led by Sue Kelley at Lycoming College in
Pennsylvania, found that two-year-olds who were encouraged by their
mothers to explore on their own in a lab experiment were more
independent a year later than those whose mothers didn’t praise them in
the first study.
As for effusive overpraising, Ellen Winner of
Boston College and others have found that younger children (under the
age of seven or so) are not sophisticated enough to doubt a mother or
father’s sincerity, meaning they likely wouldn’t run into the ‘too-high
standards’ problem that older kids might.
The second wrinkle in
the anti-praise argument is more nuanced and difficult to grasp. A study
published this year from Utrecht University in the Netherlands and led
by Eddie Brummelman, a PhD candidate in developmental psychology, shows
that, indeed, overpraise (
That’s incredibly beautiful! versus
That’s nice!) can be harmful for children with low-esteem, but be
helpful for those with high self-esteem.
Children with high self-esteem who received inflated praise were more likely to choose the challenging task.
First,
the study confirmed the researchers’ hypothesis that parents would be
more likely to overpraise children with low self-esteem than those with
high self-esteem. Then they had children between the ages of eight and
12, all previously rated for self-esteem, visit an art museum. The
children were asked to paint pictures, which were then critiqued by a
supposed ‘professional painter’. As a final step, they were asked
whether they wanted to attempt a second, more difficult drawing exercise
or a relatively easy one. All children receiving inflated praise viewed
that praise as sincere, regardless of their level of self-esteem. Yet
as predicted, children with low self-esteem who received inflated praise
were less likely to accept the difficult challenge than their
counterparts who received non-inflated praise. On the other hand,
children with high self-esteem who received inflated praise were more
likely to choose the challenging task than their counterparts who
received non-inflated praise.
It makes sense, since people with
high self-esteem are generally self-promoting and seek out situations to
demonstrate their abilities, while those with low self-esteem are
afraid of failure and avoid situations that might reveal their
worthlessness.
The authors write: ‘Thus, inflated praise can cause
children with low self-esteem to avoid crucial learning experiences – a
process that may eventually undermine their learning and performance.’
Here’s the complicated flip-side, though: ‘Non-inflated praise may
reduce fear of failure for children with low self-esteem and thus foster
their challenge-seeking, but it might fail to provide sufficient
impetus to seek challenges for children with high self-esteem.’
Yet
do parents really know whether their children have low or high
self-esteem? If not, should they get an assessment, and add or subtract
flattering adjectives accordingly? I certainly don’t know how my
two-year-old feels about himself, and for good reason. The authors
write: ‘Although young children have a rudimentary sense of “goodness”
or “badness”, only from late childhood can children form and express
self-esteem.’ If my son is merely able to form a concept of either
‘good’ or ‘bad’, I’m glad I’ve been praising him so much… perhaps I’m
now fostering the self-esteem that, later on, such tests will measure.
I
posed the possibility to Brummelman. He said that this experiment
hadn’t been done, but he tended to agree, speculating that ‘inflated
praise might not be harmful and could even be helpful in early childhood
because young children typically hold unrealistically positive
expectations for future performance. When they receive inflated praise,
they might perhaps feel able to meet the high standards set for them,
and thus seek more challenges.’
So my son likely has positive
expectations for future performance – good! I hope he continues along
those lines. I myself took another path: once I left my parents’ house
for college, my cheeks would start burning as soon as I raised my hand
to speak in class. So I didn’t raise it much. The blushing continued
when bosses addressed me directly throughout my 20s. I wish I’d had
better self-esteem. I’ve known people whose confidence has outstripped
their knowledge or intelligence, and I’m not sure that it’s really hurt
them in life. A study led last year by Jessica Kennedy, then at the
Wharton School at the University of Pennsylvania, found that people who
project confidence, even when they don’t perform well at the task in
question, are perceived by others to be skilled and also of higher
social status on average. Some complain that too many people are
overconfident these days, but it seems to be working for them.
‘The child determines how parents behave. There is a complex feedback loop in which biology and behaviour are intertwined’
I’m
also not convinced that the source of my self-esteem deficit was
anything my parents did or didn’t do. So why should I fear ruining my
son? Other adults are raising him too, as well as other children and
peers, plus he’s raising himself, and all of this is occurring in a
world in constant flux.
And here’s where the third wrinkle in the
anti-praise argument appears: worrying about one’s own behaviour as a
parent reflects a misunderstanding about the many influences at work on a
child’s development. Parenting is a two-way dynamic, one influenced by
the environment and genes of both the parent and the child. In fact, a
meta-study by Ashlea Klahr and colleagues at Michigan State University
published in
Psychological Bulletin in 2014 found that genetic
influences account for anywhere from 23 per cent to 40 per cent of the
variance among three basic measures of parenting behaviours: warmth,
control, and negativity, each associated with such future outcomes as
antisocial behaviour, anxiety, and substance abuse. Warmth, as you’d
imagine, is a big predictor of good outcomes (lower rates of behavioural
problems, anxiety or depression, and more academic readiness and
success) and includes verbal expression of affection. This is some of
the strongest evidence yet that genes play a big role in parenting
behaviour and in the child that results.
