Skip to main content

Idiot Compassion and Wise Compassion: Which One Are We Reaching For?

 



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 teenagers over time. The message that they needed to be rescued. That they couldn't handle it on their own. That we didn't trust them to.

Psychologist Wendy Mogel, who spent decades working with adolescents, talks about how over-involved parenting quietly communicates to teenagers that the world is a place they can't manage without us. Which is the opposite of what we're trying to do.

Wise compassion is the alternative, but it is much harder.   Especially with teenagers, especially when they are genuinely upset, especially when they are being rude. Wise compassion is essentially staying in the room without taking over the room. It's tolerating their distress without trying to resolve it. It's saying something like that sounds really painful and not following it up with a solution.

Research on adolescent development is consistent on this. Teenagers who are allowed to navigate difficulty, with a regulated adult nearby, build genuine resilience.  The capacity to face something hard and discover they didn't fall apart. Carol Dweck's work on growth mindset points to the same thing.  Struggling and persisting through difficulty is precisely how our teens develop the belief that they are capable. We cannot give them that belief by protecting them from the very thing that creates it.

A helpful question might be: Whose discomfort am I managing right now — theirs or mine?

 

 


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Why do we suddenly feel about 12 when we arrive home for Christmas

  If we are lucky, we had pretty good childhoods — some messy bits, some lovely bits — and yet heading back to our family home can still bring up a lot of tricky feelings. We walk through the door, smell something familiar, hear the same old jokes, and suddenly we feel a bit different. A bit younger. A bit touchier. A bit more sensitive. If that happens to you, it doesn’t mean anything is wrong. It’s simply how our brains work. When we return to places where we learned, grew, argued, and at least partially became who we are, our bodies remember the emotional atmosphere of those years. Psychologists call this “state-dependent memory,” and what it means is that certain rooms, voices, and routines wake up old emotional patterns — even if our adult lives feel stable and healthy. Our families also have a way of nudging us back into our old roles without meaning to. Maybe we were the bossy one, or the peacemaker, or the “easy” child who didn’t make waves. We might not play those role...

Parenting: Looking Back on a Tricky Christmas with Teens.

  In my clinic, in the weeks after Christmas, a familiar pattern often emerges in conversations with parents of teenagers. There is disappointment that time together felt tense rather than warm, or that connection seemed harder to reach. Many of us find ourselves wondering whether this is simply how things are now, or whether something has gone wrong. For families with teenagers, a difficult Christmas is not a sign of failure. Christmas amplifies everything. Routines fall away, sleep patterns change, social demands increase, and private space shrinks. At the same time, expectations rise. As parents, we desperately want closeness, fun, and shared moments. For our teens — who are already managing heightened emotions and a growing need for independence — this combination can feel overwhelming. Developmental psychology helps make sense of this. We know our teens experience emotions more intensely than we do, and we know the brain systems responsible for emotional regulation, impulse co...

The Rage to Master: Reminding Teens That Not All Effort Is Equal

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 ...