Tag Archives: Stephen Grosz

#1000Speak for Compassion

#1000Speak for Compassion

Today is the day that over 1000 bloggers have answered the call to unite in dedicating a post to and voicing an awareness of the need for compassion. The call is to “flood the blogosphere with good”. I am adding my voice to the number.

In my most recent post Who cares anyway? I linked to a TED talk by Joan Halifax.

In her talk Halifax explains that compassion is good for us, it enlivens us and makes us resilient, it also develops our immunity. She asks “if compassion is so good for us, I have a question. Why don’t we train our children in compassion?

I think Halifax’s question is an excellent one. It has great appeal and interest to me as an educator. In this and one or two future posts I will explore and provide suggestions for developing compassion.

Early last year I introduced you to psychologist Daniel Goleman, author of Emotional Intelligence, in a post entitled The importance of emotional intelligence,

In this post I will share some Goleman’s thoughts about compassion from his TED talk “Why aren’t we more compassionate?

In the talk Daniel talks about a study into the reasons why, when we have many opportunities to help, we don’t always do so. He suggests that one reason is that we are not focused in the right direction. He says, “if we attend to the other person, we automatically empathize, we automatically feel with them.” He suggests that if we are focused on ourselves; our own needs and problems like time constraints; then we won’t be focused on the needs of the other, and are therefore less likely to help, less likely to be compassionate.

This issue of attention has been raised previously on my blog, including in the guest post written by Anne Goodwin Examining Praise which discussed the work of psychoanalyst Stephen Grosz.  Paying full attention to the other seems to be the best form of praise as it means really tuning in to the other. It is only by that tuning in, by attending to the other than any real understanding, and therefore compassion can be felt.

In his talk about compassion, Goleman says that the differences between focusing on self and focusing on the other can be subtle, but he urges us to be mindful of them. He talks about atrocities being done because the perpetrator was able to “turn off” the part of himself that would feel empathy. If that part had not been turned off, the actions would have been impossible.

He goes on to talk about “the possibilities of a compassionate consumerism”, pointing out that everything we buy has hidden consequences. He says that often “we’re oblivious to the ecological and public health and social and economic justice consequences of the things we buy and use.”

 

 

 

 

 

These hidden consequences are something that I am learning to be mindful of, but although I use my Shop ethical supermarket and Sustainable Seafood guides, I know that I still have a long way to go to be truly ethical and, as a consequence, compassionate in all my purchases.

He talks about “Stuff: The Secret Lives of Everyday Things” a book about sustainable living that “draws the reader’s attention to the domino effect of consumption and explores the possibility that “less stuff can mean more happiness. Hearing about that brought me to The Secret Life of Things website which is full of great information to help each of us make more informed choices.

Goleman raises a lot of interesting issues regarding compassion. I urge you to watch his entire video. There is sure to be at least one idea worthy of your further consideration. Goleman concludes the video saying that all it takes to get people to act compassionately is “that simple act of noticing, and so I’m optimistic.”

Goleman says that compassion is implicit to TED talks. There are many others about compassion. You can find a list of them here.

For me, Daniel’s talk highlights the fact that there are many ways of expressing compassion. Some are of those ways affect people who are near to us, and the effects are clearly visible. Others have a more lasting impact upon people we may never see, but for whom the effects can be just as, if not more, life changing.

Two important actions we can begin implementing immediately, and which we can model for children to implement, in order to become more compassionate are:

Pay attention

  • be more attentive to others
  • take notice of those around us
  • give our full attention to those we engage with by focusing on what they are saying rather than what we can say next

Consume ethically

become aware of hidden consequences:

  • to others who are engaged in the production processes
  • to the environment
  • to the long-time economy

 

In future posts I will explore further suggestions for developing compassion.

Thank you

Thank you for reading. I value your feedback. Please share your thoughts about any aspect of this post. Please visit  #1000Speak for Compassion to read many more thoughts and suggestions about Compassion.

Use the ripple effect to spread compassion around.

 

 

Examining praise: Stephen Grosz – the third instalment!

Guest post by Anne Goodwin (Annethology)

Earlier this year, after reading 7 Reasons Why Lovers of Fiction Should Read The Examined Life by Stephen Grosz on Anne Goodwin’s writing blog, I decided the book sounded too good to resist and promptly listened to it as an audiobook on my commute to and from work.

I was delighted with Anne’s recommendation, and like her, found the book compelling reading and thought provoking. So much so that I wrote a post about it: A book worth reading: Stephen Grosz “The Examined Life”.

However the chapter that captured my attention and challenged my thinking more than any other was the one about praise. I also blogged about this: Seeking praise: Stephen Grosz revisited.

My post about praise got Anne Goodwin thinking further about this issue and she was able to delve into it more deeply with her background in psychology. She has very generously written this guest post to share her thoughts.

Thanks Anne – over to you:

Although I was enchanted by The Examined Life from the first page, I glossed over the chapter on praise. Reading primarily for the parallels between these therapeutic case studies and reading and writing fiction, I didn’t stop to analyse my reaction, to acknowledge I was challenged by the suggestion that praise could be detrimental. Perhaps I dismissed this chapter as a reaction to the rarefied atmosphere of that cosy part of North London that is the hub of British psychoanalysis. In my neck of the woods, as reflected in my flash fiction piece, Peace-and-Quiet Pancake, I’m more concerned about a shortage of praise and encouragement than an excess.

