Discussion

1.1 Organization of Children's Journeys: Exploring Early Childhood

You and I are grown up; we're not scared of things under the bed, are we? Unlike little children, we know there's nothing there. We can look all we want and nothing will eat us. You can't fool us just by projecting your voice. We recognize lies and we know that magic isn't real. Don't we?

Little children don't know these things. Part of growing up is learning them—learning what to expect, becoming familiar with what's out there, sorting fact from fancy, reality from wishes, tears from laughter.

Describing differences among infants and children, and explaining how these differences come about, is mostly what this text is about.

Children's Journeys is divided into three parts. Part One is a four-chapter introduction. Chapter 1 is, in a sense, about maps and guides. It explains what developmental psychology is and how psychologists study children. Chapter 2 introduces the mapmakers—those who developed the theories that guide our attempts to understand developmental change. Chapter 3 looks at the many paths the human journey makes possible: It deals with our genetic origins and with the influence of environmental context. Chapter 4 puts our subject, the developing child, on the road: It looks at systematic changes that occur from conception through birth and at important influences on the unborn child. Parts Two and Three look at physical, intellectual (cognitive), social, and emotional changes and processes during infancy1 (birth to age 2) and early childhood (ages 2 to 7 or 8).

1 Boldfaced terms are defined in the glossary at the end of the book.

Historical and Current Views of Childhood

Strange as it may seem to us, childhood as we generally understand it is not a universal phenomenon. What is universal is the fact that in all cultures infants are born at similar levels of biological immaturity. Also, patterns of biological maturation—such as learning to walk—are highly similar in all social groups.

But the experience of being a child can vary dramatically in different social contexts, as shown by studies in ethnography (studies of different cultures). For example, in the box Across Cultures: Mari: A Mayan Child: Liam, A North American Child, we see how Mari's life is unlike the lives of most children in the industrialized world. Much of the reason for this difference, explains Gaskins (1999), is that this Mayan society has different views of childhood. Among other things, these Mayans believe that adult work activities are so important that all childhood activities must be structured around them. Play is given little importance, and parents spend little time speaking with their children other than to admonish them or give them directions. This is in sharp contrast with the predominant North American view that emphasizes and caters to the child's wishes and interests, and that stresses the importance of play and of verbal and social interaction.

It is partly because the experience of childhood is not universal that our views of childhood, and the theories that we use to explain human growth and development, are often valid only for children from social groups similar to our own.

Snapshots of Childhood

Much of this text reflects North America's contemporary attitudes toward childhood—attitudes that are loving, nurturing, concerned. That she shares these attitudes is partly why Liam's mother so willingly abandons her chores to read to him or to play with him, and lets him determine when she will speak on the phone and when she will take him to the beach and to the zoo and perhaps even to Disneyland or the moon—or maybe just into the back yard. His journey through early childhood will be vastly different from Mari's.

It has not always been so. In fact, even today it isn't always and everywhere entirely so, as the following historical snapshots of children show.

We should note at the outset that historical snapshots are not always very accurate. For one thing, there are few records of what life might have been like before the "print cultures"— those societies that leave written records. When Ariès (1962) attempted to uncover what the lives of medieval European children were like, he was forced to put together fragments gathered from many sources such as historical paintings, school and university regulations, and people's diaries. Relying on records such as these might result in a biased view of what childhood was really like for medieval children.

Snapshot 1: Antiquity

Our view of childhood during antiquity—the historical period before the Middle Ages—is even less reliable than that relating to medieval times. Nevertheless, some writers have concluded that prior to the Middle Ages, and perhaps even into the seventeenth century, children were not really considered human beings. There are some who believe that infanticide—legally defined as the killing of infants soon after birth—might have been relatively common in antiquity (Harris, 1982; deMause, 1975). Others argue that the examination of the skeletal remains of infants who lived during that time suggests that this was not likely the case (Engels, 1980).

