People often talk about having "good" and "bad" memories; but that's just a statement about whether they liked them or not. Most people want to have only pleasant memories, and think they'd be much happier if all their bad memories went away. But imagine what your life would be like if you never had any bad experiences! What if you grew up and everything was wonderful all the time? You'd grow up to be a wimp, totally unable to cope; there are quite a few examples in this country.

Once I had a 24–year–old client who had been on valium since he was twelve. The only time he left his house was to go to the dentist, the doctor, or the psychiatrist. He'd been through five psychiatrists, but as far as I could tell, the major thing that was wrong with him was that he hadn't left his house in twelve years. Now his mother and father thought he should be out on his own. His father owned a big construction company, and complained to me, "That boy, it's time he got out on his own." I thought, "You turkey, you're twelve years too late. What are you going to do, give him your company so he can support you?" That company would have a life expectancy of about two days,

Since this kid had lived twelve years of his life on valium, he hadn't had many experiences — until they sent him to me! I made him go all kinds of places and do lots of weird things —either that or I'd beat the stuffing out of him. When he hesitated the first time and said he couldn't do something, I hit him really hard; that was the beginning of having experience. It was just an expedient way; I wouldn't recommend that you do this with most people. But there are times when a good rap on the side of the head constitutes the beginning of building a motivation strategy. Some of you may remember how that works from your younger years. I just put him in a lot of situations where he had to learn to cope with difficulties, and deal with other human beings. That gave him an experiential basis for living in the real world without the cushion of home, drugs, and a psychiatrist. The experiences I provided were a little more useful and relevant than talking to his psychiatrist about his childhood.

People say, "I can't do something" without realizing what those words mean. "Can't" in English is "can not" joined together. When somebody says, "I can't do it," he's saying he "can" — is able to — "not do it," which is always true. If you stop and pay attention, and listen to words, you begin to hear things that tell you what you can do.

I once worked with somebody who wanted to open a shyness and flirtation clinic. She brought me a bunch of people who were shy. I always thought shy people were shy because they thought about unpleasant things that would happen — like rejection, or being laughed at. I started asking these people my usual questions, "How do you know when to be shy? You're not shy all the time." Like all the things people do, shyness requires some process. It's no easy task. One man said, "I know it's time to be shy when I know that I'm going to meet somebody." "Well, what makes you shy?" "I don't think they'll like me." That statement is very different from "I think they won't like me." He literally said "I don't" — I do engage in the activity of not — "think they'll like me." He thinks anything else but that the person will like him. There were some people in the next room, so I said to him, "I want you to think that they'll like you." "OK." "Are you shy about meeting them?" "No." That seems a little too easy, but basically, what works always turns out to be easy.

Unfortunately in psychotherapy there isn't much incentive to find out what works quickly and easily. In most businesses, people get paid by succeeding at something. But in psychotherapy you get paid by the hour, whether anything is accomplished or not. If a therapist is incompetent, he gets paid more than someone who can achieve change quickly. Many therapists even have a rule against being effective. They think that influencing anyone directly is manipulative, and that manipulation is bad. It's as if they said, "You're paying me to influence you. But I'm not going to do it because it's not the right thing to do," When I saw clients, I always charged by the change, rather than by the hour; I only got paid when I got results. That seemed like more of a challenge.

The reasons that therapists use to justify their failures are really outrageous. Often they'll say, "He wasn't ready to change." That's a "jive excuse" if there ever was one. If he's "not ready," how can anyone justify seeing him week after week and charging him money? Tell him to go home, and to come back when he's ready"! I always figured if somebody "wasn't ready to change," then it was my job to make him ready.

What if you took your car to a mechanic, and he worked on it for a couple of weeks, but it still didn't work. If he told you, "The car wasn't ready to change," you wouldn't buy that excuse would you? But therapists get away with it day after day.

The other standard excuse is that the client is "resistant." Imagine that your mechanic told you that your car was "resistant." "Your car just wasn't mature enough to accept the valve job. Bring it in again next week, and we'll try again." You wouldn't accept that excuse for a minute. Obviously the mechanic either doesn't know what he's doing, or the changes he's trying to make are irrelevant to the problem, or he's using the wrong tools. The same is true of therapeutic or educational change. Effective therapists and teachers can make people "ready to change," and when they're doing the right thing, there won't be any resistance.

Unfortunately, most humans have a perverse tendency. If they're doing something and it doesn't work, they'll usually do it louder, harder, longer, or more often. When a child doesn't understand, a parent will usually shout the exact same sentence, rather than try a new set of words. And when punishment doesn't change someone's behavior, the usual conclusion is that it wasn't enough, so we have to do it more.

I always thought that if something wasn't working, that might be an indication that it was time to do something else! If you know that something doesn't work, then anything else has a better chance of working than more of the same thing.