Behavior Fact Check: ‘We Don’t Say No to Mom’
What is our relationship with being told no and why is it worth examining?
The other day I was playing in a community space with my son, and I heard a mother ask her daughter, “Do you think you can put the ball back in the bin?” The little girl gave a cheerful “no” and carried on holding the ball. The mother then walked over to her daughter and said, “We don’t say no to mom.” I had a visceral reaction.
Why can’t she say no to her mom? I thought for a moment about how I actually want to raise children who have a reinforcement history for saying no to authority figures (dear god does that feel important in today’s world). I have no doubt this woman is a wonderful mother (and I don’t think a single interaction is necessarily indicative of how someone parents outside of that moment), but it got me thinking about “no” and how it relates to how we interact with our dogs, our kids, and each other. Why do I appreciate when my dogs and son tell me no? Why don’t I feel like I am owed a “yes”? I think the answer lies in what I have learned about how behavior works (lol, how insightful, the difference in behavior lies in different learning histories and conditions).
What the Word No Means to Me and Why
Here are four things that come to mind immediately when I think about being told no – by a child, a dog, or anyone:
It’s every individual's “right” to say no. I am of the belief that this ability benefits the individual.
If an individual is saying no to me, that’s on me. I need to respect that, and if it’s something important (e.g. brushing teeth), I need to sort out what I need to change about the conditions so that they say yes in the future.
If I am not willing to accept “no,” I shouldn’t ask a question (or position something as a choice) in the first place (there are ways to signal choice vs. no choice moments, but that isn’t the topic of this article).
I need to be skilled enough to change the right conditions if getting a yes is important to improving this individual’s well being. Again, that’s on me. They get to say no.
When I was first learning to train dogs, I got to shadow Gwen Podulka in some puppy classes. I watched as she gave puppies treats even when they opted out, and I was rather confused. I wondered why on earth the puppy would ever say yes if they could get the same treat for saying no.
I feel a lot of gratitude to the many teachers and mentors I’ve had over the years because I think so differently now – and those around me benefit because of it. I also now understand why that puppy said yes even if they got the same treat for saying no (happy to chat more about this if it’s of interest, but this post is getting long as it is!). If an individual tells me no, it’s because of their learning history and current conditions. When my dog moves away from the bottle of ointment I need to apply to a scrape on his paw or my son says no to having his teeth brushed or leaving his toys, I don’t have to tell a story about how they’re rude or stubborn. And while it may not be as convenient for me as if they’d just said yes, my convenience isn’t what gets centered in interactions with other living beings.
When Does It Make Sense To Change a No to a Yes?
“No” is theirs to “wield.” The only thing I can do is change conditions to those that will lead to a yes. But when does it make sense to do that? Is it ever better not to “meddle” at all? I’ve heard people say that it’s manipulative to change a no to yes. As with all things, I think it depends. For example, I turned on a song the other day (a great Outkast song), and my son started shaking his head no. He wanted me to put a different song on. His quality of life isn’t really going to be impacted by not having that one song in his life. He still gets to experience music – just with songs he wants to listen to. This is a situation where I feel no strong pull to work towards a yes for that one Outkast song. He can just say no (until he comes to his senses and realizes it’s a great song). My dog, Sully, says no to the cooked carrots I offer her, but she says a resounding yes to sardines and liver and lots of other nutritious things. I don’t need to get her to say yes to carrots. I’m giving obvious examples, but I do think it’s important to pause before we intrude – especially when there is a power imbalance as there is with adults and kids and dogs. But watch how quickly I can complicate this …!
What about golf? Should we work to change someone’s “no” to playing golf to a “yes”? We clearly don’t need to as golf is not required for a healthy life, but is there a chance it might actually benefit someone to get to a yes? If I was asked right now (or on a hypothetical nice weather day lol) if I wanted to go golfing with someone, my answer would be no. What would it take to get me from a no to a yes? Skills. I would need some golf skills that would allow me to contact the many reinforcers available while golfing. I think there is a chance I would actually really enjoy golfing and that someone slowly teaching me skills would open my life up to more reinforcers. If I had the skills to play golf and someone asked me to go golfing, I’d still have a choice each time I was asked. I may still say no, but I could also say yes and access those reinforcers. (H/t to Kiki Yablon who gave a card game as an example here when I was chatting with her about whether it’s problematic to change a no to a yes)
Why Do Animals and Humans Say No?
So a child or a dog doesn’t owe us a “yes” simply because of the role we play in their life (though their learning history with us is deeply related). Animals do more of the behaviors that work and less of the ones that do not. Animals behave to access reinforcers and avoid punishers (humans included!).
The little girl who told her mom no wasn’t being stubborn or disrespectful towards her mom. My guess is that the request to put the ball in the bin signaled the end of play, and that appears not to have been a desirable outcome in that moment (since the girl behaved to avoid that outcome or to retain access to the ball – multiple contingencies at play). What is her learning history around giving up things she's having fun with? What’s her learning history around moving towards her mom and away from something she was playing with? How novel is that ball? How much time had she gotten with the ball? I dunno … how much sleep did she have that night or day? All potentially relevant to her cheerful little “no.”
One day when I was on a walk with my husband, Ben, my dogs, and my son, Ben pulled spoons out of the stroller pocket and said, “Why is the kitchen drawer in here?” I laughed and said, “Watch!” We had stopped mid-hike and my son was having fun playing in the dirt. It was time to go, and I wanted to put him back in the stroller, but I knew I was taking him away from something he was enjoying. As soon as I said his name and he looked up at me, I handed him a beloved kitchen spoon (of the “adult” variety) and picked him up. I strapped him into the stroller and he was all smiles as he passed that spoon between his hands. I looked at my husband and said, “He is learning everytime I ask him to move away from something. Everytime I ask him to come with me, he’s learning about what to do under similar conditions in the future. I want him to learn that when I ask him to come with me away from something he’s playing with, it leads to other great things. And so, I travel with great things.”
Honor the No and Then Work To Shape a Yes
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