Snapshot 2: The Concept of Childhood in Medieval Europe

By the Middle Ages there had been some improvements in the treatment of children. But McFarland (1998) notes that these improvements required centuries, and, in retrospect, were sometimes not all that significant. In contrast, improvements in how the world currently treats its children can be measured in decades rather than in centuries.

That improvements in the treatment of children were not very dramatic is implicit in Ariès' account of medieval childhood. For example, he describes a mother who has just given birth to her fifth child and who is very depressed at the thought of having one more mouth to feed, one more body to clothe. A neighbor consoles her: "Before they are old enough to bother you," she says, "you will have lost half of them, or perhaps all of them" (1962, p. 38).

That the idea of childhood was still largely undeveloped is evident in the many ways in which children appeared to be viewed as nothing more than miniature adults. Thus they were seldom given toys designed especially for them. And they were quickly sent to work or given adult-like responsibilities. Perhaps, suggests Ariès, parents and society didn't see them as innocent and helpless creatures in need of nurturing and guidance.

Snapshot 3: Childhood in Eighteenth-Century Europe

Historical accounts of the lives of eighteenth-century European children are often shocking descriptions of abuse and cruelty—perhaps because, like today, the most flagrant and horrible abuses are the most sensational and the most likely to have been recorded.

For example, Siegel and White (1982) report the case of a 7-year-old British girl who stole a petticoat—which doesn't seem like that terrible a crime. Still, she was brought to trial, convicted, sentenced—and hanged!

Eighteenth-century European attitudes toward children were reflected not only in the ways children were treated by the courts, but also in the ways many were treated by their parents. Kessen (1965) reports that in the crowded and disease-riddled slums of eighteenth-century European cities, thousands of parents abandoned unwanted children in the streets or on the doorsteps of churches. Foundling homes—so-called because they looked after found children—sprang up all over Europe in an attempt to care for these children. But most of them died in infancy (before the age of 2 years). Kessen (1965) reports that of 10,272 infants admitted to one foundling home in Dublin in the last quarter of the eighteenth century, only 45 survived to the age of 5. In fact, before 1700, even if a child were not abandoned, the chances of surviving till the age of 5 were less than one in two. Most died of diseases, including the plague.

The high mortality rate of abandoned children was not restricted to eighteenth-century Europe but was characteristic of the other side of the Atlantic as well, even into the nineteenth century. It seems that with few exceptions, children in infant asylums in the United States before 1915 died before the age of 2 (Bakwin, 1949). This was mostly because many were sick before they were abandoned, or if not, they later succumbed to one of many serious contagious diseases such as scarlet fever, whooping cough, or diphtheria.

Snapshot 4: Child Labor in the Nineteenth Century

The nineteenth century brought some improvement in the status of children in Europe, and abandonments decreased drastically. Sadly, this appears to have been at least partly because of children's increasing economic value as workers. In thousands of factories and mines, children as young as 5 or 6 years, male and female, worked 10 hours a day or more at grueling labor in conditions so hazardous that many became ill and died (Kessen, 1965).

Conditions in North America were, in some instances, not very different from those that prevailed in parts of Europe. Clement (1997) reports that in cities and industrialized areas, many children were employed in factories and cotton mills. In rural farm families, female children were expected to sew and cook and clean even when they were only 4 or 5. Male children were expected to work around the barn and in the fields as soon as they were physically able.

Snapshot 5: The Developing World Today

The twentieth century, too, still has its share of ignorance, cruelty, needless pain, and suffering. More than 50 of the world's developing nations have under-5 mortality rates (U5MR) greater than 70 per 1,000 children born alive—a rate many times higher than is common in developed countries (Tracking progress in child survival, 2005). In Afghanistan, for example, about 257 of every 1,000 newborns die before age 5, a rate 32 times higher than in the United States and more than 60 times higher than in Japan or the Scandinavian countries (see Figure 1.1).

