The difference between coarse and refined abuse is the difference between being bruised by a club and wounded by a poison arrow. -- Samuel Johnson Harsh discipline -- by which I mean both physical punishment in the form of hitting or spanking and verbal intimidation, which includes belittling, denigrating, scapegoating, and threatening -- is not the answer for any child.

Not ever. And yet many Bermudian children are like lightning rods for harsh discipline, as emphasised in recent comments made to the media by community members.

Harsh discipline is presumed to help make a man out of boy: Presumed to teach a child a lesson. Children need tough treatment to whip them into shape. The assumption is that children are impervious to subtle suggestion and are resistant to abuse. The assumption is wrong. If you are excessively cutting, unfair, or physically and verbally abusive with children, they develop powerful, angry defences against the treatment, or they become traumatised.

Adults who have been hit, shamed and humiliated as children take it out on the world.

Despite a supposed growing outcry against corporal punishment and some decline in its use, a great many adults continue to spank, hit, or use threatening or abusive language as a way to exert control or demand compliance from their children. A very wrong message is being conveyed when "licks'' are equated with love, and we are pacified into thinking that Bermudian culture allows us to hit children.

At a societal level, spanking and licks are harmful for two reasons. First, they legitimise violence. When an authority figure gives licks, they are, in essence, condoning the use as violence as a way to deal with frustration and settle disputes. Second, the implicit message of acceptance contributes to violence in other aspects of society. Violence in one sphere of life tends to engender violence in other spheres. And physical punishment is only half the picture. Harsh or threatening words leave a mark on a child, too. Even parents who wouldn't think of striking a child acknowledge that in anger or frustration, they say things or impose penalties that are meant to sting in the same way. And all of it does sting in much the same way; the spanking, hitting, smacking, yanking ways that some adults use to show a child who's boss, as well as the shaming criticism, belittling, or other harsh verbal intimidation or harsh penalties that so many parents use to discipline or direct children's behaviour.

Consider the consequences. At the level of the individual, where we see harsh discipline or abuse in children's lives we see children who struggle with shame, self-hatred and anger. Many children simply shut down emotionally at a young age and stay that way, unable to understand or express their feelings as they move into adults relationships in work, marriage, and family. Deeply shamed, sad and angry children don't just get over it with the passage of time.

So why do it? Either as an attempt to protect their sanity or because they feel that it is the right thing to do, some parents use discipline like a hammer to pound in their message of power: who's got it and who doesn't, who's big and who's small, who's paying for the damage done and who's causing it. It has also been said that violence is the product of an exhausted mind, and this may be true of parents and children alike in Bermuda. Children become emotionally exhausted if they haven't developed the ease of expression that allows them to share their feelings and relieve some of the fear and isolation they feel. They can't talk about it because they don't know how. Instead, they vent their feelings in actions that serve only to aggravate the parent or teacher. We all get tired, overwhelmed, and angry at times. That's often at the centre of a child's imperfect behaviour, and it's at the centre of a parent's imperfect response.

Consider a typical incident in which a parent is driving with a child. "For some reason he was talking really loud. I asked him to be quiet, but he only got worse. Pretty soon he was screaming as loud as he could. I yelled at him to stop, but he kept ignoring me. He was making me nuts. Finally I leaned over and slapped him. He got quiet in a real hurry.'' There is no doubt that a smack or a slap can stop a child in his tracks. IF you spank a young child, they will generally stop the misbehaviour, but the quick fix is ineffective over time.

An adult's use of power to punish ignores the central emotional component of a child's attitude and actions. It fails to make a connection begging to be made. Instead of teaching responsible, moral behaviour, when we use harsh discipline, we pass up that "teachable moment'' -- the window of opportunity for helping children reflect on their actions and learn a better way. It is clear that a child's experience of discipline is influential in shaping their conscience, for better or for worse.

Instead of fostering the development of internal controls, harsh discipline reinforces the idea that discipline comes from external forces -- from parents, principals, the cops, or the courts. Instead of leading a child toward better decision making, it prevents her from internalizing the values -- and learning the lessons of empathy, respect and reason -- that lead to responsible, moral behaviour and emotional accountability. Those lost links weaken the chain of conscience as a child moves through life. Harsh disciplinary methods, because of their high intensity, leave their traces in experiential memory. So although a child may remember being punished for something she said or did, what she most remembers is where she was, how afraid she felt, and what her parent's face looked like contorted with anger and disgust. She is much less likely to internalise the intended lesson, especially when it is a general rule such as "it is important to be nice to other people and not hit them.'' Smacking a young child to reprimand her will startle her and shame her into either tears or silence. Whatever the momentary gain is for the disciplinarian, for the girl the lesson in shame and anger is lasting.

One of the robust findings about the lives of men who went on to become violent criminals is that many of them had a history of being raised in a context of harsh, inconsistent discipline. The voices of young offenders ring with rage at this parental maltreatment. I know one young man who said "parents think they can help a kid by hitting, and it makes them worse... the anger just stays inside him...the pain gets too much for him.'' Of course, not all children who grow up under a parent's iron fist turn shame into anger and anger into violence. Many turn their shame and anger inward, where it dims their outlook on life and darkens their experience of their more loving relationships. The sadness reaches into every facet of their lives and tarnishes the emotional potential for even the most ordinary joys and pleasure.

So, what's the alternative? Good discipline guides a child and their energy, providing a sense of physical and emotional security they need in order to learn the larger lessons of self-control and moral behaviour. Good discipline is consistent; it provides clear and well-reasoned expectations and firm, compassionate guidance by adults who model the same standards and behaviour in their daily interactions with a child and with others. Good discipline engages a child, encourages contact instead of isolation, draws them into discussion instead of sending them away. It involves the child as a consultant. Ask, "What is it you don't understand about this rule or don't agree with? Or "what do you need in order to change this pattern of behaviour?'' There's an old saying that goes something like, "If you're so smart, why aren't you rich?'' Along those lines, if good discipline works so well, why don't we just practice it? Because it's work. It takes a lot more time and effort to spend the hour with your child that he needs then it does to yell at him and then go do your own thing, whether it's work or watching TV. Parents often don't follow through with commitments they make to change parenting habits that aren't working. The familiarity of old habits -- even ineffective ones -- works against change. Nobody's perfect; we all make mistakes, whether they're in our actions, our words, or our assumptions. When our disciplinary style encourages mutual understanding, it helps children become better children by leading to improved connections with others instead of alienation.

Nothing good forces us to act aggressively toward our minor children. Yet, for some of us, there seems to be some mistaken, unfounded `sense of duty' to do it. I believe that this `sense' may be the result of a self-conscious feeling that other parents in our family or social group know better than we, what we should do. As children, we maybe saw our parents and other adults do things that we remember as right and good. Spanking children is one of those things that we memorised. We copy that behaviour with our own children.

We think, therefore, that we are surely being a good and proper parent. We are following tradition. However, tradition and morality are separate standards.

If after considering the consequences, licks are still equated with love, and corporal punishment is still believed to be part of the culture, it only serves to emphasise the disturbing truth; we live in a culture of abuse. At some point, the lesson learned was one of power and fear rather than one of morality and responsibility. And it is that lesson we continue to teach our children today.