Psychology Today Blogs - Jay Belsky, Ph.D.

Middle Age Begins Before Birth

Jay Belsky, Ph.D. — Tue, 12 Aug 2008 07:12:54 -0700

In my previous blog entry I floated the argument that for some it is commonsensical that what happens early in life is of little importance to how individuals turn out later in life. Without embracing this view, I pointed out that some psychologists argue, seemingly convincingly, that "it would make no sense for life-span development to be shaped by what happens to a baby, a toddler or even an older preschool child. Life is long and adulthood is far away in time from the early years, so evolution would never craft an organism whose future functioning was influenced in important ways by experiences had at the hand of his parents--or others--very early in life."

It appears to be indisputably the case that, at least in some respects, this claim is fundamentally false. Indeed, one of the remarkable discoveries of recent years, which warms the cockles of the heart of this developmentalist who has long embraced the view that experiences early in life are of consequence to later development, is that experiences in the womb prior to birth shape physical health in middle age! More specifically, medical research reveals that poor growth in the womb, often leading to low birth weight and frequently a result of poor or limited maternal and, thereby, fetal nutrition, results in increased probability of obesity, diabetes and heart disease in middle age. Before saying anything more, let me make clear that it is most certainly not the case that each and every one of us who was under-nourished as a fetus and/or who was born prematurely (like myself), will succumb to one or more of these "metabolic diseases" by the time they are 40 or 50, if not before. Nevertheless, the empirical link between experience in the womb and health in middle age has now been chronicled with sufficient frequency that the skepticism that this association met when first documented has given way to advances in scientific theory, health research and medical treatment. For those interested in learning more about the whys and wherefores of this relatively new set of early-experience findings, let me recommend the eminently readable volume by Peter Gluckman and Mark Hanson entitled The Fetal Matrix, published in 2004 by Oxford University Press (http://www.cambridge.org/aus/catalogue/catalogue.asp?isbn=9780521542357).

But what has this all got to do with psychology? Perhaps most obviously, health psychology is a major arena of the ever expanding field of psychological science, so it is now clear that those interested in physical health and its psychological repercussions would benefit from thinking developmentally--all the way back to the womb. But of more importance to this blog is that the dramatic and surprising discovery linking diseases of middle age with experiences had before birth severely undermines the confidence that can be placed in the putative common-sense logic with which I introduced this blog entry. Simply put, if the claim that natural selection would not shape development so that functioning in later life would be influenced by what happens much earlier in life does not apply to physical health, why should it apply to psychological and behavioral development? Only if one retains an untenable and outdated distinction between mind (i.e., psychology) and body (i.e., physical health) can one hold on to the "it-does-not-make-sense" argument. In other words, either it doesn't make sense for early experience to matter--at all--or it remains possible, even if not certain, that it does when it comes to psychological and behavioral fucntioning. Thus, evidence that very early experience--as a fetus--makes a difference to later life in major ways pertaining to life and death implies that other early experiences could also make a difference to later life.

Does how a young child is reared really matter?

Jay Belsky, Ph.D. — Wed, 30 Jul 2008 09:51:50 -0700

The answer to the question posed in the title is commonsensical to many, whether they be professionally trained child developmentalists or not. "Of course how a baby is cared for matters to his later development", many will claim. "In fact, it is crucial and critical for his later psychological well being. Sensitive, loving, supportive rearing results in a person feeling secure, being able to love and co-operate with others and even succeed occupationally." Freud, after all, linked the early mother-infant relationship to the capacity to love and to work in adulthood.

One thing that fascinates me is that what is common sense to some is more or less idiocy--I am being purposefully hyperbolic here--to others. "Any fool knows", these (professional and lay) naysayers will claim, "that how a child is treated across the first year or two (or more) of life matters little to the kind of person he ultimately turns out to be--so long as we are not talking about truly abusive care." In fact, some of them will argue, again on a common-sense basis, that "it would make no sense for life-span development to be shaped by what happens to a baby, a toddler or even an older preschool child." Life is long and adulthood is far away in time from the early years, so evolution would never craft an organism whose future functioning was influenced in important ways by experiences had at the hand of his parents--or others--very early in life. "It is what happens much later in life that determines the kind of people we become", these critics of what might be called "early experience fanaticism" often argue. Of course, there are those who contend that even such later life experiences don't matter a wit, as who we are and who we become is coded in our genes. It is nature, not nurture that shapes us.