The United Nations reports that as recently as 1990, some 4,500 infants died each day from measles, tetanus, and whooping cough, and another 7,000 from diarrheal dehydration (Grant, 1992). Pneumonia added significantly to this total, and starvation more than doubled it. As a result, even in 1990 more than 30,000 children died each day from preventable causes. That was about 10 million preventable child deaths a year, almost 2 million of them from vaccine-preventable diseases.

Have conditions for the world's children improved very much in recent decades? In some ways, yes. Following massive worldwide efforts, coverage rates for immunization have increased dramatically. As a result, deaths from the six major diseases for which children are immunized (measles, tetanus, whooping cough, tuberculosis, polio and diphtheria) have been greatly reduced (Figure 1.2). Sadly, however, as many as one-third of the world's children are born in poverty, especially in areas such as Sub-Saharan Africa (Gordon, Nandy, Pantazis, Pemberton, & Townsend, 2003). Many of them have limited access to shelter, inadequate nourishment, scarce clean water, and little or no medical care.

Snapshot 6: The Industrialized World Today

The vast majority of children who are born into relative affluence are born to parents living in the world's industrialized countries. These children come into a world astonishingly rich in resources; they have access to a staggering wealth of information and entertainment.

Sadly, this doesn't mean that all is perfect with children of the industrialized world. For example, even in North America, immunization is not universal even though it is mandated for all children prior to starting school. Some parents are afraid of the possible adverse effects of immunization—which are very rare. Some believe it might cause autism—a supposition now largely discredited (Rudy, 2009). Others believe that it might damage the child's immune system, that it might cause diabetes, or that the diseases it is meant to prevent are no longer sufficiently common to be dangerous. Some even believe it doesn't work and that the scientific community is divided about the wisdom of immunization. Others object on religious, moral, or ethical grounds.

Although the possibility of adverse reactions to immunization cannot be completely discounted, the medical and scientific community unanimously believes in its effectiveness and its enormous health benefits (American Academy of Pediatrics, 2011). Yet many parents seek and obtain exemptions for their children—an act that not only exposes their children to unwarranted dangers, but also endangers other children, especially those who have compromised immune systems. As a result there are still outbreaks of preventable and sometimes fatal childhood illnesses in certain areas.

Even in industrialized countries, many children are shockingly poor. For example, in the United States, nearly 20% of all children live in families whose incomes are below the poverty level and about twice that number live in low-income families (National Center for Children in Poverty¸ 2011).

There have been dramatic social changes in recent decades. For example, the percentage of never-married 25- to 29-year-old women increased from 27 in 1986 to more than 46 in 2009 (Number, Timing, and Duration of Marriages and Divorces: 2009). Also, divorce rates increased enormously during the last century. At any given time, about 1 in 10 children in the United States lives in a one-parent family. In about 80% of these families, the mother is the single parent (America's families and living arrangements, 2010). Coupled with this, demographic (population) changes have resulted in smaller families, reduced birthrates, more childless couples, and greater proportions of young adults (resulting from previous increases in birthrates) and elderly people (resulting from medical advances).

Another important change, the effects of which are discussed in Chapter 8, is associated with the role of the media in people's lives, especially children's.

Some observers argue that the net effect of these changes is that recent decades are less child-centered than had been anticipated. Among other things, childhood in our industrialized times brings with it a high probability of being looked after by a series of strangers, most likely outside the child's home. It includes, as well, the probability of losing a father or a mother for much of the time of growing up—or at least of losing some of their interest and attention, and perhaps some of their affection as well. Childhood now brings the possibility of major adjustments if one or the other of the parents remarries, particularly if step-siblings are brought into the family.

There was a time, not very long ago, when the things that most children feared were highly predictable: pain, death, spinach, supernatural beings, and things that go bump in the night. Recent decades have added some new fears: concerns over whether or not parents will divorce; anxieties related to being left alone; worry associated with the likelihood of having to make new adjustments; and, too often, dread associated with wars.

But this paints too bleak a picture. The challenges and the changes of recent decades don't overwhelm all children and are not always a source of loneliness or despair. For many children, these are challenges and changes that result in strength rather than in weakness, in a sense of community rather than alienation, in joy rather than sadness.

