YOUR ten-year-old son is minding his own business in the school playground.

A boy from another class goes over to him, shouts a cruel name in his face before punching him in the stomach for no reason.

He is left winded and upset, but what should he do next? Hit back at the aggressor or run to tell his teacher what happened?

My friend James (not his real name), told me his lad was faced with this situation recently. He followed his dad's advice to the letter and hit the boy back in the face, leaving him with a black eye.

"I've always said that if anyone hits him then he should punch them straight back, preferably on the nose," James said. "I've always believed that he should be able to defend himself."

But James was left troubled when the consequences of this advice landed his son in trouble with the school's head.

Not only was he put on report while the pupil who struck first escaped with a warning, but James was also ticked off.

"I had a meeting with the head and explained the advice I gave my son if he was ever attacked. The head's response was that my view was disgraceful and irresponsible.

"I was told that retaliation was never an option and that any such incident must be immediately reported to a teacher."

James, like many parents I suspect, feels justified in teaching his son to fight fire with fire in order to protect him in the long run.

He argues that in the world of the playground jungle the best way to beat the bullies is to stand up to them. "If my lad had gone straight to the teacher and not defended himself then he would have been seen as an easy target and picked on again," James told me.

"By responding like he did I'm sure he won't be bothered again."

James wondered whether I thought he had given the right advice to his son. As a non-parent I didn't feel qualified to pass judgement, although I would instinctively go for the peaceful solution where possible.

The fathers and teachers I've spoken to are split on the issue. What do you think?

Undoubtedly the playground can be a harsh, stressful environment with its own set of rules and ways of resolving matters.

Running off to tell teacher every time something kicks off can have its own consequences. No one likes being labelled a "grass" or "snitch".

On the other hand, there must be thousands of victims of bullying who suffer unnecessarily because they fail to speak out.

I once had an issue with a lad and his older cronies who targeted me in my early years at secondary school. It came to a head one lunch time when I took a beating.

I'd like to say I did press-ups every night and learned karate until I was confident enough to confront him by the bike sheds.

In reality, though, I ran to my form tutor, cried like a baby and she sorted out the whole thing.

I was amused to hear how schools dealt with playground conflicts in the "old days".

My father-in-law recalled that at the former York all-boys school, St Johns (now St John's College), which he attended in the early-1960s, pupils were given permission to fight it out.

Anyone caught throwing punches was given boxing gloves and told to find a friend to act as their "corner man". A makeshift boxing ring was set up in the assembly hall and a teacher would referee three-round bouts between the warring pair, cheered on by the whole school.

"The teacher would stop it when there was an obvious winner," he said. "It always sorted out the issue."

Another relative recalls a similar approach at his York secondary modern.

Such a tactic is unthinkable today, but would surely have settled the problem faced by James's son.

Standing up to classroom tormentors does work. I once teased a puny school mate (now my brother-in-law) relentlessly about his eczema until one day he cracked and offered to meet me outside after school.

Hundreds gathered for the showdown, but I couldn't face the potential humiliation of him flooring me with a lucky haymaker. I did the cowardly thing and hid in a classroom until the crowd had dispersed.

Never again did I shout "scabby hands" within his earshot.

Updated: 11:00 Friday, January 20, 2006