I have long been intrigued by the "early experience question", most likely because it was my belief that what happens to you early in life shapes, at least in part, the kind of person you become that got me into the field of child development in the first place. This belief , though, was somewhat late in coming to me. After declining admission to the U.S. Military Academy at West Point, having desperately desired to attend this institution from at least the age of 7, and subsequently concluding that I did not want to study international affairs at Georgetown University where I enrolled as a freshman in the School of Foreign Service, I became intrigued with the issue of the effects of early experience almost by accident.

It is an interesting story so I will tell it, not as an exercise in navel gazing, but to make a point I am going to challenge in future blogs. The point to be challenged is that it is later life experiences, not early ones, that matter most to who we become. In my case, I was sitting under a tree at Georgetown, depressingly pondering my existence, having lost interest in the study of international affairs, suffering from what I subsequently came to appreciate was a classic "identity crisis" as defined by the famous child psychoanalyst Erik Erikson. Bottom line: I was lost, existentially that is. I simply did not know what I wanted to be when I grew up and did therefore not know who I was or what I wanted in life.

But fortuitously--though some of my academic colleagues may differ!--a fellow player on the university soccer team walked by in the manner of the Pied Piper. He had, as I recall, about a dozen 4-year olds in tow. "Where did you get them?", I remember asking as he walked by. Over his shoulder he called back, "From the University Hospital day care center; they are always looking for volunteers." And so began what was to turn first into a passionate interest in children and childhood, then a scientific interest in how early experience shapes later development, and thereby a career in developmental psychology.

But is the lesson of this personal tale that early experience does not matter? This is a question to be taken up in greater depth in future blogs. While randomness certainly played a role in my life--after all, where would I be today had this teammate not walked by?--one should not lose sight of the following facts: (a) I was in the midst of an identity crisis; (b) I asked my teammate where the children came from; (c) I followed up on his reply by becoming a volunteer at the day care center; and (d) I thereafter decided to transfer to anther college so that I could study child development.

Were these actions by me affected by my early developmental experiences? If they were, then saying that my life has been mostly shaped by experience in young adulthood would misrepresent the complex forces at work in it and the lives of so many of us (who are fortunate to live in a world where life choices really exist). But my purpose is not to turn this blog into an analysis of me, so you will not be hearing much more about my developmental experiences in future postings. I have simply used my own life to both illustrate a point that is common sense for some today--that what matters is not early but later life experiences--in order to begin a discussion of exactly the opposite and what others regard as common sense: early experience matters!

Co-parenting POORLY (in intact families)

Jay Belsky, Ph.D. — Tue, 08 Jul 2008 07:45:53 -0700

Like many other things in life, when it comes to co-parenting poorly, there are many ways to get the job done. There are acts of commission and of omission; that is, what a co-parent does and what she or he fails to do in the co-parenting role. Let me take the latter first, particularly because I made a point of noting in my previous post entitled "Co-parenting WELL" (http://blogs.psychologytoday.com/blog/a-family-affair/200806/co-parentin...) that one co-parenting act of commission--simply reiterating to a child a point made by one's partner in parenting--does not qualify as highly skilful co-parenting.

Even though reiterating to a child what one's parenting partner has already said does not represent the most skilled manner of co-parenting, there is most certainly a time and place for doing so. As a result, failing to do so--an act of omission--is one way to co-parent poorly. When a child fails to listen and heed one's partner and you just sit there and say nothing, that can be regarded by the child as a license to ignore the first parent. This is one reason why many a mother or father when faced with this situation turns to their parenting partner and says, typically in frustration, something like "Don't you have anything to say? Are you just going to sit there?"

The challenge, of course, is in selecting whether and when to re-state what one's partner has told the child already. Doing so all the time or when it is probably not necessary risks inadvertently undermining the first parent by, as I indicated in my previous blog, making it seem that the child only has to comply with the first parent's request because the second parent has now weighed in on the subject. But failing to repeat what one's partner has said when the child is not listening to, or ignoring or purposefully defying the first parent represents a co-parenting failure.

Even if failing to reiterate what one parent has said to a child can qualify as poor co-parenting, it is in acts of commission, rather than of omission, that serious co-parenting crimes get committed. It may help to recall the game of curling that I used in my previous blog as a metaphor for co-parenting, especially how the "sweeper" uses the broom to brush the ice in a way that speeds up or slows down the weight thrown by a teammate in order to increase its chances of hitting the target. Essentially, behaviors that serve to slow down the weight when it needs speeding up or speed up the weight when it really needs slowing down is at the heart of co-parenting poorly.