Most striking, however,
was the evidence found to support how a child’s own characteristics
affect a parent’s style – in other words, beyond the influence of genes,
the child him or herself determines how the parent behaves. This is a
complex feedback loop in which biology and behaviour are intertwined,
and it is different for each parent and child.
It’s an argument
for an individualised approach. ‘You should think about your own
characteristics, and the things that bother you, and then develop a
parenting style and strategy that fits both you and your child,’ Klahr
told me. ‘If you’re trying to do something that doesn’t feel natural to
you as a parent, it’s going to be difficult and make the process more
stressful for you. We know of some things for certain that are good for
children, and some things that are bad, but there is a lot of room in
the middle for individual differences.’
Especially if you see
praise as a motivator for healthy change, Klahr suggests tracking how
you’re doing in terms of eliciting positive behaviours from your child
and even writing it down to analyse what’s working and what’s not
working. ‘Conduct a mini study in your own family,’ she said.
Which is exactly what the New York University sociology professor Dalton Conley chronicles in his funny book
Parentology (2014).
After he spent years bribing his son and daughter with gummy bears,
video-game time and cash to get them to do additional math problems, his
daughter got more and more into reading and literature, and less
interested in mathematics, while his son stopped reading fiction and
researched fractals in his own time. ‘Thus, I had plied one academic
arena (math) with extrinsic rewards and left another (reading) devoid of
such contamination, but in the end, the presence or absence of a reward
system did little to affect their passion for the subject matter.’ In
other words, the praise heaped on one child will have a different effect
on another, depending on their interests, their personalities, the
parent’s interests and the parent’s personalities, among other factors.
‘We’d
never want to say praise is bad,’ Klahr said. ‘We want parents to
praise. We know that positive reinforcement – noticing and praising good
behaviour – leads to optimal outcomes, and that harsh, unpredictable
discipline leads to increased rates of behavioural problems,
parent-child conflict, and depression.’
So
the idea that praise or lack of it alone can help your child succeed is
overblown. Instead, the Cornell University child psychologist Kenneth
Barish insists that the real problem is criticism. ‘I have met many
discouraged, angry, and unhappy children. I have met demoralised kids
who were unable to sustain effort when they encountered even mild
frustration or disappointment, and others who had developed attitudes of
entitlement. And the culprit is not praise, but criticism. Most of
these children were over-criticised; very few were overpraised.’
The
backlash against overblown self-esteem gained strength because it
showed that it was counterproductive: coddled kids who were always
applauded grew up not knowing how to self-correct their behaviour, not
knowing how to deal with rejection and failure. They lacked grit, and
grit, researchers now say, is the real key to success. But how am I to
raise my son in a way that will put the odds of success in his favour
when I don’t know what will be needed in our rapidly changing world?
I
grew up playing classical violin and studying diligently. I went to a
great university and grad school, and have worried quite a bit about the
future for as long as I can remember. My husband took school very
lightly, played music and composed it without being bothered by the fact
that he doesn’t know how to read notes, went to art school in lieu of a
university, and has long had an abiding sense that he is a lucky person
whose future will work out well, no matter what. We’ve both had
disappointments and triumphs and, as far as I can mentally compile all
the factors one might use to judge success, I’d say our prospects for
worldly success are roughly the same. Which of us should be my son’s
role model? The fact that he is a ‘he’ might hold some weight. Following
mine and my husband’s pattern, men generally estimate their abilities
to be higher than women do, even in experiments where their actual
abilities are about the same. Yet girls are more socialised, helped by
the world at large. My son might need extra praise to acquire good
manners, but still end up more sure of himself than his female peers
whether I praise him or not.
All this data
sheds some light. I resolve to be more specific in my praise from now
on, and to point out my son’s effort in defiling the furniture rather
than his natural flair for choosing interesting crayon colours with
which to do so. But the walls are his. For now I’ll let him watch
cartoons, put a cookie in his outstretched hand and watch the slow
progression of his smile into full jack-o’-lantern, admire his
concentration as he colours, and praise him when he’s done.
‘Of
all the things that could go wrong,’ Khlar said, ‘overpraising is not
something parents should be stressed out about. Really, the only way you
can go wrong with praising a toddler is if you say “Good job!” after
they’ve done something you don’t want them to do.’
Don’t most
children turn out fine? Won’t my son figure out that walls are not to be
coloured on someday, no matter what I do or don’t do now? Let me bask
in gratitude for my little boy, who, after all, might have died or could
die at any moment (ever-present awareness of that fact
is the
maternal instinct). I’d at least like to fatten him up, emotionally
speaking, before the cruel world starts to eat away at him.
 |
| AND YOU KNOW THAT'S EXACTLY WHAT I WOULD DO! |
is a journalist and former features editor at
Psychology Today. Her work has appeared in
Discover and
Scientific American Mind, among others. She is the author of
Friendfluence (2013).
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