It was a terrifying soiree: a famous novelist, a fierce newspaper commentator,
various other ambitious, successful and opinionated individuals - and me. As
the guests arrived, we were shown to the drawing room. Champagne was served
and polite conversation entered into. I was being roundly patronised by an
American academic when the mistress of the house coughed genteely. Before we
proceeded to dinner, she informed us, her progeny had prepared a little
entertainment.
We all sat. Glasses were replenished, and in padded two pyjama-clad children.
One sat at the piano, the other took up a flute. After a brief pause, they
proceeded to make the most excruciating noise imaginable. Really, a terrible
racket. We were transfixed with horror and fascination. The American
academic closed his eyes and adopted an attitude of ambiguous contemplation.
I tried very hard not to catch the eye of my husband, as I knew this would
precipitate a fit of the giggles. The parents gazed on in rapt adoration.
Eventually, the cacophony ceased. We applauded enthusiastically. Too
enthusiastically. The eldest child beamed with pride and proposed an encore.
We protested - we couldn't possibly take up any more of her time, it was
late, she must go to bed. But no. She insisted. Dinner, when it finally
came, was a blessed relief.
Such a scenario is precisely the kind of thing that Professor Jean Twenge, of
the San Diego State University, might disapprove of. Her latest study,
published last week, has identified a clear change in the attitudes of
modern youngsters. Twenge and her colleagues compared two groups of
university-aged students: one from 1975 and one from 2006. Based on their
responses, she discovered that not only was the class of 2006 significantly
more self-assured of their academic ability, they were also more confident
that they would succeed beyond formal education, as parents, spouses and
workers.
This, she concluded, is a generation that appears to consider itself without
compare, capable of anything, confident in its ability to succeed and
consequently setting itself up for a fall. Such an undesirable outcome, it
is argued, has been brought about, at least in part, by the attitude of
their baby-boomer parents who, unlike earlier generations of parents, have
tended to be gentle, supportive and encouraging.
It's an irresistible image: a society so softened by wealth and creature
comforts that it has produced a group of offspring entirely unaware of its
shortcomings. It has been dubbed the “Smug Generation”, as distinct from the
“Me Generation”, whose members are more obsessed with winning The X Factor,
or posting photographs of themselves on Bebo.
Already, there appears to be a consensus emerging: these youngsters are
undeserving, spoilt, grotesque. Cue much muttering of
“it-wasn't-like-that-in-my-day”. As tempting as this theory may be, it
represents just one side of a sociological argument - an argument that is
strongly polarised. For every expert who agrees with Twenge, there appear to
be several who categorically do not.
Sue Jenner, a clinical psychologist and author of The Parent/Child Game, has
worked with troubled children all her professional life and is baffled, not
to say a little incensed, that the idea of bringing up a child to be
self-confident could somehow be construed as negative. “This report seems to
centre around this disapproval of young people being happy,” she says.
“What, do we want them to be miserable? What's wrong with being satisfied
with who you are? I never had a patient who was unhappy because their
parents had praised them too much - it was always the other way round.”
Alfie Kohn, the author of Punished by Rewards and a leading thinker on issues
of childhood and education in America, goes even farther.
“The claim that kids today have greater self-esteem is dubious,” he says, “as
is the belief that parents are more permissive than in earlier generations.
No study has ever shown this.”
Why then does Twenge's work capture the public's imagination so? “Even
generally liberal people have a very dark view of children and are keen to
find confirmation that they need more control,” Kohn says. “In fact, we have
reason to believe that children are over-controlled. In terms of what
children are like, for every spoilt brat there are hundreds of examples of
children being abused. The real problem today is not permissiveness - it's a
fear of permissiveness.”
This, according to Kohn, leads parents to control their children with a flawed
system of reward and punishment (as exemplified by the mass popularity of
television shows such as Supernanny), when it is far more efficient - and
healthy - to simply learn to engage with children on a human level, and use
a combination of empathy and praise.
“The best parents pay careful attention and try to imagine life from their
child's point of view,” Kohn says. “You want your kids to feel that they
have a real say in what happens - and you want them to be compassionate and
concerned about the needs of others.” The public's response to Twenge's
report highlights the confusion surrounding young people today. On the one
hand, our collective fear of illiteracy, bullying and gang culture; on the
other, the idea that youngsters can be too slick, too self-assured, too
successful even.