Imagine the common parenting situation discussed in my previous blog in which say a mother is trying to get her child to get undressed and take a bath, but the child is not cooperating. What does a supposed partner in parenting do in this situation that actively serves to undermine the first parent? Besides doing nothing when, if you would, the cavalry is called for, the co-parent can act as if the first parent has not made any request at all, distracting the child's attention from the first parent. So if one parent is with the child and their partner is the one trying to get the child to the bath, the first simply goes on dealing with the child as if the partner did not even exist. This is a form of passive aggression.

Even worse, though, is behaving in ways that not so much passively undermine one's parenting partner--saying nothing when something is called for or continuing what one was doing with the child when the partner made a request of or gave a directive to the child--but actively working against the partner's wishes. Consider in this regard a scene that I have witnessed on more than one occasion during home observations of families: Dad is both watching television and reading the paper while the 3-year old is on the floor playing with some toy characters. Mom, after (wisely) alerting the child earlier that in a short time she would be taking him up to the bath, returns to do just that "Time to go", she says, "the bath is waiting for you." And how does Mr. Poor Co-parenter behave? He says to the child, "Hey, look at this picture here in the paper." And so the boy jumps up and into dad's lap so they can both look at the photo together.

Now anyone witnessing only the father-child exchange just described might consider this a nice, caring dad, one who understands his son's curiosities and is prepared to teach him things when opportune moments arrive. But that is not what is really going on here, is it? This is another small skirmish in a co-parenting war that perhaps goes on at a low--or even high--level all the time in many families. By choosing to invite the child to do something interesting and attractive to the child at just the moment when it is not called for, dad subtlety sends a most-corrupting message to his child about his partner in parenting: "You really don't have to pay attention to what mom says."

But please do not jump to the conclusion that this is just a dad thing; mothers behave this way, too. In neither case is it developmentally beneficial to the child, admirable, or even grown up! To repeat something I--and others--have said before, no child wants to find him or herself in the middle, being used by one parent as a tool against the other. Doing so is one way the poor co-parenting operates.

Co-Parenting WELL (in Intact Families)

Jay Belsky, Ph.D. — Thu, 26 Jun 2008 10:14:46 -0700

"You heard your mother!" is what qualifies perhaps in many families as positive or supportive co-parenting. "Don't come to me because you didn't like what your father told you" represents a similar comment that many a child may also hear as one parent supports the position articulated by their partner. Even though the last thing I want to convey is that these kinds of co-parenting practices are inherently problematic--because there are all-too-many truly bad ones, the subject of my next blog--I do want to assert that they are fundamentally limited. Nevertheless, they do reflect the essence of positive co-parenting, namely, parents presenting a united front when it comes to raising their children, the focus of this blog.

Before proceeding to discuss ways to co-parent well, even skillfully, it needs to be made clear that this united-equals-positive equation should not be taken too literally or to extremes. Not only are parents individuals who will not always be on the same exact page, but being united should not be considered in the best interests of children and families if the parenting that parents agree on is itself questionable, to say nothing of abusive, neglectful, etc.

The game of curling, which most of us have little understanding of, to say nothing of interest in, represents to me a nice metaphor for co-parenting enacted at the highest level. Curling is a Scottish game played on ice in which a reasonably heavy weight with a flat bottom and a handle on top is "thrown" by one player toward a precise target some distance away; think bowling except that there are no pins to knock down, no alley with gutters to constrain the weight's movement and the thing that is throw is neither round nor dropped as a bowling ball is. Hopefully you've got the idea. What makes curling interesting to me from a co-parenting perspective is what the other players do if they judge the speed of the weight that has been thrown by the first player to be moving too quickly or too slowly relative to the precise target which teammates desire the weight to reach: They use a broom of sorts to sweep the ice in front of the weight as it moves toward the target.

If the weight is judged to be moving too fast and likely to over-shoot the target, the sweepers sweep across the ice, exactly perpendicular to the direction of the movement of the weight and immediately in front of it. This creates (very shallow) channels in the ice that generate friction when the weight crosses them, thereby slowing the weight, reducing its speed and likelihood of over-shooting the target. But if the weight is judged to be moving too slowly or slowing down too much so that it is likely to stop short of the target, the sweeper sweeps the ice in front of the weight in exactly the same direction that it is travelling. This has just the opposite effect of sweeping crossways; it reduces friction between the ice and the weight, thereby increasing its speedy and thus the energy available (from the original throw) to move the weight along. Because judgements of when to sweep, how much to sweep and with what vigor to sweep are fallible, the players in the sweeping roles can sweep in various ways as the weight moves along and is judged to be moving too fast or too slow relative to its current position at any particular moment. In other words, the sweepers do not just get a single chance to speed up or slow down the weight's velocity; indeed, if they have induced too much speed there will be a need to slow the weight down.

