As a clinical psychologist, I spend a lot of time sitting with people who are struggling because of something a well-meaning person did for them. Not to them. For them. There's a term in the literature for this. It's called idiot compassion; it comes from Buddhist psychology and means compassion that prioritises someone's immediate comfort over their long-term wellbeing. It feels like kindness. It looks like kindness. And it is almost always motivated by kindness. But it's also motivated by a human need to not feel helpless. As parents of teenagers, we are particularly vulnerable to this. Our teenager comes home and something has gone wrong. Maybe something has happened in their friend group, or they couldn't answer the maths question, and something in us shifts into problem-solving. We reassure, we rationalise, we problem solve. They seem okay and we feel better. This is the short-term gain. The cost of idiot compassion is the subtle message it sends our teenage...
When Alysa Liu skated at the Winter Olympics, we saw this remarkably composed young woman with exquisite technical precision. What we didn’t see on our TV screens was her relationship with skating. The long hours she spent practicing a skill she both enjoyed and steadily mastered. That combination, liking something, getting better at it, and using it to meet challenge, is a powerful engine of human motivation. This idea surfaced recently when Reese Witherspoon reflected publicly on the importance of discovering one’s talents. Her point was not about celebrity or success, but about something more ordinary and more consequential: people thrive when they find an activity that feels like a natural fit. Psychologists call this working from one’s strengths. Research in positive psychology suggests that a true strength has three features. It is something a person enjoys. It is something they do well or improve at with practice. And it is something that provides energy rather ...