Your Teen: Abstract Thinking and Conflict

When your teenager starts to become accustomed to the world of abstract thought, a new kind of argument begins to occur at home. During these conflicts, you come to realize, for maybe the first time, that your teenager is more perceptive than you had imagined. During these arguments, he pokes holes in your logic, disassembles assumptions, and points out your character flaws—usually in a less-than-graceful manner. At the same time, however, you grasp that, even though he is arguing vehemently, he doesn't seem all that attached to what he is saying. It's as if he were arguing just to argue, and that is often exactly what is happening.

To understand this phenomenon, think back to when he was five or six and just learning some new physical skill—drawing a certain kind of flower, kicking a soccer ball with his left foot, playing a song on the piano. As a child, he came to you and asked you to watch him show you this new skill he had developed. And you did so, with pride. You loved letting him show off his new abilities in front of you. For his part, he basked in your attention and positive feedback, and you reveled in his need to show you.

Fast-forward ten years, to when he is sixteen. Now instead of calling you out to the backyard to show off his mastery of the corner kick, he picks a fight with you at the dinner table. Nothing major, just some minor character flaw of yours or an opposite political view (a favorite of many teenagers). Suddenly you find yourself in a full-fledged debate over some issue you hadn't fully considered before this conversation, and your son is debating you as if the outcome might determine the course of humankind. Catch your breath. Although what he is saying is important, more often than not it's his best way of showing off to you. Only now he is showing off his new and more complex thinking abilities instead of some new physical skill he has just acquired.

How else can he do this? Bring home a chemistry problem and solve it in front of you? Write a concise paragraph while you watch? No. The most frequent way—and the least vulnerable from their viewpoint—that teenagers let their parents know that they have made the shift into abstract thinking is by arguing. It's arguing in part for the sake of arguing, and to a greater degree to show off.

I remember making this connection between arguing and showing off with my son. We were on our way back home from dropping my husband off at the airport and we were listening to the radio. (It was my turn, so the radio was tuned to National Public Radio.) I'm not even sure of the topic, but suddenly he began to disagree with what the commentator was saying, so much so that he turned down the radio and looked to me to affirm his opinion. I cleared my throat and gently disagreed with him, as I'm sure he knew I would.

Well, you would have thought I had just trashed his friends. He grew indignant and debated me on the topic for the next twenty-five minutes. It was a much more engaging conversation than I had planned for, but engaging in that I was working hard to hold my own, and I'm not sure that I really did.

As we pulled in the driveway, we reached an awkward stop to the discussion. Neither of us was satisfied because we hadn't swayed the other person one bit, and I know I didn't feel that I had been that articulate in what I had to say—I imagined my son felt the same way, but I don't know for sure.

Then it hit me: He was showing off for me. So as we walked up to the back door, I stopped him and said, "You know I'm really impressed with the way you think and debate. You listened to what I had to say, looked for the flaws, and took them apart. You're a better listener than I thought, and more articulate, too. I'm impressed with the way you think." Then as I pushed past him to get in the house, I added, "Of course I disagree with just about everything you said, but still the complexity of your thinking is impressive."

He was stunned. At first his face lit up in a big smile, followed quickly by a look of consternation when he couldn't decide whether I had complimented or insulted him. I didn't stick around to find out.

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