Do people treat us poorly because they're bad people? Or do we teach them to do it?

A mother and her young son hurriedly pace through a department store. As they pass an aisle of action figures, the son points to one and asks: “Mummy, can I please have it?’ Mum replies: “No, sweetie, you’ve got enough toys at home.” She gently tugs at his hand, motioning him to keep moving. But he won’t budge. “Mummy, PLEASE, I really want it.” Mum: “I said no, now come along.” As Mum strengthens her tug, he yanks his hand free: “Mummy, I’m not leaving until I get it!” Finally, with his 3rd request denied, he throws himself to the floor and begins screaming: “I WANT IT, I WANT IT, I WANT IT!” Mum’s cheeks redden as onlookers take notice. She’s in a rush to buy a wedding gift, pick her daughter up from Soccer practice and start dinner. Tired, stressed, and upset, she buckles under the pressure: “Fine! Now get off the ground; you’re embarrassing me. I’ll buy it for you, but it’s the last toy you’re getting until Christmas!” Leaping to attention, the boy sheepishly smiles and wipes his crocodile tears. Although Mum has fixed a short-term problem, she’s taught her son a horrible long-term lesson: misbehaviour earns rewards. 

It’s easy to read this story and think: ‘What a terrible lesson to teach someone, I’d never do that.’ But in reality, we often reward bad behaviour without realising it.

Refusing to share a necessary criticism with someone because they tend to overreact means rewarding misbehaviour. 

Dutifully agreeing to fulfil an unfair, inappropriate or unachievable demand set by someone who uses intimidation to get what they want means rewarding misbehaviour. 

Pretending to be amused and unfazed when a friend makes an insulting comment under the guise of a joke means rewarding misbehaviour.

Tolerating mistreatment in favour of confronting an issue means rewarding misbehaviour. 

When we were in our late twenties, one of my well-intended but passive friends had an obnoxious girlfriend. My (now) wife and I joined him and her on a double date early into their relationship, and even then, their incompatibility was palpable. 

He put his arm around her and kissed her cheek, and after she pulled away, as if disgusted, he affectionately asked: “are you ok, babe?”

She commented on being too attractive for him, and he enthusiastically agreed, stating: “I’m so lucky to have you”. 

He and I made mention of our plans for an interstate Golf weekend, to which she interjected: “You’re not wasting your money on that shit.” Without question, he accepted her opinion, apologised to me and suggested I invite someone else.

Two months into the relationship, they had their first major argument. It started with him gently mentioning the impact of her misbehaviour, and ended with her flipping out, screaming and storming off. Over the following week, she refused to pick up his numerous calls or text him back. In a last-ditch effort to repair the relationship, he sent her an image of a wrapped gift with the caption “I’m sorry”. It worked. Within minutes, she responded; hours later, she returned, and the relationship continued for four more miserable months.

In the six months they dated - before she dumped him for a wealthier, 38-year-old man, my friend had bought her chocolates, flowers, champagne, jewellery, gift vouchers, shoes and a designer handbag. How much he spent on any gift depended on the severity of her misbehaviour. A petty squabble resulted in chocolates; her week-long storm out, a designer handbag. Every dollar he spent reinforced her belief in the effectiveness of misbehaviour.

Why do we reward bad behaviour?

Humans reward misbehaviour for a variety - and sometimes combination - of reasons. 

The allure of a quick fix. ‘The easiest way to stop their misbehaviour is by giving in to their demand.’

We think it’s good for our relationships. ‘They’re only misbehaving because they want something. If I give it to them, they’ll be appreciative, and our relationship will be stronger.’

We’re afraid. ‘Refusing to do what this person demands of me will create negative consequences.’ Sometimes this fear is rational. For example, when, alone in a dark alleyway, you’re accosted by a mugger with a gun and demand for your wallet - rewarding bad behaviour is the right thing to do. But sometimes, the fear is irrational, like when a toxic ‘friend’ threatens to end your friendship unless you share your Netflix password.

We don’t know better. ‘This is how I was taught to treat others.’ Many of us are taught that rewarding misbehaviour earns rewards, and as such, we naturally, unconsciously teach it to others.

We’ve seen it work. Some of us reward misbehaviour because we’ve experienced situations where doing so yields positive results. Like that time your colleague stopped their incessant hassling when you completed their portion of a work assignment.

Although some reasons for rewarding misbehaviour may appear effective, we trade short-term benefit for long-term misery each time we do so. We teach others that mistreatment is the easiest way to get what they want. And the more we do it, the more entitled, unfair and poorly communicated their demands become.

How to stop rewarding bad behaviour

Be indifferent to misbehaviour. If someone knows they can use your embarrassment, anxiety, guilt, sadness or fear to get what they want, breaking the habit requires a reaction of indifference. Don’t be angered or upset by their manipulation. Don’t make an effort to please. Be calm, patient and refuse to relent.

Responding to misbehaviour with indifference will either teach someone that getting what they want requires an approach of respect and maturity, or they’ll decide they no longer wish to associate with you. Either way, you’re better off.

Teach them there are consequences for their actions. When dealing with a misbehaving child, this could be a stern conversation upon returning to the car. For a friend, this could be a confrontation where you share your concerns and tell them that continued offences will spell the end of your friendship.

Perseverance. When you teach someone that misbehaviour won’t be rewarded, they’re unlikely to learn their lesson immediately. In most cases, they’ll adapt their method of misbehaviour. If at first they use anger or intimidation, they might change to guilt and feigned sadness: “I can’t believe you’re doing this to me” or “I thought we were friends”. Allowing their manipulation to work may prevent them from using anger or intimidation in future, but that’s only because they’ll replace these behaviours with guilt and sadness. Stick to your guns until they realise that negative reactions aren’t effective.

Positive reinforcement. If the other party matures past the point of over-emotion and utilises a more appropriate method of request, reinforce this change in behaviour by rewarding them. This doesn’t necessarily mean giving them what they want, but at least, be kind. Don’t make a big song and dance if they show you the minimum level of respect; this should be standard protocol for a mutually respectful relationship. But if they go above and beyond, show your appreciation.