Stop Telling Kids to Punch Pillows
The myth of catharsis and what actually helps kids cope
Colin was four years old when I first heard from his mother, Lili. A few months earlier, Lili had given birth to Colin’s baby sister, and since then, Colin was angry and aggressive, lashing out at school and at home.
Lili wasn’t the type of parent to ignore a problem. She was thoughtful and clinically minded. She kept up with the latest research and joined a local parenting group. So when Colin’s temper would start to flare, she knew what she needed to do: she encouraged him to go to his room and take out his frustration on his Nugget couch. She suggested a similar approach to his preschool teacher, who created a “feelings corner” where Colin could bang on a pillow when he got upset. The other moms in her parenting group thought this was exactly right. They agreed that Colin just needed a safe outlet for his anger. Once he got it all out, he’d be fine.
But he wasn’t fine. As the weeks went by, Colin seemed angrier and more aggressive than ever. Lili came to me frustrated and confused.
Lili isn’t alone. In my practice, I encounter versions of this story nearly every day. Fifteen-year-olds who insist they need to slam their bedroom doors and scream expletives. Parents who say that yelling helps to blow off steam. The underlying assumption is always the same: letting out aggression in a relatively harmless way is a healthy, productive way of handling our angry impulses.
It seems reasonable. But it’s wrong.
The roots of this misconception stretch back all the way to Aristotle, who wrote about “katharsis”—a form of emotional release through drama. Sigmund Freud extended this idea, theorizing that negative emotions build up within individuals like pressure in a vessel, and that discharging those emotions is the best way to reduce them. Today, we’ve fully bought into the therapeutic benefits of catharsis. We think we operate like pressure cookers: if we don’t vent the steam, we’ll explode. This idea has been popularized by everyone from pop culture figures to self-help writers to mental health professionals themselves.
But study after study demonstrates that venting anger does not, in fact, reduce it. Research shows no reduction in physiological arousal after venting. And venting doesn’t help us treat other people better afterward.
Some people argue, “What’s the harm? If beating up a Nugget couch or pillow isn’t hurting anyone, why not let people do it?”
The problem is that it can be harmful. Venting often increases hostility and aggression rather than reducing it. It makes the anger persist longer than it would otherwise and elevates both psychological and physiological arousal.
So why do we keep doing it?
First, there’s social learning. We see other people reacting to anger with expressions of aggression and hostility—screaming, cursing, stomping their feet. We’re told this is a safe and acceptable way to deal with anger, so we do the same. Over time, it becomes a habit.
Second, there’s a weird short-term payoff. It genuinely feels good to act angrily and aggressively in the moment. That pleasant feeling reinforces the behavior, making it more likely to occur in the future.
Finally, anger always dissipates on its own. Over time, we inevitably feel less angry and return to baseline. And then we mistakenly credit the venting for what was really just the passage of time.
So what should we do instead? If we’re going to stick with the pressure cooker metaphor, the best way to avoid an explosion isn’t to vent the steam; it’s to lower the heat. The evidence supports what we might call the “fake it til you make it” approach: act calm, and the calm feelings will follow.
Here are some strategies that actually work, many borrowed from cognitive behavioral therapy:
Cognitive restructuring: Challenging and reframing angry thoughts
Thought stopping: Interrupting angry ruminations
Deep breathing and progressive muscle relaxation: Lowering physiological arousal
Taking a time-out: Pausing to reset
Turning attention to pleasant topics and activities: Redirecting focus
Doing the opposite: Actively do something kind instead of hostile
Now, let me be clear: if a child is routinely acting physically aggressive toward other children, expecting them to eliminate all aggressive behavior immediately is unrealistic. In that context, redirecting them to hit a pillow instead of a person is a reasonable intermediate step. But it shouldn’t be the end goal, because hitting the pillow isn’t actually teaching them to cope with anger effectively.
So, when Lili came into my office saying that Colin just needed to let his anger out, I told her that her instinct to help was right. But the strategy was wrong, and it was bound to only make things harder.
The next time your child is angry—or you are—try something different. Take a breath. Lower the heat. The pressure will dissipate on its own.
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