The Knowledge-Action Gap: Why “Knowing Better” Isn’t the Same as “Doing Better”

We’ve all been there—that moment of pure bewilderment where you look at your child and think: We have talked about this a thousand times. I know you understand the rule. So why are we doing this again?

Whether it’s the shoes left in the middle of the hallway, the third-period assignment that never got turned in, or the "attitude" that flared up when you asked a simple question, it feels intentional. It feels like a choice. We tell ourselves that if they truly cared, or if they were just more motivated, they would use the information we’ve given them.

But at JAM, we see a different reality. We see children who possess the knowledge but lack the access.

There is a biological "bridge" between knowing what to do and actually doing it. For kids who struggle with executive functioning or school-related stress, that bridge is often under construction or temporarily washed out.

The Executive Function Traffic Jam

Think of your child’s brain like a busy intersection. The "knowledge" (the rules, the math facts, the social expectations) are cars waiting at the light. Executive Functioning is the traffic signal.

When a child is regulated and calm, the light works perfectly. Green means go, and the knowledge flows into action.

However, when a child is tired, overstimulated, or anxious, the power to that signal goes out. The cars are still there—the knowledge hasn't disappeared—but there is no way for them to move through the intersection.

This is why a child can tell you exactly why they shouldn't yell at 4:00 PM, but find themselves screaming at 4:05 PM. The "knowledge" was in the car, but the "impulse control" signal was broken.

Understanding the "Flipped Lid"

We often try to solve these moments with more information. We explain, we lecture, we remind them of the consequences. But if the "traffic light" is out because of a power failure (stress), more cars (information) only make the jam worse.

At JAM, we live by the principle: Regulation before Expectation.

When a child is stressed, the "thinking" part of their brain (the prefrontal cortex) "flips" open. They are effectively operating from their survival brain. In this state, they physically cannot access the "files" containing the rules you’ve taught them. They aren't refusing to listen; they are temporarily unable to hear.

How to Build the Bridge (Instead of a Wall)

If we stop viewing these moments as a lack of motivation, we can start viewing them as a lack of support. Here is how to pivot:

1. Externalize the "Librarian" If your child can't find the information in their own head, put it in the environment. Don't ask, "What are you supposed to be doing?" That requires them to search a cluttered mental library. Instead, use a visual prompt or a gentle physical touch. A sticky note on the mirror or a checklist on the door acts as an external "executive" for their brain.

2. Prioritize Relationship Before Remediation When we see them failing at something they "know," our instinct is to correct. But correction feels like criticism to a child who is already struggling. Instead, try joining them. Sit on the floor while they clean. Stand in the kitchen while they do the dishes. Your calm presence—what we call "body doubling"—provides the nervous system regulation they need to get their own "traffic light" back online.

3. Value Progress Over Perfection If your child "knows" they shouldn't slam the door, and today they slammed it slightly less hard, or they slammed it but came back two minutes later to apologize—that is a win. That is the bridge being built. Acknowledge the effort it took for them to even try to regulate.

A Grounded Perspective

It is exhausting to repeat yourself. It is draining to feel like you are constantly "managing" a person who should be able to manage themselves. It’s okay to feel that weight.

But remember: your child is not their behavior. They are a person with a bright, capable mind who happens to have a tricky "delivery system."

When we stop saying "You know better" and start saying "I can see this is hard to navigate right now," we take the shame out of the equation. And once the shame is gone, the bridge between knowing and doing finally has the room it needs to grow.