When Praise Is Not the Answer

Praise. Universally good, right? Those of you who are fans of Alfie Kohn’s (2018) work know it isn’t. Praise comes with baggage. I (EB) was reminded of another downside by a young adult patient who sees praise as invalidating or dismissive of a person’s experience.

What about this exchange?

Person: “I can’t do it.”

Response: “Yes, you can. You are so amazing and strong.”

Generally, we would see the exchange above, especially if delivered with a warm and positive tone, as a wonderful thing to say. Is the message above an endorsement of the person’s strength? Or is the underlying message, “Stop your bellyaching and do it,” or “Since I don’t believe you can’t, I am not going to help you”?

What about this exchange?

Person: “I feel so ugly.”

Response: “Don’t feel like that. You are beautiful.”

This is a hard one. You would hardly expect a decent person to say, “Yeah, you are.” What if that is how the person truly feels? The response, though seemingly complimentary and kind, may actually be sending these messages instead: “I can’t tolerate your pain, therefore I am going to dismiss it.” Or, “You are alone. I can’t share your perspective.”

What about this last exchange?

Person: “I’m not smart.”

Response: “Yes, you are. There are different kinds of intelligences. Look how well you build with Lego.”

It is a challenging balancing act to meet these negative self-talk statements with helpful responses. When you counter the statement with a response like “you are smart,” you dismiss the person’s experience and potentially move them further from what may be their current truth. If you agree with the negative talk, you may risk further diminishing a fragile person’s self-worth, especially if they hope you will disagree.

So what should you do instead when confronted with such talk? Should you accept someone’s negative review of themselves? Here are some ideas:

1. Listen to and tolerate the negative thoughts. “What makes you think that?” It may be true. Even if it isn’t, immediately dismissing it can feel invalidating and doesn’t promote positive thinking. Resist the urge to reject it. There is power in being listened to and accepted, even when sharing painful thoughts.
2. Avoid giving examples that indicate it isn’t true. These can be seen as thinly disguised acknowledgements of the truth with minor exceptions. Early in my career, when a child patient said they weren’t smart, I would scan to find the truthful thing to say they were good at so that I could leverage this as evidence that they were wrong. Think about it. If they say “I’m not smart,” and I respond that they are creative with building Legos, it is essentially saying that they are not intelligent, but with that exception. Similarly, if someone says they are ugly and you respond by remarking on their beautiful smile, it is like saying, “Yeah, I agree, but you do have a lovely smile.”
3. Encouragement from adults is generally a positive thing, boosting children’s confidence. If you say, “You can do it,” rather than accepting the “I can’t” response (for children who really can’t), you absolve yourself of the extra effort required for responding in a way that might better serve this child’s needs. There’s nuance here. Encouraging children is an important tool when the task is within their abilities and they struggle with confidence.
4. Explore your own discomforts with self-deprecating comments from people. Do you feel a need to say something positive because it is too uncomfortable to be with someone who is struggling? Can you think about another response, such as “it’s lousy that you feel that way…” or something similar?
5. Learn to reflect back. Reflection can be very direct, as when you restate what the person is saying, or less so, as when modifying the statement while staying true to it. This is not about agreeing, as if someone said “I feel ugly” and the response was “you are ugly,” but rather a recognition of the feelings, such as “you are not feeling very attractive.” This can be an opportunity to invite further conversation.
6. Explore your own biases and values that make you need to negate their experience. Early in my own career, I overvalued intelligence and found it hard to bear when people felt they didn't have it.

This last point reminds me of a patient I saw at the start of my career. Richard (pseudonym) was an endearing 8-year-old who had gone through traumatic medical experiences. He struggled in all academic subjects. He was tested by his school and was found to demonstrate intellectual functioning in the well-below-average range. He didn’t say, “I’m not smart.” Instead, he repeatedly reported that he didn’t understand his school work, despite hours of outside tutelage. I told Richard that if he tried and put in more effort, he would get it. I meant it to be encouraging and positive.

When I think of it now, I recognize the cruelty in this that I didn’t see then. Telling someone they are not trying hard enough when they can’t do something is pointless and mean. I finally listened to him instead of talking him out of his struggle. I had discussed Richard’s academic functioning with his school. They felt he would benefit from repeating a grade in school, which I was usually opposed to. I dreaded my conversation with Richard’s parents, feeling that this would be devastating news for them. But then, neither parent was upset at all. They were relieved. “That will make it better for him.” Both parents had been retained in a grade, too, and felt that it had helped them. Richard completed anxiety-based therapy fairly quickly. With a loving and dedicated parental duo, it did not take long for him to return to his playful baseline functioning.

I was the beneficiary of something beautiful from my work with Richard and his parents. It shone a light on some of my own biases. I learned that acceptance of challenges, rather than refutation, is a benefit, as it may suggest different paths for intervention. I realized that praise that negates a person’s experience is not a gift. As time has gone on, I continue to try to sit with the painful views my patients hold about themselves, even when I wish that they didn’t suffer the way that they sometimes do.