Effort and Praise (2007 repost)
March 2, 2007
A couple of years ago, I wrote a Friday Folder entitled "Rethinking Praise" (January 28, 2005) in which I cautioned against unwarranted praise. I pointed out how this kind of praise erodes trust in the parent-child relationship and/or teaches kids to discount their own internal compass about what is right or wrong for them. In lieu of praise, I suggested it is better to focus on engagement.
During the recent break, Margaret Miura, our Lower School Learning Specialist, forwarded me an article by Po Bronson in New York Magazine (February 19, 2007): "How Not to Talk to Your Kids." It is a great article and worth reading. In particular, there are nine paragraphs describing the research of Carol Dweck that I found so compelling that I am reprinting it here for all to read. Dweck, a Stanford professor, is the author of Mindset: The New Psychology of Success. Her research clearly takes what I wrote about praise a step further. Here is the excerpt from Bronson’s article:
"Dweck sent four female research assistants into New York fifth-grade classrooms. The researchers would take a single child out of the classroom for a nonverbal IQ test consisting of a series of puzzles -- puzzles easy enough that all the children would do fairly well. Once the child finished the test, the researchers told each student his score, then gave him a single line of praise. Randomly divided into groups, some were praised for their intelligence. They were told, “You must be smart at this.” Other students were praised for their effort: “You must have worked really hard.”
Why just a single line of praise? “We wanted to see how sensitive children were,” Dweck explained. “We had a hunch that one line might be enough to see an effect.”
Then the students were given a choice of test for the second round. One choice was a test that would be more difficult than the first, but the researchers told the kids that they’d learn a lot from attempting the puzzles. The other choice, Dweck’s team explained, was an easy test, just like the first. Of those praised for their effort, 90 percent chose the harder set of puzzles. Of those praised for their intelligence, a majority chose the easy test. The “smart” kids took the cop-out.
Why did this happen? “When we praise children for their intelligence,” Dweck wrote in her study summary, “we tell them that this is the name of the game: Look smart, don’t risk making mistakes.” And that’s what the fifth-graders had done: They’d chosen to look smart and avoid the risk of being embarrassed.
In a subsequent round, none of the fifth-graders had a choice. The test was difficult, designed for kids two years ahead of their grade level. Predictably, everyone failed. But again, the two groups of children, divided at random at the study’s start, responded differently. Those praised for their effort on the first test assumed they simply hadn’t focused hard enough on this test. “They got very involved, willing to try every solution to the puzzles,” Dweck recalled. “Many of them remarked, unprovoked, ‘This is my favorite test.’” Not so for those praised for their smarts. They assumed their failure was evidence that they weren’t really smart at all. “Just watching them, you could see the strain. They were sweating and miserable.”
Having artificially induced a round of failure, Dweck’s researchers then gave all the fifth-graders a final round of tests that were engineered to be as easy as the first round. Those who had been praised for their effort significantly improved on their first score—by about 30 percent. Those who’d been told they were smart did worse than they had at the very beginning—by about 20 percent.
Dweck had suspected that praise could backfire, but even she was surprised by the magnitude of the effect. “Emphasizing effort gives a child a variable that they can control,” she explains. “They come to see themselves as in control of their success. Emphasizing natural intelligence takes it out of the child’s control, and it provides no good recipe for responding to a failure.”
In follow-up interviews, Dweck discovered that those who think that innate intelligence is the key to success begin to discount the importance of effort. I am smart, the kids’ reasoning goes; I don’t need to put out effort. Expending effort becomes stigmatized—it’s public proof that you can’t cut it on your natural gifts.
Repeating her experiments, Dweck found this effect of praise on performance held true for students of every socioeconomic class. It hit both boys and girls—the very brightest girls especially (they collapsed the most following failure). Even preschoolers weren’t immune to the inverse power of praise."
Talk about the zen of parenting! If you want your kids to feel smart, stop telling them they are smart and instead recognize their efforts, regardless of the outcomes. Or, in the vernacular of RDS: Focusing on their efforts keeps them engaged, which prepares them to deal with difficult problems and situations, which ultimately lays the ground for inspiring acts, insights, and character.
Have a wonderful weekend!
Mike