Book Review: The Strong-Willed Child

Title: The Strong-Willed Child

Author: James Dobson

Date: 1978

Publisher: Tyndale

ISBN: 0-8423-6661-X

Length: 240 pages

Quote: “Most parents have at least one such youngster who seems to be born with a clear idea of how he wants the world to be operated.”

It’s James Dobson, so you know what to expect, right? Religious Right? Right! Dobson may be remembered as an advocate of physical correction for children.

I personally believe that parents have a right to use reasonable physical correction on children. I was spanked as a child, by other older people as well as my own parents, and I don't think it did me a bit of harm. In fact one of the more loving things my father ever did for me, as a child, was to knock me down flat...before I could step on a venomous snake. I'd hope I'd be able to do that for a child today. However, apart from a few obvious correctives like "Don't step on that snake" or "Don't play with matches" or "You're not allowed to hit other people," I don't remember spanking doing me any good, either. It didn't leave physical or psychic scars but it completely failed to teach me what adults wanted me to do instead of whatever I'd been doing. Before trying to justify slapping a little hand, adults need to consider what we want the child to learn. If it's "Keep the house clean," then instead of slapping the child who carelessly spills food on the floor, it makes more sense to direct the child to clean up the mess. Venting emotions at children may or may not scare them; it does distract them from absorbing information. It teaches them "Teacher doesn't like me" instead of "Kicking the back of the seat ahead of me is rude."

If you have a reasonable level of tolerance for Dobson’s school of thought, there’s still room for doubt about how useful a book about rearing children can be. Dobson can’t even claim extensive firsthand experience with being the parent of a strong-willed child; according to him, the member of his household who best exemplified this trait was a dog. Dobson is an expert on applying Bible teachings to family matters, but in this book he is admittedly out of his field, and it shows. Strong-willed children can be introverts or extroverts and this is one case where the distinction is crucial: the way adults relate to an introvert child’s will needs to be almost opposite from the way they relate to an extrovert child’s will. Dobson’s approach is geared only toward extroverts.

Dobson’s dog was never very well trained, but it did eventually learn to obey “a few simple commands.” One day, after years of obeying “Go to your bed,” the dog defied Dobson and wanted to spend the night on the fluffy toilet lid cover near the heater. It growled, snapped, tried to bite. “That tiny dog and I had the most vicious fight ever staged between man and beast” before Dobson moved the dog into its bed. The next night, when told “Go to your bed,” the dog went. Dobson reports that during the next four years it didn’t challenge Dobson again.

Strong-willed children, Dobson is saying, are like his little “alpha dog.” They challenge adults. A young father whose idea of quality time with his child was to take a three-year-old to a basketball game told the kid, “don’t go past this line.” “He had no sooner returned to his seat than the toddler scurried in the direction of the forbidden territory...and deliberately placed one foot over the line.”

The archetypal, or Archie-Bunker-typal, right-wingers in Dobson’s intended audience clearly believed that parents and others who work with children need to be “tough enough to make [the children] obey.” Those who believe that humans should “obey” other humans only in the sense of respecting others’ rights and boundaries, that the way to teach children math or manners or morals is to call their attention to our examples when necessary, may not like this book.

The strong-willed or Type A personality trait is sometimes considered basically an extrovert trait—the only functional personality trait that is correlated with extroversion. That may account for Dobson’s neglect of introvert children. However, the trait is independent of extroversion. In fact Type A’s who don’t show the more fully developed neurological “wiring” of true introverts still tend to be high-functioning extroverts, who “like to get things done, whether with others or alone,” and while they like to take control of their environment they don’t compulsively clamor for control of other people’s attention. To assume that “the strong-willed child” is an extrovert is probably a mistake. 

Introverts are not shy so much as inner-directed; if what they want to do can be better done with a group, they can organize and lead the group without showing any interest whatsoever in maintaining “social leadership” as a form of ongoing control of other people. The “natural leader” of one activity may, in the absence of personal hostility, prefer to let someone else be the “natural leader” of another activity. It’s possible for Type A’s who identify as extroverts to be survivors of twentieth century America’s cultural war on introversion, during which we were told things like “You aren’t, or don’t want to be, an introvert—you’re not shy, you’re attractive, persuasive, a natural leader when you choose to be...” Neurological tests might quantify how many Americans who consider themselves to be extroverts are, in fact, no such thing. It would be interesting to know the results of neurological studies on many celebrity politicians, movie stars, athletes, and business leaders. Successful musicians are typically introverts; I suspect successful people in other fields may be strong-willed introverts too.

Little introverts may or may not be particularly strong-willed, but when they are, it’s unlikely that even the human version of a “vicious fight” will do them much good. Unlike dogs, children grow bigger and stronger, and see that adults grow less strong, every year. A strong-willed introvert child who is subdued for the moment by forcible correction will eventually hit back. On the other hand introverts have that inner sense of “rightness” that, if the child is not battered, will naturally teach the child that hitting other people is as wrong as singing off key, coloring outside the lines, or leaving a mess on the floor. Parents can recruit the strong will of an introvert child. This is the child who may need occasional correction, but generally behaves reasonably. Misbehavior is usually best corrected by addressing the reason for it. Attempts to “break” a strong-willed introvert child can be physically dangerous to the adult, or to a younger or slower-witted child on whom a child like Charles Schultz’s “Lucy” may dump emotions. This child must be reasoned with.

Practical rewards and punishments for these two types of children are almost mirror images. Almost all children perceive candy as a reward and beating as a punishment, but obviously neither candy nor beating can be used every day. What introverts want in social relationships is the kind of respect that backs off and allows them to do things by themselves; they don’t particularly want attention, and may perceive group attention as a punishment. What extroverts want is control of as many people’s attention as possible; they like to be liked or respected, but they’d rather start a fight and lose it than be left to do something by themselves. Parents can use their attention to reward and punish specific behavior. Introvert children respond well to directives like “When you’ve accomplished X, you earn points toward (money, computer time, etc.).” Extrovert children may need directives like “When you’ve been completely quiet for one hour, then I’ll listen to you for five minutes.”

Confusion is understandable since strong-willed Type A’s are the ones who invented the idea of “ambiverts.” Either they have introverts’ neurological assets or they don’t. Mostly they don't but, given adequate motivation, they can be comfortable either working alone or organizing groups of people to focus on the tasks of their choice. Usually they’re intelligent enough to see the advantages of working well with others, so after the toddler tantrum stage they develop good, often charming, social manners. Their strong personalities can easily seem to have both introvert and extrovert “personality strength.” They tend to like this idea; they like to think they’re in full control of their own personalities. However, for purposes of behavior modification, it will help adults to know which a child really is.

While Dobson is probably right about it being good for young children to know that their parents’ wills are even stronger than theirs, the image of a “vicious fight” may still be inappropriate. Type A’s can perceive their ability to laugh off punishments as desirable enough that they actively invite punishments. While some Type A’s internalize the idea of not only strict but harsh physical discipline, and grow up to be child abusers, others convince themselves that they’ve been martyrs for their “cause” of sloppiness, irreverence, profanity, sexual self-indulgence, or disrespect of their elders. The prudent adult will use insight into their temperament to reinforce desirable behavior with positive rewards. Type A’s respect a firm consistent stand longer than they do a “vicious fight.”

By overlooking neurological differences, Dobson produced yet another twentieth century book that may be useful to parents of extroverts, but drifts in and out of touch with reality as introverts know it. By 1978 the world didn’t need any more of those.