Returning to the topic at hand--co-parenting well--the thrower is, metaphorically, one parent dealing with the child and the sweeper is the other parent. It is the sweeper-parent's job to aid and abet the goal set for the child by the thrower parent. Now consider a situation that often arises in lots of families. One parent tells the child that it is time for bed or time for a bath or time to do something. What does the other parent do? Well sometimes doing nothing is not a bad choice, co-parenting-wise, especially if co-operation seems to be forthcoming from the child. Moreover, simply repeating a parenting directive stipulated by one's partner can actually undermine that parent's authority--rather than supporting it--if it conveys a sense that "you only need to do what mother (or father) says when I also say it." It would be a mistake, though, to leave the impression that reiterating the demands, requests, or directives of a partner is fundamentally misguided; nothing could be further from the truth.

But often the more skillful approach, especially when a child is not reasonably complying with a parent's request, is for the other parent to take out the metaphorical broom to sweep the child in a way that will facilitate it reaching the destination which the thrower parent has set--be it putting on pygamas, getting into bed, taking a bath, cleaning up of toys... So when a mother says to the child, "Okay, time for a bath; let's go", but the child does not prove responsive, a great co-parenting action, to sweep the child-weight along, is to say something to the effect "once you do, I'll read you a story." The key thing here is that the co-parent is not just reiterating what the first parent said, which again is not necessarily a bad thing and can certainly be useful at times, but is engaging in complementary parenting, not just matching or reiterating what the other parent said or did but extending it. Try it; you'll like it--and so, most importantly, will your partner and child!

The Co-Parenting Mine Field (in intact families)

Jay Belsky, Ph.D. — Thu, 19 Jun 2008 08:23:21 -0700

There was a time, way back when, when the rules and the roles of the parenting game were pretty straightforward. And they went something like this: Mothers managed children, for the most part, cuddling them, dressing and feeding them when young; taking them here and there for activities when they were older; assisting with homework and so much more. They also did-and still do--most of the planning involved in child care, be that selecting a preschool or day care center, making and keeping a doctor's appointment, or handling what are today called "playdates." For the most part, dads sat back, perhaps playing the silent type, but--and this is the critical part--stepping in and PUTTING THEIR FOOT DOWN when they judged that to be what was needed. Routinely, mothers went along, no matter what they felt about dad's parenting skills-or lack thereof.

Many parents today fail to appreciate that there was one great benefit to this sexist division of parenting labor: Parenting did not need to be negotiated between mother and father and so a huge arena of potential conflict in the marital relationship simply didn't generate all that much disagreement. For the most part, things went mom's way, but when dad said something, his views typically prevailed. But boy how things have changed over the past 30 years.

This will probably sound sexist, but I am going to risk it anyway: My observations of many families across these years teaches me that even though many a modern woman says that what she wants when it comes to parenting by her husband/boyfriend is a "full partner" who will share much, perhaps even 50%, of the work of parenting, what she actually desires is a "helper". What is the difference? Well from the mother's perspective, a partner doesn't "babysit" when mother is not there or just assist her, but assumes real responsibilities, even burdens of parenting, including thinking about the kids when they are not around, planning for what they will need and, of course, doing much of the more obvious work of parenting. But from the perspective of a father, a helper is someone who does many of these things--or perhaps not all that many--in the way that mom wants them done, because if and when he doesn't, she lets him know it!

"You can't put that top on the baby", I recall hearing one mother exclaim during an observation I was doing in the home of one family after instructing them "to go about their everyday household routine, imagining that I am not even here." "Why not?" asked the father? The mother replied, in an exasperated tone, "because he wore it yesterday!" It didn't surprise me that the dad didn't "get it". After all, the child in question was 10 months old--and the father in question had just finished undressing, wiping, bathing and re-dressing the baby, most certainly enabling mother to get on with other things she would not be able to in the many other homes where dads still don't assume responsibility for these types of daily tasks.

