Kids should be taught to be kind, not successful

Ihate saying things like, ‘‘People used to be kinder.’’ I mean, nostalgia is especially ridiculous coming from someone who’s 25. What ‘‘back in the day’’ era am I referring to? The birthing ward of the hospital? But this time it does seem to be that people were kinder back in the theoretical day.

Recent US research found that 75 per cent of college students today are significantly less empathetic than they were in 1979, and there’s been a steep drop in the last 10 years. The research trends are mirrored across the population, which suggests the average adult is also less empathetic than they were 30 years ago.

There could be many reasons why this happens. But the one I find most fascinating is the research that found when you ask small kids what values their parents teach them, 81 per cent say their parents value being successful over being kind.

It’s also not often I find myself agreeing with tiny people whose primary concerns are pureed food and pooping, but those kids are right. Coming of age in the last decade, it certainly feels we’ve been taught to value being successful over being kind.

You just have to look at the popular image of an ‘‘ideal young person’’ these days. It’s not the overtly lovely Girl Guide or selflessly heroic surf lifesaver. It’s an entrepreneur. We want our kids to be a 16-year-old CEO of a sustainable yoga pants startup. And while entrepreneurs aren’t necessarily unkind, the label absolutely connotes the hard work, ruthless dedication and undeniable success that are the goals we idolise for young people.

There are many messed-up parts of the success-over-kindness philosophy. I mean, first off it’s obviously bananas as a strategy for raising welladjusted humans. And has a nasty habit of turning people into those insufferable types who have to ‘‘win’’ at everything.

But also, success and kindness are not mutually exclusive. In fact, there’s a lot of evidence that the kinder you are growing up, the more successful you are in life. Contrary to what that loudmouth in your office believes, nice guys do not finish last.

Research consistently shows that the kids who’re rated as more helpful by their kindy teachers go on to earn more money later in life, and the kids who are helpful and co-operative in middle school academically outperform their more selfcentred peers. So if you’re genuinely obsessed with your kid being successful, teaching them kindness is probably a great start.

It’s also causing total mayhem for young people. If you’ve spent any time with a young person recently, you’ll know many of us are in the midst of a quarter-life crisis, where we’re paralysed by our failure to live up to our (somewhat astronomical) idea of being ‘‘successful’’.

We’re obsessing over the need to be seen to be successful, and it’s making us miserable.

Ironically, if we focused on kindness goals, we’d probably be a lot happier. The thing that made me feel the best this year wasn’t any success goal, but learning to be less irritable on the phone with my mum.

Contrary to what that loudmouth in your office believes, nice guys do not finish last.

And ultimately, we’ve already got enough people reminding us how important it is to be successful. We’re reminded of that by everything from the ‘‘exams’’ we take in junior school, to ‘‘success hack’’-spouting influencers, to our drink bottles that intone, ‘‘aspire, perspire, succeed!’’ We get it. We know. We don’t need our parents to remind us.

But we do need them to remind us to be kind, and often there’s no-one better placed to do that.

I remember being 10, standing in an op-shop with Mum and seeing an old lady crying. I was upset, but also too self-conscious to ask if the lady was OK. Mum, who has always been blessed with intuitive, bold kindness, went over and offered her a tissue. The lady’s husband had died a week earlier. And while Mum’s tissues couldn’t change that, they did make the lady feel as though someone cared.

That was the first time I realised how brave you have to be to be kind. Not in the least because we’re often instinctively awkward and embarrassed around people who need kindness the most.

And yet, because of Mum, now when I see someone in need of help I hear her firm instruction: ‘‘Verity, go and ask if they’re OK.’’

Nothing and no-one else could have taught me that.