(we hope), but the scientific findings we discuss apply to everybody. We all come from families, after all. Some are wonderful and supportive and kind, others cold and formal and detached, still others abusive and neglectful and downright cruel. But every one of them, for better or worse, made us who we are today. This book explains how they did so.
Raising a child is not like building a bookshelf; one cannot simply by a kit from IKEA, follow a few simple instructions, and end up with something identical to the picture on the package. Not every household is allocated the same tools, or even the same building materials. Every child fits together a different way, and what reinforces one child’s development may undermine the integrity of another. Quite unlike carpentry, child-rearing is messy, organic, and occasionally unpredictable. Thankfully, it’s also a lot more forgiving. One false cut or misread measurement won’t ruin the finished product.
Because of this, we cannot provide a set of easy-to-follow instructions. We have no grand comprehensive Parenting Strategy guaranteed to produce a perfect, even-tempered, kind, loving, intelligent, talented, chubby-cheeked child. What we can offer is a thorough and accessible explanation of the latest scientific findings on how children develop, why they behave in certain ways, and how this information can inform the way you parent.
In short, this book is not about the “what” of parenting — what lessons to teach your child, what demeanour to adopt when interacting them, what programs to enroll them in — but the “why” and “how.” Why do some children stop crying the instant their mothers pick them up while others seem inconsolable? Why do identical twins raised in the same environment grow into unique individuals with distinct personalities? How does neglect in infancy link to heart disease or addiction in adulthood?
Parenting is not something to fear. Our ancestors have been doing it for eons. If survival is our measure of success, then we have been very successful. But if success means something more, we need to consider how children succeed in today’s context. Parenting is an intricate and sublime process, a ballet of genetic and environmental influences, a kaleidoscope of factors converging into a single harmonious entity. In short, it is something worth learning about.
The anecdotes found throughout the book, we should note, are fictional.[1] They don’t represent the experiences of any one real person or family, but are cobbled together from 20 years of professional experience. Their purpose is to illustrate, through narrative, the theories this book discusses, to pin a human face to the numbers and definitions and conclusions of scientific studies. Sophie may not exist, but I (Nicole) can assure you that people like her do.
Lastly, while this book was written with the average reader in mind, it will occasionally deal with fairly complex scientific concepts. Our goal is to explain these ideas in an enlightening and accessible way so that you can really understand “why” parenting is so important. Readers interested in exploring epigenetics and gene-by-environment interaction in greater detail can avail themselves of our bibliography.
Section 1
Nature vs. Nurture?
“A child is born with the potential ability to learn Chinese or
Swahili, play a kazoo, climb a tree, make a strudel or a birdhouse,
take pleasure in finding the coordinates of a star. Genetic inheritance determines a child’s abilities and weaknesses.
But those who raise a child call forth from that matrix
the traits and talents they consider important.”
— Emilie Buchwald
Chapter 2
The Other Hundred Years’ War
Thomas emerges from behind the curtain. His young face is anxious but composed. The stage light gleams off the filigreed tuning keys of the classical guitar hanging from a strap across his shoulders. He shields his eyes from the spotlight and scans the crowd until his eyes settle on a familiar face. He heads toward the stage’s lone stool and sets his sheet music — two pages of Bach’s Jesu Joy of Man’s Desiring — on the metal stand perched nearby. He takes a seat. The audience applauds politely. Thomas smiles, offers them an appreciative wave, and begins to play. The fingers of his left hand jump effortlessly from fret to fret, string to string, moving with the grace and dexterity of practiced gymnasts. Notes flow from Thomas’s guitar in a melodious stream, filling the room from wall to wall with sumptuous harmonies.
Thomas’s mother watches from the front row, beaming. When the performance ends she applauds a little louder than the rest, though she’s careful to keep her exuberance in check; she promised Thomas that she wouldn’t embarrass him. As the boy bows and leaves the stage, a woman beside Thomas’s mother leans in to her.
“Was that your son?” the woman asks.
“Why yes, it was,” Thomas’s mother replies.
“He looks just like you. And he plays beautifully.”
Thomas’s mother blushes. “Thanks. He gets that from his father.”
The woman gives a knowing smile. “Good genes.”
Thomas’s mother nods. “It’s certainly not from my side. None of us can carry a tune.”
“It’s the same with my Amelia. They all have beautiful voices on her father’s side. She’s lucky she got that from him and not me.”
A hush settles over the crowd. From behind the curtain emerges a young girl in a pleated dress. Thomas’s mother notes the reaction of the woman she’d been speaking to — the alert posture, the wide, nervous eyes, the anticipatory lean forward — and figures the girl on stage must be Amelia.
Amelia holds no instrument. Her hands fidget, eager for something to do. She holds them together in front of her and steps toward the mike, her eyes nervously scanning the crowd. Her mother waves but Amelia doesn’t seem to notice.
There is a moment where Thomas’s mother thinks the poor girl is going to faint. Amelia sways slightly on her feet, her face wide and pale. But then her mouth opens and the audience lets out a collective gasp. From Amelia’s parted lips leap notes of startling operatic grandeur. Her voice is so rich and strong it seems to force the audience back several inches. They stare in awe of the enormous sound issuing from such a tiny, fragile-looking vessel. The melody soars, circling the audience like a majestic bird of prey. As her final note echoes off the back wall, the audience applauds, Amelia’s mother loudest of all. Amelia scurries offstage. Thomas’s mother gives Amelia’s mother an impressed look.
“Wow.”
Amelia’s mother shrugs, slightly embarrassed. “That’s all her father’s doing. It’s in his blood.”
The Fallacy of Nature vs. Nurture
Good genes. It’s in his blood. I get that from my mother. These easy, off-the-cuff statements mask a long and bitter history of feuding, contention, and one-upmanship. The 20th century has been subject to a long and heated debate over what force makes humans develop the way they do. This hundred years’ war has pitted scientist against scientist, causing our keenest minds to fortify themselves inside bunkers of rigid, absolutist doctrine. The combatants have varied over the years, but each has aligned himself with one of two camps: nature or nurture. Nature surmises that human traits are the result of our genome: 46 long and elaborate strands of deoxyribonucleic acid, each comprised of a double-helix pattern woven around histone proteins and shaped into a hyper-concentrated figure called a chromosome. Nurture, meanwhile, attests that our traits arise from exterior influences: the food we eat, the language we speak, the parenting style under which we are reared, and so forth.
Over the years, both nature and nurture have gained and lost prestige with the scientific community and the public. In the early days of the 20th century, a group of scientists called eugenicists made a convincing case for the supremacy of genes, surmising that a person’s physical stature, mental faculties, and even criminality were the product of his genetic makeup.[2] Humanity, they argued, stemmed from multiple bloodlines, and purifying our gene pools