Then there was the case of the father who liked to take his toddler into the shower with him--and we are not talking sexual abuse concerns here, please--but the mother objected. I actually found the idea interesting, having never tried it myself at home, only at the beach. And for those who want to contend that this practice is simply unsafe, let me point out that my soapy 12-month old once slipped in the tub and out of my soapy hands while being bathed in the traditional manner, resulting in a rush to the hospital to stitch up his split chin.

Now I don't mean to imply that there are no times or places when one parent really should, even must, step in to alter their partner's parenting, but my guess is that once you eliminate truly nasty, hostile and/or demeaning parenting, there are probably few occasions when this is really called for.

The bottom line is that ever since parental roles began to be re-organized, and certainly mostly if not entirely for the better, in modern western society, co-parenting, as the phenomenon under discussion is formally known, has turned into a mine field. And how parents navigate this landscape matters, not just to their intimate relationship with each other, but to their children's well being. As any family therapist will tell you, being caught in the middle is not in the child's best interest. And being the reason, or even just part of the reason, why mom is chastising dad in some manner, shape or form (or vice versa, as that also happens for sure), is one way in which children these days often find themselves in the middle.

So here is a belated father's day recommendation from me, though it would be timely on mother's day-or any day-for that matter: Before you think poorly about how your spouse is handling your child and especially before you express your reservations, seeking to change what he or she is doing, ask yourself whether they are the reservations of someone who wants a partner or a helper!
--------------------------

For a subsequent blog on "Coparenting WELL" and another on "Coparenting POORLY" see:

http://blogs.psychologytoday.com/blog/a-family-affair/200806/co-parentin...

http://blogs.psychologytoday.com/blog/a-family-affair/200807/co-parentin...

For some relevant research and writing on the subject of co-parenting in intact families, see:

http://www.familyrapp.com/Results/archive_results_details.asp?ArticleID=...
http://edis.ifas.ufl.edu/pdffiles/FY/FY100000.pdf
http://lib.bioinfo.pl/pmid:18410212
http://journals.cambridge.org/action/displayAbstract;jsessionid=2E279916...

The SECRET Life of the DIFFICULT Infant

Jay Belsky, Ph.D. — Mon, 09 Jun 2008 07:11:01 -0700

If you have ever had a "difficult" baby, you certainly would know it. Let me add, though, that I know there are some parents who think they have such a child, but in my book actually do not. I say this because on more than one occasion I have had parents share with me how challenging their baby was to care for, yet when I was in their home, sometimes for hours, all I ever heard was what would qualify as whimpering, certainly not howling, to say nothing of the fact that the child seemed eminently consolable when some care and attention was provided. At these times I have been somewhat astonished, because if you REALLY have a difficult baby, you know the difference between what the parents in question are talking about and what a real difficult infant is like. Indeed, nothing brings this point home so much as when someone who, the first time around, thought they had a difficult baby actually encounters one upon the arrival and rearing of a second child.

Difficult babies are difficult because they cry a lot, cry loudly, are hard to soothe, have trouble falling asleep and remaining asleep, as well as problems going back to sleep once they awaken (in the middle of the night!); they often have problems waking up, too, transitioning to a state of alertness from one of sleepiness. But despite the difficulty the infant obviously has managing or regulating, even with the care and support of others, her very young psychological, behavioral and physiological systems, the terminology of "difficult" was not coined to capture the baby's experience. Rather, it was created to reflect what the parent of such a child deals with day in and day out, night in and night out and so on and so forth, sometime seemingly interminably. And I know what I am talking about here because my first son, now 28, was an indisputably card-carrying member of the difficult-baby club. Thankfully, the same was not true of son #2.

I always say two things about having a difficult baby given my extended encounter with this kind of child. First, despite how impossible he was, I was glad that we got him rather than someone else. This was because my (then) wife and I knew something about children and were really committed to being parents. So I regarded it as somewhat of a blessing for all involved that whoever decides these things passed this one on to us rather than to someone who knew less about children to begin with or who, for whatever reason, might have proven to be less devoted parents.

The second thing I always say about having a difficult baby, especially as a developmental psychologist who knows a good deal about the causes and consequences of child maltreatment, is that I am surprised there is not more child abuse! And this is because son #1 on more than one occasion made me FEEL like throwing him across the room or out the door, hitting him, slapping him, doing something--ANYTHING!--to make him STOP what he was doing and CHANGE! Fortunately, I was able to manage these feelings (and reflect upon them) so that they never directly manifested themselves in my handling of him. But I certainly understood how someone in a much less advantaged position than myself could, in the face of these feelings of frustration and helplessness, act on them. This, by the way, is not meant to excuse child abuse or even accept it, but just explain how something that at times seems so unfathomable can occur.