I was initially disappointed when Norah mentioned on Twitter that, with over thirty chapters to choose from, she’d decided to blog about the chapter on praise. Yet her wonderful post showed me what I’d missed in my initial (defensive) reading and inspired me to go back to the book and ponder the depths of wisdom within those four and a half pages for myself.

“Stephen Grosz calls into question where our ideas of good practice originate.”

In suggesting we rethink what’s best for our children, Stephen Grosz calls into question where our ideas of good practice originate. We tend to respond to the mistakes of our forebears by striving to do the opposite, so those of us who suffered from a dearth of praise ourselves might be inclined to lavish praise on the next generation. Yet we can become so fixated on turning our backs on the approaches we know from experience to be unhelpful, we’re blinded to the potential pitfalls of the alternative path. Cutting back on praise feels treacherous, like siding with the harsh disciplinarians of days gone by. Stephen Grosz points us towards a third way.

“Behavioural strategies are invaluable for introducing the necessary structures and routines in which children can prosper and learn.”

Behavioural psychology shows that targeted rewards, either tangible, or intangible like praise, increase the frequency of desired behaviours. Rewards are actually most effective when they’re doled out intermittently, which might be one argument (although not the author’s) for soft-pedalling on the praise. Behavioural strategies are invaluable for introducing the necessary structures and routines in which children can prosper and learn. However, they can also result in the over-controlled and compliant child, one who is well versed in pleasing adults but struggles to think for him or herself.

“Stephen Grosz suggests that parents and educators can become as addicted to praise as these children.”

Stephen Grosz suggests that parents and educators can become as addicted to praise as these children. The mother who continually tells her child she is good might be vicariously praising herself. Underlying this might be a lack of confidence in her own parenting skills and a difficulty accepting her child as a separate person, with potentially different values and preferences. This is unlikely to enhance the child’s confidence and self-esteem.

“He also cautions us to be wary of praising children for what they are rather than for what they do.”

He also cautions us to be wary of praising children for what they are rather than for what they do. He cites a study in which, consistent with attribution theory, children praised for their effort rather than their intelligence, developed a more positive approach to problem solving. We can always put in more effort, but if we believe success is down to stable and unchangeable factors we might be less resilient in the face of the failure we will all, however talented, meet at some point in our lives.

“a third position where the adult is benignly attentive to the child and curious about what he/she is doing.”

What the author recommends is not a return to a pedagogy of threat and punishment, but a third position where the adult is benignly attentive to the child and curious about what he/she is doing. The child who believes that an adult is genuinely interested in their ideas, thoughts and feelings, is likely to develop a strong sense of agency and self-worth. While this might seem a radical approach, it’s not dissimilar to the behaviour of a tuned-in mother who watches over and mirrors her baby’s moves. It’s also the stance taken by the psychoanalytically orientated psychotherapist.

This is familiar ground for me, but I didn’t recognise it on an initial reading. Having already decided I loved the book from hearing snippets on the radio, I was reading it for what I could praise. I hope it wasn’t empty praise, but I was unwilling to engage with parts that were hard to swallow. On the second reading, my stance flipped to critical, almost punitive, focusing more on what was missing from the chapter than what was actually there. Now this process of putting my thoughts into words has brought me towards the position of curiosity and attentiveness I wish I’d had first time round. Whilst other readers might be less defensive, it does make me wonder, if it’s a struggle to reach this position in relation to a text, how difficult might it be to apply this learning in the real world and on a larger scale?

“While parents, politicians and educationalists might all claim to value individual expression and personal growth, this has to be weighed against an equally strong pressure for the achievement of standardised performance goals.”

On a sociopolitical level, we might resist this understanding because of conflicting views as to what education is for. While parents, politicians and educationalists might all claim to value individual expression and personal growth, this has to be weighed against an equally strong pressure for the achievement of standardised performance goals.

On the individual level, as Stephen Grosz says in his final paragraph, being present with others is hard work. Therapists have their own therapy in addition to training and supervision; parents striving to do a similar job with only their experience of their own parenting to draw on could struggle to find the position of attentiveness beyond both praise and chastisement.

“Children who have never been praised, even for attributes outside their control, might have no concept of their own ability to impact on their environment.”

Furthermore, for the child entering school knowing only neglect and criticism, a teacher’s benign curiosity could be experienced as threatening, just as the neutrality of therapist can provoke anxiety in his or her client. Children who have never been praised, even for attributes outside their control, might have no concept of their own ability to impact on their environment. Does the busy classroom teacher have the resources to be truly present with them in the way they require?

Thanks, Norah, for challenging me to revisit this chapter and for the invitation to rework my comment into a guest post. For those who’ve had the patience to stay present this far, I look forward to your reactions.

Thank you Anne for the insight and challenge you have offered with much for us to think about.

I reiterate Anne’s invitation for you, the reader, to share your thoughts on this topic, and suggest you head on over to Anne Goodwin’s writing blog (Annethology) for a great assortment of interesting fare.