Olivia: Alright Jackson, I'm going to say a book title, and I want your gut reaction, no filter. Ready? Jackson: Hit me. Olivia: Have a New Kid by Friday. Jackson: My reaction is: 'Sure, and I've got a bridge to sell you.' That sounds like a magic potion, not a parenting book. Olivia: It's an incredibly bold promise, right? But this comes from Dr. Kevin Leman, a psychologist with decades of experience. What's fascinating is that he's known for this very direct, no-nonsense style that has made his books bestsellers, but also pretty polarizing among readers. Jackson: Polarizing, I can already see why. So he's not just some guy with a catchy title, he's a serious psychologist? Olivia: Exactly. He has a PhD in psychology from the University of Arizona and has been in practice for over 40 years. And his whole premise is that the problem isn't the kid, it's the parent. He argues most of us are accidentally training our kids to be tiny, entitled tyrants. Jackson: Wow, okay. "Tiny, entitled tyrants." He's not pulling any punches. That's a strong claim. What does he even mean by that? Olivia: He has an even better term for it. He says that in most modern homes, the children are "unionized." Jackson: Unionized? Like they have a collective bargaining agreement for more screen time and less broccoli? Olivia: You're not far off! He means they've learned, often unintentionally, how to work together—or just work the system—to manipulate their parents. They know exactly which buttons to push, when to cry, when to give the silent treatment, to get what they want. The parents are exhausted, running on fumes, and the kids are running the show. Jackson: I think every parent listening just felt a little shiver of recognition. I've definitely seen that look on a parent's face at the grocery store. The look of utter defeat. Olivia: Leman opens with these incredibly vivid, almost painful-to-watch stories. There’s one about a toddler at a carousel. She cries to get a ride. The mom, worn down, gives in for just one. The ride ends, the toddler immediately starts wailing for another. The mom gives in again. And again. By the end, the toddler has had multiple rides, the mom is frazzled, and the lesson learned is crystal clear: persistence in screaming equals victory. Jackson: And the mom has just paid for a masterclass in manipulation, taught by a three-year-old. Olivia: Precisely. And he argues this isn't just a toddler phase. He gives examples of teenagers who yell expletives at their parents when they don't get money, or who defiantly push food they don't like onto the restaurant floor with a look that says, "I dare you to do something about it here." He sees it as a full-blown epidemic of entitlement. Jackson: Okay, so he's painted a pretty bleak picture of the modern family. He's basically saying parents have lost control. But is the only alternative to being a pushover to become some kind of drill sergeant? That feels like a false choice. Olivia: That is the central tension of the book, and what makes it so controversial. Leman's answer is no, you don't become a drill sergeant. You become what he would call an authoritative parent. A benevolent dictator, if you will. You are firm, you are in charge, but you are loving. The key isn't to rule with an iron fist, but to stop negotiating your authority away. Jackson: A benevolent dictator. I'm not sure how I feel about that title, but I'm intrigued. How does one even begin to stage that kind of coup in their own home?

Olivia: That's the perfect question, because it leads directly to his 'how-to.' The five-day plan is all about the parent changing, not the kid. He says you have to focus on the ABCs: Attitude, Behavior, and Character. And the most important one to start with is the parent's own attitude. Jackson: So this isn't about new chore charts or sticker systems. This is about a fundamental shift in the parent's mindset. Olivia: Exactly. He says you have to stop reacting and start responding. A reaction is emotional, it's yelling, it's getting drawn into the argument. A response is calm, planned, and decisive. And his number one tool for this is a principle he repeats over and over: Let reality be the teacher. Jackson: That sounds profound, but what does it actually look like in practice? Isn't that just a nice way of saying 'let your kid fail'? Olivia: It is, and he argues that's a good thing! He tells this incredible story about a four-year-old named Matthew. Matthew is in a foul mood after preschool and tells his mom "I hate you!" in the car. Jackson: Ouch. A classic dagger to the parental heart. Olivia: A total dagger. Now, the old mom would have either freaked out or tried to appease him. But this mom is trying Leman's plan. They get home, and Matthew, as usual, asks for his after-school snack: cookies and milk. It's their routine. Jackson: And let me guess, the new-and-improved mom has a different plan. Olivia: She does. She calmly says, "No, we're not having cookies and milk today." Matthew is stunned. He asks why. She says, simply and without anger, "Because I didn't like the way you spoke to me in the car. It hurt my feelings." Jackson: Whoa. That's a power move. What does Matthew do? Olivia: He does what any four-year-old would do. He has a complete and total meltdown. He follows her from room to room, crying, demanding, pleading. The mom just continues her tasks, calm and unfazed. Finally, after