Why Look at History?

These historical snapshots are important not so much for what they tell us about the lives of children (although that, too, is interesting and important in its own right), but because they emphasize the extent to which we are products of our particular social, cultural, and historical realities. In today's jargon, we are products of our contexts. So, to understand the lives of children, we need to know something of their contexts—that is, something of their families, their schools, the economic and political realities of their times, their place in history and in culture. It's a point that is repeated often in this text and emphasized in the "Across Cultures" inserts, which look at the lives of children whose contexts are not the average North American context.

In a sense, we are all a little like the children described in these inserts; none of us is the typical, average child of which this text speaks. Not only is each of us the product of an absolutely unique assortment of genetic material (unless we have an identical twin), but we are also products of experiences that are influenced more than a little by the social-cultural contexts of our lives.

Imagine how different your life might have been had you been born in medieval times.

1.2 Children's Rights

If you had been born in early medieval times, there is a chance that you might have been used as a plaything for the game of baby tossing—one of the sports by which the gentry amused themselves. Basically, baby tossing involved throwing infants from one gamesman to another. One unlucky baby-tossing victim was King Henry IV's infant brother, who was killed when he fell while being tossed from one window to another (deMause, 1974).

Throughout history, children have died not only in sport but for other causes, too. Had you been a parent in Massachusetts in 1646, you would not have had to put up with unruly offspring. Say you had a son who wouldn't listen to you, who was making your life miserable. All you would have had to do was drag him before a magistrate, establish that here was a defiant and rebellious kid, and, as long as he was 16 or more, they'd put him to death for you! That was the law (Westman, 1991).

By the twentieth century, the courts would no longer hang or shoot problem children; the once-absolute control that parents and various agencies had over the lives of children had been weakened considerably. Yet it was still possible for parents and teachers to get rid of the worst troublemakers. One way of doing this was to "voluntarily" commit them to mental institutions ("voluntarily" because parents and guardians simply "volunteered" them) (Farleger, 1977). Until recently, such children had no legal recourse, no matter how badly they felt they had been treated. Now, however, the courts have determined that children cannot be brought in for "treatment" without their "informed consent" (Informed consent, 2011).

In the twenty-first century, evidence of increasing concern with the rights of children is apparent not only in court decisions but also in two other important events: (1) the adoption of ethical principles to guide research concerning children; and (2) the formulation and widespread international acceptance of a code of children's rights. Now most industrialized countries have developed a variety of child protection systems that typically focus on improving the well-being of children and ensuring their optimal development (Gilbert, Parton, & Skivenes, 2011). (See In the Classroom: No Child Left Behind for an illustration of some of the implications of children's rights for teachers.)

Research with Children

The Society for Research in Child Development (SRCD) provides an important list of principles for research with children (SRCD Ethical standards for research with children, 2007). These principles recognize that research is unethical when procedures are stressful or potentially harmful, when a child is coerced into participating, when a child's privacy is invaded, and when unfair incentives or deception are used. The principles specify that permission of children and their parents must be obtained before conducting child research. Furthermore, consent must be "informed" in the sense that all are fully aware of any aspect of the research that might affect their willingness to participate.

A 1939 study of stuttering among children is often used as an illustration of unethical research. Sometimes called the Monster Study, it was conducted on 22 orphan children, some of whom had normal speech, but 10 of whom were identified as stutterers (Reynolds, 2003). Half of each group received "positive" speech therapy: Experimenters praised their verbal fluency and their pronunciation. The other half received "negative" therapy: They were ridiculed and belittled. Those who had been identified as stutterers were told their speech was even worse than other people thought. And those whose speech had been normal were told that the staff had concluded they had all the symptoms of a child who is beginning to stutter, that they would eventually wind up like so-and-so who was the worst stutterer in the orphanage. Sadly, these fictitious predictions and diagnoses apparently became true in some cases—a fact that has allegedly ruined some lives and led to a number of lawsuits.

