Introduction
Are today's kids spoiled rotten or are selfish parents giving
them a rotten time? Choose your answer with your newspaper or talk show,
your politician or your cab driver. On my last transatlantic trip I rode
to Heathrow with a driver who told me: "Today's parents aren't fit
to have kids. They think about nothing but their pockets and pleasures
- out to work, off to the bar; poor kids aren't brought up: they have to
drag themselves up . . ." But it was the other story on the ride in
from Kennedy: "Kids today don't know when they're well off. When I
was a boy I worked for what I got and then It wasn't much, I'm telling
you. Now kids from decent homes where parents work to buy them everything
just think they're entitled to do as they like ... beating up teachers,
raping, robbing."
Today's parents ... Kids today ... When I was a boy ... Social debate always
relies on statements about past times and distant places to throw the present
into high relief, but most such statements should start with "Once
upon a time," as in "Once upon a time there was a golden age
of the family ... a proper balance between rights and responsibilities
... majority agreement on decent social values." Many people certainly
believe that things are worse than they have ever been, but many people
in each successive generation always do, and our generation is rendered
especially susceptible by mass communications.
A torrent of media messages reflects, and may also create, societies that
are fascinated by their boundless potential for horror and horrified by
themselves. Fiction and faction, commentary and news seem to compete to
make us think about the unthinkable, and to find new limits to challenge
us as our tolerance rises. Rape has become a subject everyone can discuss,
so now we must face male rape, mass rape and the rape of children. Everybody
has been forced to accept that many children are abused in "ordinary
families," but there is still shock value in child abuse by bishops
and priests, by satanists and porno rings and in the institutions we set
up to care for children who are "at risk." And if we are near
to having faced the limits of horror with children as victims, there is
still mileage in children as aggressors and more still if their
victims are children, too. Rape by a twelve-year-old is certain of headlines,
while the recent death of a British two-year-old allegedly at the hands
of two ten-year-olds received more coverage than all the 100-odd murders
of toddlers at the hands of adults in the same year put together. We are
being shown children and young people from every kind of background - yours
and mine as well as his and hers - not just failing in schools but terrorizing
them; not just flouting teachers but injuring them; not just getting into
mischief but joyriding, burglarizing, destroying, out of control.
These are real pictures of real happenings but they may nevertheless distort
reality as a zoom lens distorts a landscape - highlighting selected detail
and contrast and distracting us from a context that is less dramatic but
at least as deserving of our concern. It is that context of ordinary, everyday
lives and experiences that this book explores, through the widest possible
lens.
My lens has not always had such a wide angle. I spent most of ten years
in child development research and most of another ten passing on the findings
to parents and using them myself in bringing up our own two children. I
believed that "good parenting" - the kind that meets the needs
of both children and parents - was not something that could be authoritatively
generalized, but something that had to keep evolving out of the constantly
changing interaction between growing children and adults who felt sufficiently
supported and self-confident to respond to them. I believed that the more
people knew about children in general, the more fascinating they would
find their own child in particular - and I believed that while finding
a child fascinating is no substitute for loving her, it could be a most
useful support at 4 a.m. when there was not much love around.
I still believe all that, but the last ten years have forced me to widen
my focus. I know that most individual parents do everything they can to
facilitate the health and happiness, growth and development of their babies;
to deliver socialized and sociable children into society's formal education
system and to support them through it and out into adult life. But everything
parents can do is clearly not enough. Whatever the real scale and scope
of horrors perpetrated on or by children, there are not hundreds, not thousands,
but millions more who are being failed by Western society, and are failing
it. We leave parents the responsibility for children's well-being and happiness,
but do we also empower them to ensure it?
This book argues that our society is inimical to children and has therefore
devalued parents to such an extent that individual good parenting is not
only exceedingly difficult but, ultimately, insufficient. Dissemination
of information concerning child development remains valuable to individuals,
but parent education alone cannot create a better future for children,
nor parent bashing explain their grim present. When a company Is ailing,
the board often tries to blame the training, performance and wage demands
of its work force, but shareholders know that its success or failure depends
on adequate capital investment and good management. All of us are shareholders
in society's children and it is time we widened the focus of our attention
from what is happening at the bottom, in individual families, to what is
happening at the top in society as a whole.
Looking to the top means looking to policy-makers and opinion-makers
in government, civil service and social institutions, in the media and
the professions, in financial markets and in industry. That does not mean
looking to people other than parents and children, though. Top people
were all children first and most of them became parents later, but to meet
the demands of the job they were encouraged to leave all that at home with
their jeans and sneakers, and put on indifference with their business suits.
The charge of indifference to children will offend many of them, as will
the suggestion that Western children are having a lousy time. I regret
that offense because I am sure that on a personal level most people are
concerned for children, and that almost all those who are actively
parenting are doing their utmost to give their own children a good life.
But the offense has to be given and gotten through, because it is only
when we get to the far side of the personal that we can start to see what
may have gone wrong and rethink what might be right.
