My Toddler is a master negotiator: Unpacking the 8,000 annual negotiations you never knew you had

Ever feel like you’re constantly in a tug-of-war, even when you’re just trying to get someone to put on their shoes? Congratulations, you’re a parent! And if you have a toddler, you’re likely engaged in a daily, high-stakes, unscripted negotiation marathon. Forget boardrooms and complex contracts; your little one is demonstrating “negotiation genius” right there in your living room!

Turns out, like it or not, you are a negotiator.

This isn’t just about big business deals; it’s about convincing your child when the lights should go out or whether they should get a dog. In fact, it’s estimated that you might have 8,000–10,000 negotiations annually. And if you have a toddler, I’m pretty sure a good 7,999 of those are before noon.

Why is your pint-sized progeny such a natural? Because kids are born with the ability to negotiate. They’ve got Rule 11 of the Conflict Playbook (never accept the other side’s first offer) imprinted in their DNA. While parents often misread this nascent bargaining behaviour as uppity, and try to stamp it out, they’re actually just honing skills that would make a seasoned diplomat blush.

Let’s break down some classic toddler negotiation tactics:

• • • The extreme initial offer (aka “starting high”): You say, “One cookie.” Your toddler, channeling their inner master negotiator, demands, “Fifty cookies and a pony!”. They instinctively know that if you ask for more (within reason), you’ll get more. And hey, where other parents might see a greedy brat, I see a child starting high. This opening is supposed to be rejected and is purely for positioning purposes.
  • • The flinch (or “toddler tantrum, professional edition”): You propose 15 chocolate chips. Your toddler’s face contorts. They might gasp in shock or put their hands on their cheeks and dropped their jaw. This isn’t just emotion; it’s a standard negotiating technique designed to make you think their offer is “ridiculous”. Don’t worry, it’s just pure theater.
  • • The “it’s my bottom line!” Bluff: Ever heard, “I’m not going to bed, EVER!”? Sounds a lot like it’s my bottom line’ is the biggest lie in negotiation. As parents, we quickly learn to train yourself to let such phrases go in one ear and out the other. They are to be afforded no value whatsoever. Good thing, because real non-negotiable demands are rare.
  • • Concessions as currency: When persuasion fails (e.g., “because i said so!”), you resort to concessions. These are how you “buy’ agreement”. “You can watch till the end if you promise to turn the TV off and come downstairs as soon as it’s over. O.K.?”. That’s an “if-then” statement, linking a concession to a desired behaviour. They then have bragging rights because they successfully negotiated for those extra five minutes of Paw Patrol.
  • • The nibble (“just one more”): You’ve settled on the bedtime story. The lights are dimming. And then: “Can I have one more sip of water?”. That’s a classic “nibble” – a small concession obtained at the very end of a negotiation, immediately before (and, most compellingly, in exchange for) closure. This stupid period at the negotiation’s end makes you particularly susceptible to just giving in for the sake of peace. The post-negotiation remorse you feel (“did I leave things on the table?”) is a feature, not a bug, for your tiny opponent.
  • • Leveraging their BATNA (Best Alternative To a Negotiated Agreement): They may not consciously know their BATNA, but they act on it. If Junior prefers taking money from your wallet to mowing the lawn, and you don’t secure the alternative, you lose your leverage. Recognising your child’s (often unspoken) best alternative is key to getting them to buy what you’re selling.
  • • The “salami negotiation” (or “just five more minutes!”): Your child avoids the big homework battle by asking for five more minutes of screen time. This breaks down the issue into smaller parts, allowing them to postpone the inevitable, one tiny slice at a time.
  • • The listening deficit: The average person can listen at 175 words per minute but think at 2,000 words per minute. This often leads to talking over each other or missing the big picture. Your toddler, however, is a master of selective listening, only hearing the parts of your argument that support their desired outcome. After all, negotiators, in general, talk entirely too much.

So, the next time your toddler digs in their heels over the green beans, remember: you’re not just parenting, you’re engaged in a sophisticated, if absurd, negotiation. “Negotiation is a basic means of getting what you want from others”, and your toddler is simply ahead of the curve. Just remember to aim for a “win-win” outcome, because, unlike in business, the other side survives the talks and you’ll have to deal with them again tomorrow.

Compiled by Eugene Opperman (B.Proc. LLB.) (LSSA L.E.A.D., ADR Network, FAMAC, NABFAM), a legal practitioner and accredited mediator.