United Nations Convention: Children's Rights

A United Nations convention on the rights of the child held in 1989 culminated in the formulation of an extensive charter of children's rights (Convention on the Rights of the Child, 2011).

The international charter of children's rights is based on the following four general principles:

The rights are to apply to all of the world's children equally, without discrimination or distinctions of any kind.

In all actions that involve children, their best interests shall be the most important consideration.

All the world's states shall do their utmost to ensure child survival and optimal development.

Children have the right to be heard.

Rights of Protection versus Rights of Choice

As Jones and Welch (2010) point out, children's rights as outlined by the United Nations Committee on Rights of the Child are geared toward (1) providing optimal, growth-fostering conditions for them; (2) protecting them from abuse and exploitation; and, (3) allowing them to participate in decisions that affect them. Note that the first two of these are essentially rights of protection whereas the third is a right of choice.

In many instances, as Runeson, Proczkowska-Bjorklund, and Idvall (2010) note, granting children rights of choice as though they were mini-adults is a misuse of the concept of children's rights. Young children lack the maturity and the knowledge required for making the best choices in their own lives. Six-year-old Elvira has the right to adequate nutrition, medical care, and education. But, understandably, she does not have the right to make all her own nutritional, educational, and medical choices. Many of those choices are her parents' responsibility. And even if her parents are unable to convince her that she should eat her broccoli because it's good for her, they can at least ensure that she doesn't eat only candy bars.

It's important to note that these United Nations "rights" of the child are principles and not enforceable laws. As a consequence, there are uncounted violations of children "rights" throughout the world—and at home, too.

1.3 Developmental Psychology

Psychology is the science that studies human behavior and mental processes. Developmental psychology is the division of psychology concerned specifically with the journey through the lifespan, beginning with conception and prenatal development, and ending with death. It looks at changes that occur over time and at the processes and influences that account for these changes. Development itself includes all the processes and changes whereby individuals adapt to their environment. Because adaptation involves growing, maturing, and learning, these processes are important concepts in the study of development.

Growth refers to physical changes such as increasing height and weight. Note that these are mainly quantitative changes: they involve increments (additions) rather than transformations. Maturation describes changes that are more closely related to biology and heredity than to a child's environment. Sexual unfolding during pubescence is an example of maturation.

Learning refers to changes that occur as a result of environmental influences. Learning is defined as all relatively permanent changes that result from experience rather than simply from maturation, growth, or the temporary effects of factors such as drugs or fatigue.

Note that in almost all aspects of human development, maturation, growth, and learning interact to make adaptation possible. This is especially evident in early childhood. For example, learning to walk requires not only that the child's physical strength and muscular coordination be sufficiently advanced (growth and maturation) but also that there be an opportunity to practice the different skills involved (learning).

Developmental psychology undertakes two important tasks: observing children and their progress in adapting to the world, and trying to explain that adaptation. (See Concept Summary: Important Definitions in Child Development.)

Early Explorers of Child Development

The study of children is a relatively recent enterprise, closely tied to social changes that occurred in seventeenth- and eighteenth-century attitudes toward children and to intellectual movements reflected in the writings of philosophers and early scientists. In addition, advances in biology and medicine and the increasing availability of elementary education contributed significantly to the development of child psychology.

Closely associated with the beginnings of the study of children were people such as the British philosopher John Locke and the French philosopher Jean-Jacques Rousseau.

John Locke

The child is basically a rational creature, Locke informed his late seventeenth-century colleagues. Children have nothing in their minds when they are born: Their minds are like blank slates—the tablets on which ancient philosophers wrote before there were chalkboards and smartboards. This belief is known as the doctrine of the tabula rasa. It holds that at first there is nothing in the infant's mind. But experience changes that, said Locke, because children quickly absorb the knowledge and habits that are given to them. Furthermore, he explained, children are highly responsive to rewards and punishments and must be carefully and firmly disciplined.