THE SECRET

But my point in this blog is not to share with you my own childrearing experiences. Indeed, nothing that I say from here on is even informed by my personal life, as it derives directly from research I and others have carried out (on children who are not our own). What I want to share is what can be regarded, I think, as the unappreciated and perhaps only recently recognized SECRET of difficult infants whose defining characteristic is frequent and intense and even long lasting bouts of negative emotionality--crying, whining, flailing and the like.

So what is the secret? It is that, however difficult these little ones can be, however predisposed they seem to be toward being negatively emotional as infants, toddlers and even perhaps young children, they also seem to be the children who are most influenced by the nature and quality of parenting-or child care-they experience. That is, these children are extraordinarily malleable or plastic, being affected--for better AND for worse--by the care they encounter while growing up. Thus, they thrive and do wonderfully when cared for well, but also are the children most troubled when the care they receive is poor, meaning insensitive, harsh, unresponsive, neglectful and/or inconsistent. Other children with less difficult, challenging or negatively-emotional temperaments seem much less affected by many of the developmental experiences--in and out of the family--that most of us presume ahpe the well being of all children. The less malleable appear to be born a certain way and more or less stay that way, almost irrespective of what happens to them.

SOME EVIDENCE

Evidence to support the claims I have just made seems to be growing day by day (see http://www.blackwell-synergy.com/doi/full/10.1111/j.1467-8721.2007.00525...). One recent study shows that when infants who proved difficult and highly negative across their first six months of life are cared for in a warm, sensitively responsive manner by their mothers during their opening years of life, they show the least behavior problems and greatest social skill of all children as first graders. Just the opposite happens, though, with children with similar temperamental proclivities who experience insensitive care; they manifest the most problems and least social competence early in their school careers. But just as interesting and important is the fact that these noteworthy effects of mothering are far less pronounced, if evident at all, in the case of children who as infants are much less difficult (http://www.blackwell-synergy.com/doi/full/10.1111/j.1469-7610.2007.01829...).

More evidence documenting the heightened susceptibility of negatively-emotional infants and toddlers to the rearing they experience comes from research on fathering and how it affects what looks like honesty and dishonesty at a very young age. In this work which investigated whether 38-month olds followed the rules of a simple game when they thought no one was watching, it was found that harsh, power-assertive discipline experienced at age 15 months predicted cheating in a game two years later, whereas more sensitive and supportive approaches to discipline fostered the most rule-governed behavior. Of critical importance, though, is the fact this apparent influence of fathering on child development held only for children who manifested high levels of fear and thus negative emotion at age 15 months; children who showed little fear at this young age were virtually unaffected by the quality of fathering they received (http://psycnet.apa.org/index.cfm?fa=buy.optionToBuy&id=2006-23020-018).

CONCLUSION

For a long time, difficult babies have gotten a bad rap. And one reason for this is because when children start showing up in clinics at age 3, 4, 5 or 6, with parents complaining that the child is out of control, one of the first questions asked is "how long has the child been like this?" And, almost without exception, the answer is, "ever since he was born!" So, from this perspective of "looking back" to see where a child's present difficulties--at age 3, 4, 5 or 6--come from, it is easy to see why many conclude that problems controlling emotions and behavior at this still young age are inborn and a result of genetics.

But guess who never shows up at the clinic and who are thus never considered when it comes time to draw these "looking back" conclusions about the origins or causes of many emotional and behavioral disturbances in development? The many other so-called difficult babies! That is, the ones who, because of skilled parenting and/or high-quality child care or some other environmental source of support, have developed the capacity to regulate and manage their emotions and, thereby, control their behavior and thus develop the many competencies they now possess. Recall, in this regard, the previously mentioned first graders who started life with difficult temperaments, encountered warm, sensitive, responsive mothering and grew up to be the least troubled and most socially competent children.

This kind of development does not take place overnight, but for those who struggle--and a struggle it is--with the challenge of coping with a highly negative infant, the payoff can be substantial. Doing one's best to manage one's own temper, frustration and exhaustion, so as to provide care that is loving, responsive, warm and, when the time comes during the toddler and preschool years, demanding, consistent and firm, without being hostile or rejecting, often yields a child who is the farthest thing possible from the difficult baby who ends up in the child or family therapist's office.

