Is There Educational Value in Punishment?

While I was leafing through one of the big magazines, my eye fell on a picture of a boy made to stand against the wall, his face turned toward his parents in anger, and beneath the picture, between parentheses, was written: "The bad boy comes from a bad family" — the boy meaning by his words that the fault was his parents' fault if he went wrong in his conduct.

This vivid picture brought back to my mind an idea I had once heard from a great educator, the gist of which is that if, every time we found need for punishment, we searched for the original cause of the offense committed, we would find that we ought to punish ourselves instead of our children. Does this saying not apply to the sentence that boy repeated in his hour of anger?

There is no doubt that every parent is pained by the memory of punishments he ordered that were not well judged. Incidents like these leave not only a painful trace with the parents, but many traces in the souls of the children; for they too, despite their young age, realize very well that the punishments were not in their proper place, and so a resentment against their parents grows up in them which greatly affects their feelings and their future conduct.

One day, on my way to the college, I passed a mother sitting with her boy on the balcony of the house, trying to feed him a dish and striking him every time he refused a mouthful. I approached her and asked her the reason for his refusing the food, and she answered in a low voice which he no doubt heard: "I hate this dish, but he has to get used to it." So I asked her again: "Have you ever mentioned in front of him that you hate it?" And she answered, having felt her mistake: "That may be so." And she stopped striking him, realizing that she was the guilty one.

This is one example among many that shows us the extent of the mistakes which we ourselves commit and then punish our children for, if they take after us. If we admitted that a child's conduct is nothing but a collection of habits formed in his early years — some of them trained into him intentionally or unintentionally, and some acquired from his companions — we would realize that the word of the great educator, which asks that the punishment fall on the parents, holds great wisdom.

Parents themselves often fall into errors which produce strange behavior in their children — behavior that, in their view, calls for punishment and severity, so they lay on the punishments with education as their aim, without searching for the cause of that objectionable behavior. If they searched first, they would find that it goes back either to a deficiency in their education of their children, or to some crookedness in their dealings with them, or to some other error they committed in ignorance of its consequences. Parents must therefore avoid these errors if they aim at the good and best upbringing, because punishments that are ill judged or excessive in severity often bring the opposite of the benefit sought: the child's waywardness increases, his conduct grows unruly, and his upbringing is spoiled. Here is an indication of some of those familiar errors:

First — the parents' feeling that they are responsible for everything their child does. This feeling breeds in them an anxious state of mind that prevents natural behavior, and creates a heavy atmosphere between them and their children which presses on the nerves of both parties.

Second — the parents' failure to realize what their child can do at a given age, so that they either ask of him tasks beyond his capacity or deprive him of tasks he could well perform. Both cases invite punishments there would be no need of, had they realized the truth of his capability.

Third — the family's attempt to change their child's personality into what they themselves desire, instead of accepting him as he is by nature. An attempt like this alters the course of his natural growth and breeds in his soul a feeling of inferiority that makes him lose his social balance, so that his nerves grow tense and his faults multiply.

Fourth — turning the child's attention upon himself is an error whose consequences are beyond counting: it makes the child difficult in temper, over-sensitive and over-alert to everything said of him, whether thanks or blame, and drives him to strange behavior with the aim of drawing attention whenever attention turns away from him, whatever that strange behavior may cost him in scoldings or punishments.

Fifth — opening numerous possibilities before children without training them in choice, and the parents' fear of refusing any request of their children's. This fear becomes a weapon in the child's hand which he uses to lead his parent on to permitting him things harmful to him; and choice without training or knowledge brings unwelcome results.

Sixth — the aimless, muddled upbringing that permits a thing at one time and punishes for it at another, without excuse or reason; that overdoes indulgence at one moment and turns arbitrary and tyrannical at another. This upbringing is among the greatest causes that make a child disobey and rebel and behave in aimless, muddled ways that only increase the parents' own confusion and lack of balance.

Seventh — excessive fear, or "sarsab" — that fear which prevents the child from doing things that give him pleasure and benefit his growth, out of watchfulness for his health, as they claim, or for fear he may hurt himself. This anxious fear deprives the child of natural sleep and natural maturing, and makes him difficult in temper and fierce in disposition.

Eighth — the parents' living for the sake of their children, instead of living with them. This spoils for the children the pleasure of the free, merry life which it is their right to live, and makes the parents lose their natural right to an independent life, so that each of the two parties becomes a burden on the other.

If parents guarded against the errors mentioned, and used their reason every time the child deserved a punishment, and searched for the cause before punishing its effect, we would have no need to enumerate the kinds of punishments and their occasions; for the most important thing to attend to is the sound upbringing that guarantees the desired conduct, and looking at the child's problems with understanding and feeling, instead of concerning ourselves with the kinds and forms of the punishments he deserves.

But since the society in which the child grows up is not an ideal society, punishment may sometimes be unavoidable, for punishment has an educational benefit that we cannot deny. Yet for punishment to have its educational benefit, it must be proportioned to the offense committed; and once the punishment has been fixed, it must be followed through to the end, because following it through, and repeating it on similar occasions, makes the child understand its purpose, and he refrains from the wayward act for fear of its repetition. Short of that, punishment can have no benefit at all; indeed it may bring the opposite of the aim sought.

I shall end this word of mine by relating an incident that makes clear to us a basic truth which we cannot overlook in judging our children,

namely, our recognition that the child has an independent personality with its own right to think, to feel, and to act for itself. The incident is this: I passed one day by a neighbor of mine and found her weeping tears of bitter pain. I approached her and asked her the cause of her weeping; at first she refused to speak, then she turned her face toward me, wiped away her tears, and said in a hoarse voice: I will tell you what I did, so that you may mock me and set me right; perhaps in that there will be some consolation for me.

I said: Speak, for unburdening brings relief.

She said: I entered my daughter's room suddenly and noticed that she grew flustered and hid something under her mattress and sat on it. I asked her the reason for her confusion and about the thing she had hidden, and she denied to me that anything was hidden — so I threatened her with harshness if she did not tell the truth, but she persisted in her denial. I struck her gently at first, then rained hard blows on her until she could no longer bear my injustice; she burst into tears and cried: "I will tell you now what I was doing when you came into my room, though I would have preferred to keep the news secret until your feast day, so that I could give you this" — and she brought out a parcel whose wrapping was not yet finished — "and it would be a lovely surprise for you. Ever since you gave me that big toy on my seventh birthday, I have been saving every penny of my pocket money until I could buy it, without asking money from Father, for fear he would give my secret away to you before its time and the charm of the gift would be lost.

She said this sobbing — not for her pain, but because I had forced her to speak and had spoiled for her the pleasure of surprising me with something wonderful. Imagine my state now, after I repaid her with this cruelty in return for that feeling toward me.

The mother fell silent a little, the telling having calmed her agitation; then she asked me, trying to lighten what she felt:

"Do you not think it is the parents' right to know everything their children do?"

I answered her: "You are not alone in this mistaken behavior, for most families among us behave in the same way, out of clinging to what they believe is a right they hold over their children. If you permit, I shall tell this story in the hearing of all parents, as a lesson to them in their conduct with their children; and if they take heed, there will be some solace in it for you.