I have an interesting and truly successful experience related to one "discussion" point:
> For another example, consider the Marinek and Cambrell (2008) experiment where
they compared the effect of token-rewards, e.g. a gold star, with task-related rewards,
e.g. a book, on reading motivation.
> Would the reward of a book really be experienced as less controlling than the reward
of a gold star?
> Instead, I think the token reward was probably more distracting than the task-related
reward – which makes sense, since the task-related reward was really just a means of
spending more time doing the task at hand anyway.
My experience would suggest another effect is happening. A reward of a book aligns with the activity more than just being less distracting. It makes the activity less of an event, and more of a path. I.e. reading gets framed as not something they did, but something they are beginning, that they can look forward to.
I think we are attracted to learning things more, if the learning has a forward path, if the forward path is made more visible, or the forward path is more enabled. A book reward emphasizes those intangibles, while tangibly enabling another step.
Path continuation/enablement rewards are higher level increased autonomy rewards.
Contrast that to giving a book reward and also being told they were going to be required to read it the next day! It would suddenly represent an anticipated continuation of control instead of an anticipated path of more autonomy and competence. I would suspect it would has an even greater inhibiting effect, by projecting control instead of potential autonomy/competency into the future.
--
Ok, here is the related "psychological experiment" which worked out really well with my young children. (Grown up now.)
Every night, I or my partner would read them a bedtime story. We usually read one or two short stories, after which we asked them to get ready for bed. Invariably, they would beg for another story, which we would read, then put them to bed.
But children don't give up, so they of course begged for another story. No matter how many stories you read, their is the inevitable disappointment of story time ending. Getting them into bed represented the enforcement of that ending, and often required some degree of "control" to get them settled. No time for autonomy! And settled again and again! Until they gave up their valiant struggle against the night and actually settled down.
So we tried something, by random instinct one night, and it worked so well it became a staple of their young lives.
Instead of ending the book focus abruptly, we told them that stories were over, but they could pick a book to sleep with. It was the funniest thing. They would get quite excited and enjoy choosing "a favorite book" from their selection. We would say just pick one, but then "give in" and let them pick two if they couldn't decide.
All this autonomy of what books they were going to take to bed, including talking us into letting them have more than one, really motivated them into bed.
Then lights went out. They couldn't read the books. They couldn't look at the pictures. Nevertheless, they could feel them and it made them very happy going to sleep!
Other factors played a part, but I am convinced that part of the reason they are lifelong habitual book readers, something already getting rare in their generation, is how much they fell in love with the literal physical feeling of books, for eight hours a night.
And their parents have heartwarming and still funny memories of checking on them, seeing them sleeping happily with favorite books in their arms, under pillows, tucked into the covers with them, or on top of the covers with one of their hands or feet sticking out still touching a book's cover.
I have an interesting and truly successful experience related to one "discussion" point:
> For another example, consider the Marinek and Cambrell (2008) experiment where they compared the effect of token-rewards, e.g. a gold star, with task-related rewards, e.g. a book, on reading motivation.
> Would the reward of a book really be experienced as less controlling than the reward of a gold star?
> Instead, I think the token reward was probably more distracting than the task-related reward – which makes sense, since the task-related reward was really just a means of spending more time doing the task at hand anyway.
My experience would suggest another effect is happening. A reward of a book aligns with the activity more than just being less distracting. It makes the activity less of an event, and more of a path. I.e. reading gets framed as not something they did, but something they are beginning, that they can look forward to.
I think we are attracted to learning things more, if the learning has a forward path, if the forward path is made more visible, or the forward path is more enabled. A book reward emphasizes those intangibles, while tangibly enabling another step.
Path continuation/enablement rewards are higher level increased autonomy rewards.
Contrast that to giving a book reward and also being told they were going to be required to read it the next day! It would suddenly represent an anticipated continuation of control instead of an anticipated path of more autonomy and competence. I would suspect it would has an even greater inhibiting effect, by projecting control instead of potential autonomy/competency into the future.
--
Ok, here is the related "psychological experiment" which worked out really well with my young children. (Grown up now.)
Every night, I or my partner would read them a bedtime story. We usually read one or two short stories, after which we asked them to get ready for bed. Invariably, they would beg for another story, which we would read, then put them to bed.
But children don't give up, so they of course begged for another story. No matter how many stories you read, their is the inevitable disappointment of story time ending. Getting them into bed represented the enforcement of that ending, and often required some degree of "control" to get them settled. No time for autonomy! And settled again and again! Until they gave up their valiant struggle against the night and actually settled down.
So we tried something, by random instinct one night, and it worked so well it became a staple of their young lives.
Instead of ending the book focus abruptly, we told them that stories were over, but they could pick a book to sleep with. It was the funniest thing. They would get quite excited and enjoy choosing "a favorite book" from their selection. We would say just pick one, but then "give in" and let them pick two if they couldn't decide.
All this autonomy of what books they were going to take to bed, including talking us into letting them have more than one, really motivated them into bed.
Then lights went out. They couldn't read the books. They couldn't look at the pictures. Nevertheless, they could feel them and it made them very happy going to sleep!
Other factors played a part, but I am convinced that part of the reason they are lifelong habitual book readers, something already getting rare in their generation, is how much they fell in love with the literal physical feeling of books, for eight hours a night.
And their parents have heartwarming and still funny memories of checking on them, seeing them sleeping happily with favorite books in their arms, under pillows, tucked into the covers with them, or on top of the covers with one of their hands or feet sticking out still touching a book's cover.