YOU TIED YOUR SHOES ALL BY YOURSELF? AND YOU'RE ONLY ELEVEN?

From: Day of the dad (Tom Leonard, The telegraph, February 15th, 2007)

Telling children they are clever only discourages them from trying to do anything where they might fail. Children who are told they are "smart" learn to concentrate on appearing smart. They try to avoid difficult challenges for fear of embarrassment and - in the tests - ended up performing much worse than children simply congratulated for "trying hard".

Nothing terrifies a New York parent more than the thought that their carefully laid schooling plans might come unstuck. The study contains some further uncomfortable truths - namely that showering praise on the kids has been a panacea for the uncertainties of modern parenting and that parents who lavish praise on pre-school children are actually subconsciously praising themselves.

Given that an estimated 85 per cent of Americans believe it's important to tell their children they are intelligent - and British parents cannot be far behind - this study has lessons for us all. But particularly for New York moms and pops who tend to tell their children they are a genius for everything short of breathing.

"Positive reinforcement" is more deeply embedded in the city's mindset than even zero tolerance. And there's none of that British reserve and tendency to offset any compliment directed towards one of our offspring by instantly providing one or more drawbacks of the child that the admirer may not have noticed.

The other day we saw a mother telling her little girl how clever she was just for sitting in a buggy. Last weekend, another mum almost expired with admiration after a four-year-old "did a poop" in our lavatory.

He'd just wandered in with our children while we were having drinks at his parents' apartment along the hall, and got taken short. He'd located the appropriate facilities and used them. Not exactly The Famous Five Investigates, but the mum who relayed the joyful news made it sound like a stirring tale of initiative and resourcefulness.

A thrice-yearly ritual at Casa Burnet occurs when She Who is Perfect has to write the report cards for her grade four class. She frequently asks for editing help, not because she needs grammatical or spelling assistance, but because she must master the sophisticated art of conveying to the parents that although their child can’t read or add, or is making life hell for the rest of the class, he or she is nonetheless an exceptionally bright and lovable little scamp with a potential in the stratosphere. The rules are simple. One oblique criticism must be followed by three concrete instances of lavish, unqualified praise. Try it sometime if you think that would be easy. The whole exercise usually concludes with her private explosion of rage at the parents, following which we both burst into hysterical giggles and then give thanks for how brilliant our own son is.