Mindset: The New Psychology of Success

Parents and teachers who send fixed-mindset messages are like France, and parents and teachers who send growth-mindset messages are like Italy.

Let’s start with the messages parents send to their children—but, you know, they are also messages that teachers can send to their students or coaches can send to their athletes.

PARENTS (AND TEACHERS):

MESSAGES ABOUT SUCCESS AND FAILURE

Messages About Success

Listen for the messages in the following examples:

“You learned that so ckly! You’re so smart!”

“Look at that drawing. Martha, is he the next Picasso or what?”

“You’re so brilliant, you got an A without even studying!”

If you’re like most parents, you hear these as supportive, esteem-boosting messages. But listen more closely. See if you can hear another message. It’s the one that children hear:

If I don’t learn something quickly, I’m not smart.

I shouldn’t try drawing anything hard or they’ll see I’m no Picasso.

I’d better quit studying or they won’t think I’m brilliant.

How do I know this? Remember chapter 3, how I was thinking about all the praise parents were lavishing on their kids in the hope of encouraging confidence and achievement? You’re so smart. You’re so talented. You’re such a natural athlete. And I thought, wait a minute. Isn’t it the kids with the fixed mindset—the vulnerable kids—who are obsessed with this? Wouldn’t harping on intelligence or talent make kids—all kids—even more obsessed with it?

That’s why we set out to study this. After seven experiments with hundreds of children, we had some of the clearest findings I’ve ever seen: Praising children’s intelligence harms their motivation and it harms their performance.

How can that be? Don’t children love to be praised?

Yes, children love praise. And they especially love to be praised for their intelligence and talent. It really does give them a boost, a special glow—but only for the moment. The minute they hit a snag, their confidence goes out the window and their motivation hits rock bottom. If success means they’re smart, then failure means they’re dumb. That’s the fixed mindset.

Here is the voice of a mother who saw the effects of well-meant praise for intelligence:

I want to share my real-life experience with you. I am the mother of a very intelligent fifth grader. He consistently scores in the 99 percentile on standardized school tests in math, language and science, but he has had some very real “self-worth” problems. My husband, who is also an intelligent person, felt his parents never valued intellect and he has overcompensated with our son in attempting to praise him for “being smart.” Over the past years, I have suspected this was causing a problem, because my son, while he easily excels in school, is reluctant to take on more difficult work or projects (just as your studies show) because then he would think he’s not smart. He projects an over-inflated view of his abilities and claims he can perform better than others (both intellectually and in physical activities), but will not attempt such activities, because of course, in his failure he would be shattered.

And here is the voice of one of my Columbia students reflecting on his history:

I remember often being praised for my intelligence rather than my efforts, and slowly but surely I developed an aversion to difficult challenges. Most surprisingly, this extended beyond academic and even athletic challenges to emotional challenges. This was my greatest learning disability—this tendency to see performance as a reflection of character and, if I could not accomplish something right away, to avoid that task or treat it with contempt.

I know, it feels almost impossible to resist this kind of praise. We want our loved ones to know that we prize them and appreciate their successes. Even I have fallen into the trap.

One day I came home and my husband, David, had solved a very difficult problem we had been puzzling over for a while. Before I could stop myself, I blurted out: “You’re brilliant!” Needless to say, I was appalled at what I had done, and as the look of horror spread over my face, he rushed to reassure me. “I know you meant it in the most ‘growth-minded’ way. That I searched for strategies, kept at it, tried all kinds of solutions, and finally mastered it.”

“Yes,” I said, smiling sweetly, “that’s exactly what I meant.”