As for parents, what are we supposed to do? The messages are so mixed, it's a
wonder we're not all paralysed by fear and indecision. One thing's for sure:
the idea of a supportive, nurturing environment being conducive to general
sanity and success has long been accepted.
Malcolm Gladwell's new book - Outliers: The story of Success (Allen Lane) - in
which he examines the secrets of high achievers, cites the work of Lewis
Terman, an American psychologist from the early part of the 20th century.
Having identified 1,470 Californian children with IQs of more than 140,
Terman discovered that all the ones who were successful in their adult lives
came from predominately stable, often middle-class families, where they were
encouraged to be assertive and inquisitive. Thus he highlighted a very
important truth: that social self-confidence maximises an individual's
chances of success.
The key, however, is balance. If too much praise and encouragement leads to
over self-confidence, that can translate into apathy and arrogance.
For example, a child whose parents foster the belief that he or she is
cleverer than all the other children in the class risk having a situation
where their offspring believes that they don't need to bother with homework.
And since there have been many studies showing that, while intelligence
certainly counts, it is practice that makes all the difference - and it
follows that too much self-confidence can have a negative effect. The
formula goes something like this: warm and nurturing environment equals
social self-confidence, which, when added to practical intelligence and
sustained effort, results in success.
If Twenge is right, and young people today are suffering from a surfeit of
self-confidence, does it follow that they will also be smug, ineffectual and
lazy?
Jenner, for one, is unperturbed: “Our parents are one of the biggest
influences on our own parenting methods,” she says. “So if this generation
turns out happier and goes on to bring up even happier children, then so be
it.”
But is too much confidence not obnoxious? “Maybe,” she says, “but I think
there may be an element of generational jealousy here. The older generation
is always resentful of the younger one.”
She has a point. When I look at some of the 20-year-olds in our office, I am
amazed (and jealous) at how focused and self-possessed they seem to be. When
I was their age, I was far too busy being miserable and gazing at my own
navel to do anything sensible with my life. So what if they think that
making my cup of tea (Earl Grey, please, no sugar and just a dash of milk)
is beneath them: they will learn.
All young people have some stuffing knocked out of them when they enter the
real world, it's part of the inevitable process of becoming a grown-up. Is
it really so bad if this generation happens to have that little bit of extra
padding?
Get the balance right
A father once told me that he could not bear for his children to lose at board
games, so he always deliberately let them win. I was gob-smacked. Life is
not about winning all the time, it's about being able to pick yourself up
again when you don't.
I see children, particularly in aspirational families, who are told that they
are the best and will be the best. Of course, these children are very
bright, but it creates a sense of arrogance and a lack of humanity. It's
about encouraging your child and wanting the best things for them, but
learning to say no and to set boundaries. Otherwise you are pushing your
child so hard that it gives a superficial markers of what makes a good human
being - going to the best school and making lots of money.
We've gone from a Victorian era in which children were never listened to and
were raised in fear, to a situation where a lot of parents raise their
children on negotiation. We now have clear messages on not smacking, which I
support of course, but it has made parents very over-conscious about
discipline. Many know what they want to do with their child, but feel that
they need permission in case being tough sometimes will destroy their
child's self-esteem. The children are effectively parenting themselves,
and this can make them feel extremely powerful. I've had four-year-olds come
in to see me who say: “I'm in charge. I decide what to eat, and when I go to
bed.”
If you praise a child all the time, the praise becomes meaningless and the
child is desensitised. Target your praise. It's important to build
resilience. Don't be afraid to be honest with your child if they are not
good at something, and help them to improve. Learning is about trial and
error. If they get angry, ignore it - let them learn their role in the
family, which is part of a team. It is not always about them; they can't
always have their own way.
Dr Tanya Byron
Case history: Smug? Moi?
Shane Rounce, 19, Sheffield
I'm really confident but everyone says I'm arrogant too. They say I think I
know everything. It's just that if I'm talking about something, it's because
I know lots about it.
I used to live with my dad and he was quite strict, but now I've moved in with
my mum. She says “I love you” way too often. Occasionally, I say it back -
if it's deserved. We get on most of the time, except when she asks me to do
something with no personal gain for me. I don't get any recognition from her
for anything I do. I run several websites and that's impressive for my age.
In secondary school I'd get excluded for two weeks every year for fighting.
But they kept taking me back. I wasn't charming and witty as I am now, so it
must have been my good grades. Sixth-form college was like Facebook in real
life. I have worked hard and got good grades and I can't think of a time
when I haven't deserved the praise I've got.
