The "For Your Own Good" Trap: Adult Power Over Children 2026

The phrase "it's for your own good" is one of the most familiar lines in parenting, and it deserves a closer look. It rests on the assumption that an adult always knows better than a child what that child needs, simply because the adult is older or gave the child life.

That assumption may feel legitimate: we do have more experience, and some situations clearly require adult intervention. Nobody would let a child drink dish soap. But intervention does not need to be violent, punitive or humiliating to be effective.

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This article explores how domination can hide behind the language of education, and how parents can notice the pattern and adjust course.

Quick takeaways

• "It's for your own good" can hide a power game, even when well-intentioned.
• Real intervention is possible without punishment or humiliation.
• Forcing a child to finish the plate can blur hunger and satiety cues.
• Respecting refusal protects the child's integrity and consent.
• Repetition is what turns clumsiness into psychological violence.
• Not doing as others want is not the same as doing harm.

When "For Your Own Good" Becomes Power

Some of the violence adults exercise over children comes from a quiet conviction: that we know what is good for them. The famous "it's for your own good" leans on the idea that the adult necessarily knows better, for the simple reason of being older or having given the child life.

In her book on psychological violence, Ariane Calvo reminds us that anyone who claims to know better than someone else what is good for them is already in a power game, consciously or not. In the adult-child relationship, misopedy drapes domination in the word "education."

This is why children misbehaving deserves a second look: what looks like defiance is often a child defending a need. The same applies to everyday struggles like baby hiccups, which are not misbehaviour at all. Calvo is direct: nobody should impose anything on you without explaining it, proposing it and waiting for your consent.

The Consent Test

Whoever wants to make you believe they know better than you what is good for you is already beginning a form of violence, by denying your identity and your ability to say for yourself what is good and what is not. This principle holds whether the task is as small as learning to write or as large as shaping a child's sense of self.

The Everyday Example of the Dinner Plate

As parents, we can notice when we slip into this posture and correct course, recognizing that we wanted to impose our will. Take the classic case: forcing a child to finish the plate with the argument "it's for your health."

What actually happens? We risk blurring the child's sensations of appetite and satiety, pulling them away from trusting their own tastes, and associating food with conflict. In the end, we are not acting for their good at all.

Mealtimes are a training ground for autonomy, and introduction of solids shows how early this respect begins. If a child eats little, leaves the table or sorts foods, that is information, not a battle to win. The same respectful attention applies beyond the table, as with a hip sprain or when facing disturbing trends like the Blue Whale challenge.

Freedom at the table is not neglect; it is trust. And trust, unlike pressure, keeps the child connected to their own body.

Refusal, Respect and the Child's Integrity

When a child expresses refusal toward a parent's wish and the parent understands and gives freedom, there is no psychological violence. The interaction stays healthy, and the child learns that their voice matters.

If instead the adult insists that the child accept something or a situation they do not want, it means the adult is not respecting the child's otherness, their integrity, and is not concerned with their consent.

This is where good father habits matter: the parent who can pause and ask "did I explain, propose and wait?" is already doing the work. Calvo's quote applies fully here, because consent is not a luxury reserved for adults.

The same respect shows up in small choices, like letting a child pick an activity or a toy, or simply say no to a game they dislike. Refusal is not rejection of the parent; it is the child practicing self-knowledge.

From Clumsiness to Psychological Violence

It is the systematicity and repetition of this type of behavior that separates clumsiness from psychological violence. A single tired evening is not the same as a pattern.

When the child's opinion is never consulted or respected, the child ends up developing a lack of confidence. As an adult, the person becomes convinced that nothing they suggest, like or prefer is relevant. They experience themselves as uninteresting and unworthy of love.

Many adults subjected to the tyranny of "it's for your own good" have become strangers to their emotions, needs, desires and pleasures. This is a heavy inheritance, and it is worth interrupting early, as a single father's letter reminds us.

That is why phrases to children carry such weight: repeated words shape how a child sees themselves. If a child is constantly told they are wrong to want what they want, they learn to distrust their own inner compass.

Not Doing "Well" Is Not Doing Harm

If we are not meeting the other's expectations, we are never sure we are doing well. And for some of us, not doing well means doing harm, which is actually different.

Not doing well can mean exploring, doing differently, creating, thinking, imagining, being wrong (and that is okay), wanting to try something else, understanding by testing. And not doing as the other wants is just that: not doing as they want, not "not doing well."

This reframing frees both parent and child. It allows room for extracurricular activities chosen by the child rather than imposed, and for hobbies that look pointless but build confidence.

It also lets us loosen our grip on outcomes, whether in play, learning or daily routines. A child who is allowed to experiment learns that mistakes are information, not failure, and that their preferences have value even when they differ from ours.

My hands-on take

I remember catching myself mid-sentence one evening: "Finish your plate, it's for your health." My child looked at me, not defiant, just tired and full. I stopped, and we talked about what full feels like. It was awkward, honestly, because part of me wanted the plate empty.

Since then I try a simple pause before imposing anything: did I explain, propose, and wait? Sometimes I fail, and I say so out loud. What changed most is the atmosphere at the table and the way my child now tells me when something feels wrong, instead of quietly enduring it.

Frequently asked questions

Does respecting a child's consent mean letting them do anything?

No. Safety limits still apply, such as not letting a child drink dish soap. The difference is that limits are explained and enforced without humiliation, punishment or violence.

How do I know if I have crossed the line?

Look for repetition. An occasional clumsy moment is normal, but a pattern where the child's opinion is never consulted or respected is what distinguishes clumsiness from psychological violence.

Why does forcing a child to finish their plate matter so much?

It can blur their sensations of hunger and satiety and associate food with conflict. Over time, the child may stop trusting their own appetite and tastes.

Can this affect a person into adulthood?

Yes. Adults raised under constant "for your own good" pressure may become strangers to their emotions, needs and desires, and doubt that their preferences matter.