On a personal level, the birth of a healthy child is as much cause for
celebration in Western societies as it is all over the world, and for the
same reasons. Children's survival depends on adults, so the survival of
the human race depends, as it always has depended, on women and men wanting
and caring about them. We do not have children for their own sakes but
for ourselves. Parents of both sexes from many cultures sum up their reasons
for wanting them in words that best translate as "for pleasure and
for fun." Childbirth and health are not solely individual concerns,
though. The newborn baby, focusing the universal blue gaze that spans time
and place, culture and race, and is simply human, sees nothing of substance
beyond her mother's face. But her parents or parent figures will only be
the foreground of her life-style and chances. What parents do - and what
they can do - depends on what their society allows, approves or arranges.
Compared with other times and places, newborns and their parents in post-industrial
Western societies are fortunate. They are heirs to a legacy of scientific
attention to childbirth and related "women's matters" that goes
back to the nineteenth century and has given us an awesome and increasing
control over the production of babies. Parents can opt for quality rather
than quantity. We can prevent conception without limiting sexual activity
and assist it with a range of techniques from simple artificial insemination
to sophisticated in vitro fertilization. We can practice quality control
on the conceptus, using diagnostic techniques in utero and abortion
- or even corrective surgery - when fetal development does not meet our
norms. We can intervene to ensure women's survival through perilous labors
and employ intensive care and pediatric surgical techniques to save babies
who would not be viable in any other place or time. Safely born to women
whose physical and mental health has not been debilitated by early and
repeated childbearing or the fear of it, and to men who are not overburdened
with mouths to feed and bury, or the dread of being so, Western babies
get the world's best start.
A good start is only a start, though. Focused on the beginning of life,
Western societies see later needs far less clearly. The frontiers of medical
science and associated technology have been pushed forward without a matching
commitment to social science and human relations. We know much more about
the reproductive biology and genetics of parenthood than we know about
the social, emotional and psychological impacts of parenting and we devote
far greater research resources to producing physically healthy babies than
to rearing emotionally stable children. Indeed, while family planning,
artificial baby foods and a host of childcare aids have dramatically reduced
the burdens of traditional mothering roles, those roles themselves have
been invalidated and have not been replaced with a workable restructuring
of gender roles and relationships. What is needed now is something that
cannot be produced by further scientific advance or a new technical fix:
a reappraisal of the importance of parenting and fresh approaches to the
continuing care and education of children in, and for, changing societies.
We need to remind ourselves that human children require intensive, personalized
and long-lasting care. Babies have to be fed, warmed and protected, and
we are good at that, but if physical care is all they are given, many fall
to thrive and some die. Affectionate interaction with a few familiar people
is not merely enjoyable; it is a necessity for good health and development.
Yet we ration it. The ending of infancy alters the necessary commitment
of parents or their surrogates but does not end it. Children under seven
still need constant adult protection. In middle childhood, survival and
life skills, along with morals and manners, go on being learned over at
least five more years of close apprenticeship to adults. Even then, on
the edge of puberty, it takes people at least five further years of physical
growth and intellectual and social maturation to refine those skills so
that adolescents can begin to function as adults within the value system
of their particular culture. However much they may delegate to other caregivers
and to educational institutions, parents and parent figures are crucial
to every phase of this long human childhood, not least because it is individual
parents who most passionately want to meet the needs of their own children,
and passion is part of what is needed.
In these final years of the twentieth century, Western states are well
placed to help and facilitate parents through their governments and institutions
and through their opinion-makers and media, but they do so far less than
they could. We enjoy the greatest wealth and productivity and the most
advanced health care, broadly based education and widespread communications
the world has ever known. That means that we have room for choice and maneuver,
and it means we have information to guide us in using it, too. Accumulated
research evidence suggests that child-friendly choices would not only make
things better for today's children and their parents, but also for yesterday's
and tomorrow's, improving the least desirable aspects of modern Western
life for everybody. How long are we going to go on ignoring all that evidence
while moaning about "today's parents" and "kids today,"
yearning nostalgically for an undefined past time when every rainbow had
"family values" in its pot of gold?
If the powers-that-be are ever to recognize the need to make choices for
children, and face the results of their own failure to make those choices
to date, they will first have to relinquish the moral high ground of their
assumption that today's children "have never had it so good."
Of course children in post-industrial Western societies are better off,
in our terms, than the children who worked with their parents on the cotton
plantations and in the mills of nineteenth-century America and Britain,
or those who work in the sweatshops of contemporary cities in countries
that are industrializing now. Of course our children's world Is privileged
beyond the dreams of millions in the villages of developing nations. And
of course we can see our treatment of children as humane and respectful
if we compare it with the treatment of children swept around Eastern Europe
in an orgy of "ethnic cleansing" or shot as vermin in the streets
of Brazil. But hindsight, and value judgments that tell us life is better
for most children here and now than somewhere else or at another time,
are cop-outs. The moral imperative for any society, surely, is to do the
best it can in response to its own unique conditions; doing better than
other societies that are less well-placed is no good cause for complacency.
The comparisons that matter, and the ones that anger me, are between how
things are for our children and how they could be. When we make those comparisons
the moral high ground crumbles beneath us, because our society could do
so much better for children than it does.
Which modern Western trends are inimical to children?
How do they distort policy and practice in areas of known parental and
child need?
How, practically, could we do better?
Those are the three broad questions addressed in turn by the three parts of this book.
© Penelope Leach, 1994