Nobody likes being told they're dumb. But being praised up and down for one's intelligence carries its own price, according to research by Stanford psychologist Carol Dweck and her research team.
In the current issue of New York Magazine, writer Po Bronson summarizes Dweck's work, which indicates that children who are frequently told that they are smart give up more easily, become risk-averse, and grow overly concerned with "image maintenance." Bronson describes Dweck's methods:
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.
Dweck's work is remarkable for indicating how sensitive childrens' minds are—a single line of adult commentary can have a measurable effect on a child's feelings and behavior. In a school of academically-challenged eighth-graders, Dweck has shown that a single fifty-minute class including "a special modlue on how intelligence is not innate" had a positive effect on students' study habits—and final grades—over a whole semester.
Bronson quotes Harvard social psychologist Dr. Mazharin Banaji as saying, "Carol Dweck is a flat-out genius. I hope the work is taken seriously."
Read the full story in New York Magazine
Hat tip: Arts & Letters Daily
Image: iStockPhoto


Comments
"Bronson quotes Harvard social psychologist Dr. Mazharin Banaji as saying, 'Carol Dweck is a flat-out genius.'"
Oh, real smooth, Dr. Banaji. Now Dweck will spend the rest of her career doing safe, easy research so as not to ruin her 'genius' rep.
Posted by: Scott Simmons | February 15, 2007 5:59 PM
Ha! Touche.
Posted by: Katherine Sharpe | February 15, 2007 6:16 PM
When I was in first grade the teacher asked us what we did last summer. A girl who'd visited the South said she'd seen trees with flowers big as dinner plates. The teacher shouted harshly, "Flowers don't grow on trees!" The girl protested, but the teacher shouted her down, making her cry, and giving me a good scare.
In 9th grade biology, I got something wrong on a test about trees being flowering plants.
In college, I also was certain trees did not have flowers, despite biology courses.
After college, I went to an allergist who found I was allergic to the pollen of maples and oaks. I said, "Trees don't have flowers." He looked at me like I was an idiot. When I got home, the maples in my front yard had little tiny yellow-green flowers. I knew maples produced winged seeds, so they must have flowers to propagate by seeds. And oaks had acorns ... well, duh.
All this occurred where the state tree is the flowering dogwood.
And so a single harsh remark can have lasting consequences.
I later learned that the ancient Greeks understood catechism as the practice of teaching children by shouting at them. The loud severe adult voice shortcuts normal reasoning and promotes uncritical rote memorization. This practice finds use today in training young children in madrassas and older children in militaries.
Posted by: Roy | February 15, 2007 7:04 PM
The article notes research by Dweck indicating that a single period of intervention teaching kids that intelligence was not innate performed better in school. It says it was printed in last week's Child Development. Does anyone have access to this article as I'd love to read it? My local library doesn't subscribe and it looks like you need to pay to read online.
Posted by: JYB | February 16, 2007 12:12 AM
Roy, that's a really good point (illustrated by a really good story). Interesting, too, about the shouting. My parents weren't shouters, in fact the only time I was shouted at that I can remember was by my dad, when I was in imminent physical danger ("Get out of the road!" and stuff like that.) It did, indeed, make an impression that I can still remember, with an almost physical jolt, to this day.
Posted by: katherine sharpe | February 16, 2007 10:59 AM
So what is the impact of praise and the results of the "50 minute class" on the REALLY smart kids, not just the annointed "smart kids"?
Posted by: J-Dog | February 16, 2007 12:22 PM