Nature AND Nurture AND Parenting

Jay Belsky, Ph.D. — Fri, 16 May 2008 06:59:44 -0700

Let me begin this blog on the classic issue of nature and nurture--and the proposal that children vary in how much they are affected by the parenting they experience in the family--with a quick and, hopefully, relevant observation about financial investing.

What is perhaps the first piece of investment advice that any financial counsellor gives--or should give--to a would-be investor? Diversify your investments! In other words, don't put all your eggs in one basket, should you be lucky enough to have more than one egg. In fact, should you have several, put some in stocks, which can be risky, as the value of stocks can go down as well as up; some in bonds or the equivalent which are (typically) less risky, but also tend to provide less upside potential than stocks; some in the bank where you know exactly what you are going to get even if it is typically modest, as it most certainly is today in the USA (but not in the UK where I live); and perhaps even some under the mattress, because even banks can go under (as one more or less did recently on this side of the pond).

It is this investment principle of diversification that is central to my evolutionary-informed view that children vary in their susceptibility to parental rearing, as well as to other environmental influences. We all have heard about and even debated Nature--we are born a certain way and that is why we are as we are--and Nurture--we were raised a certain way and that is why we are the way we are. Most now appreciate that simplistic nativist-environmentalist debates about what matters more in the case of human development and behavior, genes or environment, are outdated. Indeed, most credible scientists appreciate that either-or thinking is not a particularly productive way to frame the issue. After all, there can be no nature without nurture. Even genetically determined psychopaths, should they exist, and I suspect some do, need to be fed and clothed to get to the point where they can exact their toll on their victims. And even the child prodigy whose piano playing is of the calibre of a maestro for mostly genetic reasons could not achieve such were she or he never exposed to music!

Exactly how nature and nurture work together--or not--remains a fascinating topic, one that I will no doubt return to repeatedly in this blog. For today, though, I want to assert that some of us, or at least some aspects of some of us, are principally a function of nature; and for others of us, or at least some aspects of others of us, are principally a function of nurture. Take two children who are highly aggressive, for example. One may well be that way because he was "born" that way, whereas the other was, more or less, "made" that way. The same probably goes for children high in verbal ability or those with limited social skills. Indeed, I have come to the conclusion that no matter what aspect of development or behavior may especially interest us, some children will function as they do with respect to it principally as a result of their nature and some will function as they do primarily because of how they were reared; and this will be so even if their level of functioning--high, moderate or low--is exactly the same. Moreover, this will be especially the case within families; that is, whereas one child will likely be the way he or she is primarily because of his or her genetic make up, a sibling will be the way she or he is principally because of the family rearing environment.

Why should this be the case? My answer is informed by evolutionary theory and based on a fundamental truism about the world we inhabit: The future is uncertain. As a result, no parent in human ancestral history could know for certain what would be best for his/her child and children, with best defined in reproductive terms, the passing of genes on to future generations--the currency of the realm in the case of all living things. Would it be best to be highly cooperative, highly self centered, hard working, lackadaisical...? Now, like many of us today, ancestral parents probably believed, whether consciously or unconsciously, that they knew the best way to parent and for their children to develop if their progeny were to prove economically, socially and, ultimately, reproductively successful in adulthood. But just like parents today, they could have been proven wrong--and certainly some were. The best and most dramatic proof I know of this comes from recent human history--the killing fields of Cambodia.

Who were among the first whom the Khmer Rouge murdered when they came to power around the time the US was being driven out of Vietnam? It was people just like me and perhaps you, ones who had no calluses on their hands or who wore glasses or who were otherwise judged to be educated--because educated people were considered serious threats to this murderous regime. Now what Cambodian parent ever imagined that a time might arise when being educated would prove a death sentence? So what Cambodian parent ever considered the possibility that by encouraging their child to work hard at school--to be able to get a job using your mind rather than having to do back breaking labor in the field--they would be consigning their coffspring to an early death? Surely none. The fundamental reason that life--and death--proved so surprising was because, tragically in this case, the future proved uncertain: Education, or even just the appearance of being educated, generated anything but greater opportunities in life when the Khmer Rouge came to power in Cambodia.

Given that natural selection is all about how history and environmental pressures shape living things over long stretches of time and generations to be successful in dispersing their genes across future generations, it stands to reason, I believe, that the uncertainty of the future has shaped human behavior, including parenting and child development. To insure that not all eggs--read children--end up in the same basket--read follow parental leads--parents bear children who vary in the degree to which they are influenced by family experience. Simply put, some will prove highly responsive to the parenting they experience, having their development shaped by it, but others will not--or at least some will be more influenced and others less affected.

