Once upon a time parents were sparse with praise. It was thought that children ought not to be praised because they might get a swollen head. Correspondingly, parents who praised their kids beyond pride in their nursery rhyme reciting abilities were looked on as immodest and somehow unseemly. Teachers too seemed to subscribe to this tough love philosophy. That seemed to have been the general culture — although it did not mean that parents or other elders were not loving in general. Praise if it was handed out, was only in the face of success — people who always came first in class (obviously not me!), people who were rich, girls who were very desirable. This was perhaps not so much praise as it was an acknowledgment or affirmation of power.

Perhaps the idea of being stingy with praise is also meant to egg you on to do better, aim higher, Tiger Mom style. It may well make you more competitive. It certainly didn’t have that impact on me. Of course I learned all about sarcasm, but it also left me second-guessing the world, unsure of myself and constantly struggling with anxiety about my work. But like most people I knew, I was used to it, as we are to whatever seems normal to us — until we experience something different.