Nonviolent Communication - A Language of Life, Second Edition @Team LiB (20 page)

The intention behind the protective use of force is to prevent injury or injustice. The intention behind the punitive use of force is to cause individuals to suffer for their perceived misdeeds. When we grab a child who is running into the street to prevent the child from being injured, we are applying protective force. The punitive use of force, on the other hand, might involve physical or psychological attack, such as spanking the child or reproofs like, “How could you be so stupid! You should be ashamed of yourself!”

When we exercise the protective use of force, we are focusing on the life or rights we want to protect without passing judgment on either the person or the behavior. We are not blaming or condemning the child rushing into the street; our thinking is solely directed toward protecting the child from danger. (For application of this kind of force in social and political conflicts, see Robert Irwin’s book, Nonviolent Social Defense.) The assumption behind the protective use of force is that people behave in ways injurious to themselves and others due to some form of ignorance. The corrective process is therefore one of education, not punishment. Ignorance includes (a) a lack of awareness of the consequences of our actions, (b) an inability to see how our needs may be met without injury to others, (c) the belief that we have the “right” to punish or hurt others because they “deserve” it, and (d) delusional thinking that involves, for example, hearing a “voice” that instructs us to kill someone.

The intention behind the protective use of force is only to protect, not to punish, blame, or condemn.

Punitive action, on the other hand, is based on the assumption that people commit offenses because they are bad or evil, and to correct the situation, they need to be made to repent. Their “ correction” is undertaken through punitive action designed to make them (1) suffer enough to see the error of their ways, (2) repent, and (3) change. In practice, however, punitive action, rather than evoking repentance and learning, is just as likely to generate resentment and hostility and to reinforce resistance to the very behavior we are seeking.

Physical punishment, such as spanking, is one punitive use of force. I have found the subject of corporal punishment to provoke strong sentiments among parents. Some adamantly defend the practice, while referring to the Bible: “Spare the rod, spoil the child. It’s because parents don’t spank that delinquency is now rampant.” They are persuaded that spanking our children shows that we love them by setting clear boundaries. Other parents are equally insistent that spanking is unloving and ineffective because it teaches children that, when all else fails, we can always resort to physical violence.

My personal concern is that children’s fear of corporal punishment may obscure their awareness of the compassion that underlies parental demands. Parents often tell me that they “have to” use punitive force because they see no other way to influence their children to do “what’s good for them.” They support their opinion with anecdotes of children expressing appreciation for “seeing the light” after having been punished. Having raised four children, I empathize deeply with parents regarding the daily challenges they face in educating children and keeping them safe. This does not, however, lessen my concern about the use of physical punishment.

Fear of corporal punishment obscures children’s awareness of the compassion underlying parental demands.

First, I wonder whether people who proclaim the successes of such punishment are aware of the countless instances of children who turn against what might be good for them simply because they choose to fight, rather than succumb, to coercion. Second, the apparent success of corporal punishment in influencing a child doesn’t mean that other methods of influence wouldn’t have worked equally well. Finally, I share the concerns of many parents about the social consequences of using physical punishment. When parents opt to use force, we may win the battle of getting children to do what we want, but in the process, are we not perpetuating a social norm that justifies violence as a means of resolving differences?

In addition to the physical, other uses of force also qualify as punishment. One is the use of blame to discredit another person: for example, a parent may label a child as “wrong,” “selfish,” or “immature” when a child doesn’t behave in a certain way. Another form of punitive force is the withholding of some means of gratification, such as parents’ curtailing of allowance or driving privileges. In this type of punishment, the withdrawal of caring or respect is one of the most powerful threats of all.

Punishment also includes judgmental labeling and the withholding of privileges.