By following this strategy of diversification--which is not consciously chosen by any means--parents end up taking out insurance of a kind, thanks to the wisdom of evolution, against the uncertainty of the future. If the direction that parents or others encourage children to develop proves, eventually, to be misguided--as in the Cambodian case--then those who are not particularly susceptible to parental influence will be less likely to pay the cost of developing in a way that turned out to be counterproductive. By the same logic, if future circumstances proved parental guidance to be sound and perhaps even wise, then those children who were shaped by it would benefit by virtue of their malleable natures--just as I have from following my parents' entreaties. They encouraged all three of their sons to work hard in school--though only two of us really ever did--so that we would not have to stand on our feet all day to earn our livings, as they did while running a successful luncheonette business in midtown Manhattan for 30 years.

By not putting all their eggs in one basket--that is, by bearing children who vary in their malleability--parents end up diversifying their investments. "Plastic" children may prove to be a great bet when parenting proves influential and the future ends up being more or less in line with (conscious or unconscious) expectations; but children with less malleable, more "fixed" characters may end up being a better bet when the uncertain nature of the future proves parental guidance to have been misguided. In sum, human development and behavior are determined by both nature and nurture, but it turns out, I think, it is more nature for some of us and more nurture for others of us. This, of course, is not a typical resolution to the so-called nature-nurture controversy, but as I will show in future blogs, it may be very much on target.

When Hitler Is Your (Grand?)Father

Jay Belsky, Ph.D. — Tue, 13 May 2008 07:58:35 -0700

In London where I have worked for the past 9 years (after spending 21 years at Penn State University), the newspapers are (still) awash with stories about the monstrous Austrian man, Josef Fritzl, who imprisoned his daughter for more than two decades in a tiny, window-less and soundproof basement apartment, fathering seven children with her, while keeping three of them locked up for their entire lives. When discovered, two were almost 20 years of age; one was just 5. How horrific.

When I received a call from the BBC to comment on this matter in terms of how this experience of imprisonment would affect the children, I pointed out that it was rather difficult to be certain (see below). Within a few hours of selected excerpts of the interview appearing on a BBC news website (http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/europe/7370889.stm), I received the two most vitriolic emails I have ever encountered. Indeed, my oldest son told me that if these had been received by an American academic, university security services would want to be alerted!

What had I said to evoke such ire? Most importantly, I had pointed out that research evidence has repeatedly shown that children sometimes emerge from the most horrendous conditions seemingly unscathed--or certainly nowhere near as adversely affected as many, including the BBC journalist interviewing me--would assume would routinely be the case. Most notably, studies of children growing up in Romanian orphanages before the fall of the Iron Curtain who lived in circumstances that would enrage the ASPCA were animals found in such conditions have proven remarkably resilient--once adopted into reasonably functioning families. This is not to say that there was never any lasting damage, only that it has surprised many students of child development, myself included, that the legacy of this experience has not proven more devastating and pervasive.

Returning to the Austrian madman and his (grand?)children, I pointed out to the BBC journalist that IF the mother were able to maintain her own mental health, avoiding depression--admittedly a BIG IF--the young child in particular MIGHT prove to be in tolerably decent condition, as her emotional support, as well perhaps as the stimulation provided by older siblings, could have been enough to prevent severe psychological malnutrition. The same COULD perhaps pertain to the older siblings, I noted, though it would be difficult to imagine how teenage sons with their sexual desires could have coped with the circumstances; thus I was less optimistic about them, given their developmental status and much longer period of privation--of sunlight, of friends, of females other than their mother and, of course, of the world!

Even more importantly, I noted, there is ever increasing evidence that children vary in their susceptibility to developmental experiences, a theme that will no doubt recur in this blog. Like many fellow developmentalists, I have long made the mistake of more or less assuming that developing nourishing experiences benefit most children more or less equally, whereas developmental deprivation yields the opposite consequences, again more or less equally. But appreciation of an evolutionary perspective-which developed in my case some 15 years ago-along with evidence I have been assembling over the past decade have led me, in my middle age, to understand that it just doesn't make sense for all children to be equally susceptible to how they are parented, how other children treat them, to the quality of schooling they receive...and so on and so forth. Exactly why this should be the case will be the subject of my next blog.