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It is a ritual at the Morrison
home: A lone figure, usually my wife, stands patiently at the back gate. A few
feet away our pug puppy sniffs around for just the right spot.
I’m not sure how good dirt has to smell for what
she’s going to do to it, but she eventually finds an acceptable piece of real
estate and gets down to business, accompanied by wild applause and a round of
atta girls. All of which I’m sure is duly appreciated but what really puts her
tail in a beeline back to Mama is the puppy chow reward that awaits.
This is all very touching but I’m more of the
rolled-up newspaper school of housebreaking, particularly if I happen to have a
Sunday edition New York Times at hand. All the news that hits, I say.
Tough talk aside, I’m not above a bit of bribery
myself. Many years ago, in a moment of weakness, I bought my wife a dachshund
puppy. After the rascal got a dose of mange from neighborhood strays our vet
gave us a six-month regimen of pills, to be given three a day.
In retrospect I should have let the thing go
bald. The daily ordeals seemed to consume half of my waking hours, and when the
last cramming of the day was done I wasn’t much inclined to throw it a parade.
Still, I thought, maybe a small reward would
soften its resolve; the skin on my hands only grew back so fast so it was worth
a shot. As the only animal I know that is more gluttonous than a pug is a
dachshund, I began to offer it a treat after each battle. In time its struggles
became less enthusiastic, faded to token resistance, then finally to
submission. Honest to Pete, after a month all I had to do was cup the pills in
my hand and call its name. When the nasty rash was finally cured I half
expected the shrewd little shrimp to go out and attempt a relapse.
So praise and rewards have a place with animals,
but can it be overdone with children? According to a recent piece in the
aforementioned training device, maybe. The New York Times reports a growing
number of educators and psychologists now believe that routine praise for
unexceptional behavior can have unwanted results.
“Praising every time lowers a child’s
motivation,” says Dr. Ron Taffel, a psychologist and author of “Nurturing Good
Children Now.” “It cheapens the praise, and children become dependent on
praise.” Dr. Taffel says he has seen children sledding in Central Park with
parents “screaming at the top of their lungs: ‘Great job, phenomenal sledding,
that was the best I’ve ever seen.’ The children were being praised for
responding to the laws of gravity.”
Well, at least they’re obeying the law. Alfie
Kohn, an author with a dim view of constant praise, thinks it a “verbal doggie
biscuit,” which, as I’ve found, works pretty well with dogs. Kohn goes on to
liken habitual praise to stickers or gold stars, which he considers
disrespectful, manipulative and only temporarily effective.
Gold stars don’t mean much to a dachshund unless
they’re attached to a ham, but Kohn is right when it comes to kids. You can
sticker and star a kid silly, but only the internal fulfillment of genuine
achievement is sustaining. There are precious few gold stars handed out in the
real world in any event.
It doesn’t take long before most parents
discover their children are considerably more complicated than dogs, and that
you don’t learn much about raising them from training Fido. Praise certainly
has a role, but real life kudos come from real accomplishment. Pointing out the
positive results of a child’s actions (“Did you notice how relieved that lady
was when you offered her your seat?”) will bring a child more satisfaction than
praise, and for the right reasons.
It might be simpler if they were, but kids
aren’t dogs. Encourage each child according to their own talents and ability
and they’ll figure out the rest for themselves.
© 1997- 2002 Brent Morrison
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