When we submit to doing something solely for the purpose of avoiding punishment, our attention is distracted from the value of the action itself. Instead, we are focusing upon the consequences of what might happen if we fail to take that action. If a worker’s performance is prompted by fear of punishment, the job gets done, but morale suffers; sooner or later, productivity will decrease. Selfesteem is also diminished when punitive force is used. If children brush their teeth because they fear shame and ridicule, their oral health may improve but their self-respect will develop cavities. Furthermore, as we all know, punishment is costly in terms of goodwill. The more we are seen as agents of punishment, the harder it is for others to respond compassionately to our needs.

When we fear punishment, we focus on consequences, not on our own values.

Fear of punishment diminishes self-esteem and goodwill.

I was visiting a friend, a school principal, at his office when he noticed through the window a big child hitting a smaller one. “Excuse me,” he said as he leapt up and rushed to the playground. Grabbing the larger child, he gave him a swat and scolded, “I’ll teach you not to hit smaller people!” When the principal returned inside, I remarked, “I don’t think you taught that child what you thought you were teaching him. I suspect what he learned instead was not to hit people smaller than he is when somebody bigger— like the principal—might be watching! If anything, it seems to me that you have reinforced the notion that the way to get what you want from somebody else is to hit them.”

In such situations, I recommend first empathizing with the child who is behaving violently. For example, if I saw a child hit someone after being called a name, I might empathize, “I’m sensing that you’re feeling angry because you’d like to be treated with more respect.” If I guessed correctly, and the child acknowledges this to be true, I would then continue by expressing my own feelings, needs, and requests in this situation without insinuating blame: “I’m feeling sad because I want us to find ways to get respect that don’t turn people into enemies. I’d like you to tell me if you’d be willing to explore with me some other ways to get the respect you’re wanting.”

Two questions help us see why we are unlikely to get what we want by using punishment to change people’s behavior. The first question is:
What do I want this person to do that’s different from what he or she is currently doing?
If we ask only this first question, punishment may seem effective because the threat or exercise of punitive force may well influence the person’s behavior. However, with the second question, it becomes evident that punishment isn’t likely to work:
What do I want this person’s reasons to be for doing what I’m asking?

Question 1: What do I want this person to do?

Question 2: What do I want this person’s reasons to be for doing it?

We seldom address the latter question, but when we do, we soon realize that punishment and reward interfere with people’s ability to do things motivated by the reasons we’d like them to have. I believe it is critical to be aware of the importance of people’s reasons for behaving as we request. For example, blaming or punishing would obviously not be effective strategies if we want children to clean their rooms out of either a desire for order or a desire to contribute to the parents’ enjoyment of order. Often children clean their rooms motivated by obedience to authority (“Because my Mom said so”), avoidance of punishment, or fear of upsetting or being rejected by parents. NVC, however, fosters a level of moral development based on autonomy and interdependence, whereby we acknowledge responsibility for our own actions and are aware that our own well-being and that of others are one and the same.

I’d like to describe how some students and I used protective force to bring order into a chaotic situation at an alternative school. This school was designed for students who had dropped out or been expelled from conventional classrooms. The administration and I hoped to demonstrate that a school based on the principles of NVC would be able to reach these students. My job was to train the faculty in NVC and serve as consultant over the year. With only four days to prepare the faculty, I was unable to sufficiently clarify the difference between NVC and permissiveness. As a result, some teachers were ignoring, rather than intervening, in situations of conflict and disturbing behavior. Besieged by increasing pandemonium, the administrators were nearly ready to shut down the school.

When I requested to talk with the students who had contributed most to the turbulence, the principal selected eight boys, ages eleven to fourteen, to meet with me. The following are excerpts from the dialogue I had with the students.

MBR: (Expressing my feeling and needs without asking probing questions.)
I’m very upset about the teachers’ reports that things are getting out of hand in many of the classes. I want very much for this school to be successful. I’m hopeful that you can help me understand what the problems are and what can be done about them.

Will:
The teachers in this school—they fools, man!

MBR:
Are you saying, Will, that you are disgusted with the teachers and you want them to change some things they do?

Will:
No, man, they is fools because they just stand around and don’t do nothin’.