the storm passes, a tearful Matthew comes to her and apologizes. He says he's sorry. Jackson: Okay, so it worked! He apologized. Now he gets the cookies, right? That's the reward for the good behavior. Olivia: This is the most important part of the story. The mom accepts his apology warmly. She says, "Thank you for your apology, I accept it." Then Matthew, thinking he's cracked the code, asks again, "Can I have my cookies and milk now?" And the mom, just as calmly, says, "No. I accepted your apology, but we're still not having cookies and milk today. We can try again tomorrow." Jackson: Oh, man. That is cold-blooded. But I kind of get it. The consequence remains, regardless of the apology. Olivia: Exactly. Reality was the teacher. The reality was: when you are disrespectful, you lose privileges. It's not a negotiation. Leman says Matthew was stunned, but he walked away. And you can bet the next day he thought twice before saying "I hate you." The parent held the line. Jackson: That story is powerful. But I have to admit, a part of me feels... uneasy. Withholding a snack from a four-year-old, especially after he apologized, feels a little bit mean. A lot of modern parenting advice, especially gentle parenting, would argue that you're prioritizing obedience over connection. You risk damaging their psyche. Olivia: Leman addresses this head-on. It's the whole point of his chapter titled, "But What If I Damage Their Psyche?" He argues that we've confused self-esteem with self-worth. Jackson: What's the difference, in his view? Olivia: He says self-esteem is often built on empty praise. "You're so smart! You're the best artist!" It links a child's value to their performance. Self-worth, on the other hand, is built on three pillars: Acceptance, Belonging, and Competence. Jackson: Okay, break those down for me. Olivia: Acceptance is unconditional love. You are loved no matter what. Belonging is the feeling that "We are a family, we're a team, this is where you belong." And Competence is the feeling of "I can do this." And you only get competence by actually doing things, and sometimes failing at them. By letting Matthew experience the real-world consequence of his words, his mom was allowing him to build competence in managing his behavior and emotions. She wasn't praising him; she was encouraging him to be a better person. Jackson: So letting reality be the teacher is actually a tool for building competence. Olivia: That's the argument. He tells another story about a 10-year-old daughter who refuses to take out the garbage. The parent, instead of nagging and yelling, just says okay and walks away. Later, the daughter wants to go to the store. The parent calmly says no. The daughter misses out. The garbage got taken out by someone else, but the daughter learned that B—going to the store—doesn't happen until A—doing your chore—is completed. Jackson: B doesn't happen until A is completed. That's a simple but incredibly effective rule. It takes the emotion out of it. It’s not a punishment, it’s just… the order of operations. Olivia: It's the law of the household universe. And it requires zero yelling. The parent's calm consistency is the ultimate tool. They are responding, not reacting.

Jackson: You know, as we talk through this, it's becoming clear that the provocative title is a bit of a misdirection. The book isn't really about getting a "new kid." Olivia: What is it about, then? Jackson: It's about becoming a "new parent." The kid doesn't magically change. The parent changes. The parent stops being a reactive, emotional, pleading manager and becomes a calm, consistent, and decisive leader. The child's behavior is just a reflection of that new parental stance. Olivia: That's a perfect synthesis. The change isn't a magic trick; it's a strategic and intentional shift in the family's power dynamics. Leman's core message is that children desperately crave boundaries. They need to know where the walls are to feel secure. When a parent is inconsistent—sometimes yelling, sometimes giving in—the child feels anxious because they don't know what to expect. Jackson: It's like they're constantly testing the walls to see if they're real today. Olivia: Exactly. And when you, as the parent, calmly and lovingly hold that wall firm every single time, you're not being mean. Leman would argue you're giving them the greatest gift you can: the security of a predictable and safe world. That consistency is a profound expression of love. Jackson: It's a challenging idea, though. It really forces you to look in the mirror and ask a tough question: Am I parenting for my child's short-term happiness, or for their long-term character? Olivia: A tough question for any parent. And the answer probably lies somewhere in the middle. Leman's approach has been criticized for being too rigid, for potentially missing the nuance of a child's emotional needs. But for parents who feel like they're at the end of their rope, it offers a clear, actionable plan to restore order. Jackson: It’s a powerful tool, but maybe not the only tool in the toolbox. Olivia: I think that's a great way to put it. We'd love to know what you think. Does this approach feel empowering or outdated? Is it a necessary course correction or a step back from more connected parenting? Find us on our socials and join the conversation. We're always curious to hear your take. Jackson: This is Aibrary, signing off.