A unicorn and the tendency towards loss aversion result in cleaner teeth and a new idea in behavior management.

The pre-gifting of the stuffed unicorn as a reward for the excellent behavior that we expected from my daughter during her recent dentist appointment was a stroke of genius on my wife’s part because of the nature of loss aversion.

In economics, loss aversion refers to people's tendency to strongly prefer avoiding losses to acquiring gains. Studies suggest that losses are twice as powerful, psychologically, as gains. The unexpected loss of $100 is significantly more painful than the joy of suddenly finding $100.

This tendency has been demonstrated again and again across cultures in a  wide range of contexts. 

But how often do we ever take advantage of this tendency?

As a teacher and parent, I normally establish an expectation and an associated reward, and only when that expectation is met does the child receive the reward.

Complete your chores and receive your allowance.

Write an essay that meets my requirements and receive an A+.

Work hard all week and behave well and you can eat lunch in the classroom on Friday.

But my wife flipped that paradigm in an effort to get my daughter to sit in the dentist chair and allow the dentist to do her work. She pre-rewarded Clara with a toy and the knowledge that if she did not behave well, the toy would be taken away.

She utilized Clara’s tendency toward loss aversion to change a behavior, and it worked beautifully. Clara refused the fluoride and balked at the flossing, but she sat more patiently than ever before.

   

Could parents and teachers do this more often when attempting to change the behavior of children?

Here is your allowance. You’ll need to pay me back at the end of the week if you don’t finish all of your chores.

I’ve entered an A+ in my grade book for the essay that I am assigning to you. If you complete the essay on time and meet all of my expectations, that A+ will remain.

I’ve planned for you to eat lunch in the classroom on Friday unless your effort or behavior cause you to lose this privilege.

Should parents and teachers be utilizing loss aversion more often?

Could employers find ways of utilizing loss aversion to improve employee performance and production?

I think so. With four months left in the school year and a lifetime of parenting ahead of me, let the experimenting begin.

Affirmation from a Moth audience is unbelievable. Affirmation from a bunch of kids is damn good, too.

As a second grader, comedian and actor Jamie Foxx was so talented at telling jokes that his teacher used him as a reward.

If the class behaved, he would entertain them.

I don’t know who Jaime Foxx’s teacher was, but I suspect that I would have liked him a lot.

One of the rewards I give students throughout the school year is stories from my life. Most often these stories are about my childhood, but not always. There are also occasional stories about my children, my wife and events from my adult life as well. I will be reading a book aloud to the class or listening to a student tell me a story when I am reminded of a moment from my past, and I’ll say something like, “Oh, that reminds me of the strangest pet that I ever owned.”

“What was it?” a student will ask.

“Oh, you won’t believe the pet I had as a kid. It was amazing. But I don’t have time to tell that story now. But maybe later. When you’re especially productive.”

My personal secretary (a student) will then add the story to the growing list of topics lest I forget, and when my students have been especially productive and achieved their goals ahead of of schedule, I will offer to tell them a story from this list. The personal secretary will review the list and choose one for me to tell.

It’s a five minute reward that my students adore, and it also serves to reinforce the elements of effective storytelling with my kids. Oftentimes I’m also able to embed some meaningful life lessons into these stories, and best of all, I am able to make my kids laugh.

Kids who laugh at school like school, and kids who like school learn more.

It’s that simple.

The strangest pet ever, by the way, was a raccoon. His name was Racket. Perhaps I’ll tell you that story someday.

Of course, you must be a good storyteller in order to make this reward work.

Earlier this year I was telling a story that included one of my fellow teachers, and halfway through the story, he happened to enter the classroom. He heard the story being told, realized that he was an integral  part of it and sat down to listen. A minute later he jumped in to clarify a point and then proceeded to tell his part of the story for himself.

“Stop!” one of the kids said after few moments. “You’re not telling it right. Let Mr. Dicks tell the story. He knows what he’s doing. Just listen.”

Several others nodded their heads in agreement.

And they were right. He wasn’t telling the story right. He was butchering it.

Winning two Moth StorySLAMs and placing second in four others over the past year has been a dream come true for me (actually, the second place finishes have been damn frustrating), but that moment of affirmation from a bunch of ten-year-olds meant just as much to me.