Saturday, September 19, 2009

Parental love as manipulation

The other day, D sent me a link to this article about parenting in the Times on-line. She commented that it was pretty much obvious, common-sense stuff, and that she couldn't imagine anybody thinking anything different. But somehow that sounded to me like an oversimplification.

In one respect the article poses a big challenge: explaining each situation and imagining it from the child's point of view work well enough much of the time with some children, but there are other children for whom they work less well and even the most cooperative children have occasional bouts of misplaced stubbornness. What is a parent then to do? Well, there are still a variety of options open, but I expect that the "experts" who recommend the withdrawal of affection do so in order thereby to avoid having to recommend a swat on the tuchus. And for what it is worth, I expect that when Albert Bandura said (as the article quotes him) that unconditional love would make a child unlovable, what he must have meant is "unconditional pampering" -- which is quite a different thing.

Of course the real answer is that it all depends: on the child, on the age, on the circumstances, on how often this or that technique is used, etc. A rare and well-timed swat delivered during the early years only will have a different psychological effect from interminable physical abuse up to the age the child leaves home; likewise, I assume that Mom stalking off once or twice in a huff will have a different effect from long-term emotional manipulation. (My own parents used both of these techniques at one time or another, but I never once doubted that they loved me and my brother unconditionally.) One thing I have had to remind myself over and over again is that child-rearing may be the hardest job in the world, but it is very rarely a "one-strike-and-you're-out" endeavor. There is often (maybe not always) room to pick yourself up and try to be better next time.

I also spent some time thinking about Wife's mother, and how she raised Wife and her sisters. The thing is that Wife's mother certainly used affection as a tool; but she was also highly inconsistent in giving rewards. She once told ... somebody, I forget who related this story ... that it was almost physically impossible for her to say anything nice about anybody while that person could hear her; but she could praise to the skies somebody who was safely out of the room, ending her encomia with "Why can't you be more like that?" This meant, for example, that each sister thought that she alone was uniquely despised and the other two were the spoiled apples of their mother's eye. On the other hand, Wife's mother would also confide little secrets to each daughter and make her swear not to tell the others. The message seemed to be, "You are a singular disappointment to me and I wish you had been more like your sisters; but in spite of all that we share a special bond that means I can trust you with this secret when I can't trust the others." I have to add that when those secrets (some of them) finally saw the light of day, they contradicted each other: she told this daughter one thing and the other the exact opposite with no apparent qualms. But by then the damage had long since been done. It made for some difficult family dynamics.

Now it has also been documented that inconsistent reward is often more motivating than consistent reward: the child (or rewardee) will work double and triple hard to force a reward. So I wonder if this could account for Wife's strong beliefs about, e.g., housework (that it is a moral imperative, that it has to be done exactly like this) ... combined with a bitterness (because of the inconsistency, and because of the withdrawal of affection) that whispers to her "You may know this has to be done, but you'll be damned if you're going to do it." And I wonder, come to that, if it could account for much of the resentment and distrust that Wife seems to feel in any long-term close relationship.

Maybe not. Maybe I am just making this a one-size-fits-all theory.

I sent some of these musings to D. She had a number of comments on the general issue of parenting -- unlike me, she does not think it is the hardest job in the world -- but then she went on as follows: "I don't know quite how to react to Wife's stories about her mother. You just have to break free from people who are irredeemably evil, and it always seemed to me that Wife almost enjoyed the uncertainty and constant criticism she received from her mother. Perhaps if she had sought out loving parents, people like your mother, to learn from and emulate, she might be very different today. A powerful teacher and model can truly shape a life, even one as broken and damaged as Wife's. She was given so many chances... a good mind, a great college education, a loving and true husband, beautiful and gifted children, and financial resources beyond anything she dreamed of as a child. It has all been seed on rocky soil, or thrown into weeds. No genuine compassion or sacrifice or love for God or others has developed to improve the world and bring joy to herself. It seems unbelievably sad, and a genuine tragedy."

A genuine tragedy, indeed.

1 comment:

janeway said...

Having grown up in a household in which parental love was equated with parental approval, I now subscribe to the belief that my love for children is unconditional. I will love them no matter what.

All that means is that my love for them is not contingent upon how they behave. My approval, however, is another matter. Now that they are adults - or nearly - my kids have told me that I was very strict (note that Dad is not in this mix at all) but they're glad that I was. I don't think they ever doubted I loved them.