MBR:
You mean you’re disgusted because you want them to do more when problems happen.
(This is a second attempt to receive the feelings and wants.) Will:
That’s right, man. No matter what anybody do they just stand there smilin’ like fools.

MBR:
Would you be willing to give me an example of how the teachers do nothing?

Will:
Easy. Just this morning a dude walks in wearin’ a bottle of Wild Turkey on his hip pocket plain as day. Everybody seen it; the teacher, she seen it but she’s lookin’ the other way.

MBR:
It sounds to me, then, that you don’t have respect for the teachers when they stand around doing nothing. You’d like them to do something.
(This is a continued attempt to fully understand.)

Will:
Yeah.

MBR:
I feel disappointed because I want them to be able to work things out with students but it sounds like I wasn’t able to show them what I meant.
The discussion then turned to one particularly pressing problem, that of students who didn’t want to work disturbing those who did.

MBR:
I’m anxious to try to solve this problem because the teachers tell me it’s the one that bothers them the most. I would appreciate your sharing whatever ideas you have with me.

Joe: The teacher got to get a rattan (
a stick covered with leather that was carried by some principals in St. Louis to administer corporal punishment
).

MBR:
So you’re saying, Joe, that you want the teachers to hit students when they bother others.

Joe:
That’s the only way students gonna stop playing the fool.

MBR:
So you doubt that any other way would work.
(Still trying to receive Joe’s feelings.)

Joe: (Nods agreement.)

MBR:
I’m discouraged if that’s the only way. I hate that way of settling things and want to learn other ways.

Ed:
Why?

MBR:
Several reasons. Like if I get you to stop horsing around in school by using the rattan, I’d like you to tell me what happens if three or four of you that I’ve hit in class are out by my car when I go home.

Ed: (Smiling)
Then you better have a big stick, man!

MBR: (Feeling certain I understood Ed’s message and certain he knew I understood, I continue without paraphrasing it.)
That’s what I mean. I’d like you to see I’m bothered about that way of settling things. I’m too absentminded to always remember to carry a big stick, and even if I remembered, I would hate to hit someone with it.

Ed:
You could kick the cat out of school.

MBR:
You’re suggesting, Ed, that you would like us to suspend or expel kids from the school?

Ed:
Yeah.

MBR:
I’m discouraged with that idea, too. I want to show that there are other ways of solving differences in school without kicking people out. I’d feel like a failure if that was the best we could do.

Will:
If a dude ain’t doin’ nothing, how come you can’t put him in a do-nothin’ room?

MBR:
Are you suggesting, Will, that you would like to have a room to send people to if they bother other students?

Will:
That’s right. No use they bein’ in class if they ain’t doin’ nothin’.

MBR:
I’m very interested in that idea. I’d like to hear how you think such a room might work.

Will:
Sometimes you come to school and just feel evil: you don’t want to do nothin’. So we just have a room students go to till they feel like doin’ somethin’.

MBR:
I understand what you are saying, but I’m anticipating that the teacher will be concerned about whether the students will go willingly to the do-nothing room.

Will: (Confidently)
They’ll go.

I said I thought the plan might work if we could show that the purpose was not to punish, but to provide a place to go for those who weren’t ready to study, and simultaneously a chance to study for those who wanted to study. I also suggested that a do-nothing room would be more likely to succeed if it was known to be a product of student brainstorming rather than staff decree.

A do-nothing room was set up for students who were upset and didn’t feel like doing schoolwork or whose behavior kept others from learning. Sometimes students asked to go; sometimes teachers asked students to go. We placed the teacher who had best mastered NVC in the do-nothing room, where she had some very productive talks with the children who came in. This set-up was an immense success in restoring order to the school because the students who devised it made its purpose clear to their peers: to protect the rights of students who wanted to learn. We used the dialogue with the students to demonstrate to the teachers that there were other means of resolving conflicts besides withdrawal from the conflict or using punitive force.