Thoughts on corporal punishment

Posing shots with cane. 25 Jan 2015 CHAN TAK KONG/The Star

Smacking a child can result in short-term compliance, but there are long-term consequences.

The rotan in our house was kept on top of the dining room cabinet. High enough to be out of reach unless I tiptoe on the dining chair. I know this because once I hid the cane to avoid a punishment. I thought it was funny how poorly they hid it (it was in plain sight). But it wasn’t so funny when my parents found out.

At school, I was sent to the principal’s office a few times; once because I had the temerity to tell my teacher that what she was teaching was “not useful”, another time because I told a different teacher the working she had on her blackboard was “wrong” (it was). Although only the principal caned me on my behind, some teachers had caned my palms, and from time to time I was the target of various pieces of blackboard paraphernalia, be it a piece of chalk, a duster or one of those three-foot long rulers.

I wonder if I can retroactively get some sort of compensation for my tribulations. Since 2006, the Ministry of Education has directed that only principals can execute corporal punishment on students. Other guidelines include that it can only be done to boys. This seems horribly sexist to me.

For a moment last week, it sounded like the Minister of Women, Family and Community Development said that parents who cane their children could be prosecuted under the new Child Act that is currently being drafted.

Having a law that prohibits corporal punishment on children by parents is not unusual. At the moment, at least 43 countries have laws prohibiting corporal punishment, including Kenya, Costa Rica and Turkmenistan.

However, the Ministry quickly issued a clarification saying that the revised laws would not apply to parents and educators. Nevertheless, it opened the floodgates to debate in the press and the Internet. Some, like the NGO Voice of the Children, lauded the decision, saying: “Other methods should be looked into to encourage and teach our children, which requires time and effort”.

Others, like those from Pertubuhan Martabat Jalinan Muhibbah Malaysia (MJMM) claimed that caning is used to guide children, and is part of Islam. Reference was made to a key scene in Anakku Sazali, in which the playboy son blames his errant ways on his father who never punished him as a child.

Clearly, you have a winning argument when you can invoke dialogue from a P. Ramlee film.

One thing all do agree on is that caning can be considered to be commonplace in Malaysia. Statistics are not easy to come by, but a study on students in the East Coast indicated that more than half the university students surveyed were subjected to corporal punishment at home when younger. Furthermore, the majority of interviewees viewed corporal punishment favourably as a way of helping the child.

In a survey, children in the United States (who are generally seen to be more vocal in standing up for their rights), are said to “show an interesting mix of opposition to corporal punishment and yet acceptance of it, almost as a recognition that it is a parental right and a fact of life”.

But when does caning to discipline cross the line? Abusers probably don’t see anything wrong with what they’re doing. In the US survey quoted above, 5% of well-meaning parents said their punishments sometimes inadvertently caused bruising and welts. Even third parties may not be assessing abuse correctly. A review of the state of physical punishment in Britain worryingly stated that juries “have acquitted parents who have hit children with whips, canes, riding crops, electric flexes, belts, and other implements, causing severe bruising, wheals and cuts”.

As for spoiling the child by sparing the rod (aka the Anak Sazali argument), studies have shown that although smacking can result in short-term compliance, there are long-term consequences. A study in Canada found a correlation between those who were slapped or spanked often with higher lifetime rates of anxiety disorders, alcohol abuse and disciplinary problems (“externalising behaviours”).

Another study in the US tracked children and found that those who were spanked more often would also exhibit more anti-social behaviour two years down the line. And a study in St Kitts (whose society is more accepting of corporal punishment), researchers found that although children were more accepting they needed to be punished (when compared to a more permissive society), they still were as negatively impacted psychologically by it.

So, studies suggest that there may be long-term issues in punishing your children physically. Yet, it is often heard by many: “I was caned as a child, and I am okay as a result of it”. It’s a bit like saying: “I never wear a seat belt, and have been driving for years without a problem”.

This sort of thinking confuses your chances of being in a life-threatening accident (very low), with your chances of dying without a seat belt (very high). Of course you should wear a seat belt if you can. A study in Putrajaya found only about half the drivers wear a seat belt, but imagine how much lower that number would be if it wasn’t illegal to do so – and how much higher the fatalities. In the same vein, a law against corporal punishment would make parents think twice about risking their child to having long-term issues resulting from physical punishment.

At the end of the day, laws are about balancing a freedom to act now with what is good for society in the long run. As of this moment, I have never caned anybody in my life. It may change with circumstances although I hope I still would think many times before swinging. Having a law would help. Or not keeping a rotan within easy reach on top of the dining room cupboard.

■ Logic is the antithesis of emotion but mathematician-turned-scriptwriter Dzof Azmi’s theory is that people need both to make sense of life’s vagaries and contradictions.