In the highly puritanical age in which Locke lived, discipline and self-control were considered absolutely fundamental to successful child rearing. And discipline tended to be harsh and unforgiving. In Locke's (1699) words, "If you take away the Rod on one hand, and these little Encouragements which they are taken with, on the other, How then (will you say) shall Children be govern'd? Remove Hope and Fear, and there is an end of all Discipline" (p. 33).

Jean-Jacques Rousseau

Rousseau's child, described in his book Émile (first published in 1762), is not at all like Locke's child. This is not a child who is a "blank slate," neither good nor bad until the rewards and punishments of experience exert their influence. The child is "naturally good" (a "noble savage"), Rousseau insists: If children were allowed to develop in their own fashion, untainted by the corruption and evil in the world, they would undoubtedly be good when grown: "God makes all things good; man meddles with them and they become evil" (Rousseau, 2004/1762, p. 3).

Although both Locke and Rousseau are closely associated with the beginning of the study of children, their ideas led to very different conceptions of childhood. Locke's description of the child as a passive creature molded by the rewards and punishments of experience parallels B. F. Skinner's theory (Chapter 2). Rousseau's view of an active, exploring child developing through deliberate interaction with the environment is reflected in the work of Jean Piaget (also Chapter 2).

Later Explorers

Although the science of child psychology owes much to early "child philosophers" such as Rousseau and Locke, its beginnings are usually attributed to the first systematic observations and written accounts of children, undertaken by people such as G. Stanley Hall, Jean Piaget, and John Broadus Watson.

G. Stanley Hall

The American, G. Stanley Hall (1891), who became the first president of the American Psychological Association, was profoundly influenced by Charles Darwin's theory of evolution. "Ontogeny recapitulates phylogeny," Hall insisted, borrowing a phrase popularized by German scientists such as Haeckel (Richards, 2008). This one short phrase summarizes Hall's conviction that the development of each individual in a species (ontogeny) parallels the evolution of the entire species (phylogeny).

As evidence for this theory, Hall described the evolution of children's interest in games, noting how these seem to correspond to the evolution of human occupations and lifestyles. Notice, said Hall, how a child becomes progressively interested in games corresponding to each of the major periods in human evolution: an arboreal existence (for example, climbing on chairs and tables); a cave-dwelling existence (crawling into small spaces, making tiny shelters with old blankets); a pastoral existence (playing with animals); an agricultural existence (tending flowers and plants); and finally an industrial existence (playing with vehicles).

One of Hall's most important contributions to the study of children was his pioneering use of questionnaires, lists of questions designed to uncover the thoughts, the emotions, and the behaviors of children. He often presented his questionnaires to adults, asking them to remember what they had felt and thought as children. Always, he tabulated, summed, averaged, and compared the results of his questionnaires, a true pioneer of the application of scientific procedures and principles to the study of human development. Also, Hall wrote extensively for the lay public, and was highly regarded as one of the important "popularizers" of psychology and purveyors of child-rearing advice (Brooks-Gunn & Duncan Johnson, 2006).

Jean Piaget

Like G. Stanley Hall, the Swiss psychologist Jean Piaget was heavily influenced by Charles Darwin. Piaget's early training was in biology, a field in which he received a PhD at the age of 22. Uncertain about what to do next, he spent a year wandering around Europe, working at a psychoanalytic clinic and in a pair of psychological laboratories, one of which was under the direction of Théodore Simon, the originator of the famous Stanford Binet intelligence test. While working with Simon, Piaget became fascinated by children's responses to test questions, and especially by their incorrect answers. This marked the beginning of his very long and enormously productive career as an investigator of the development of children's minds.

Children, Piaget explains, are born with a small repertoire of reflexive behaviors and corresponding mental underpinnings. As a result of interacting with the world, exercising these behaviors (assimilating, in Piaget's terminology) and modifying them (accommodating), the brain structures that underlie them change. These changes are reflected in a series of stages that describe the systematic development of the child's capabilities. At each stage, the child's ability to reason and understand becomes progressively more logical, culminating in the intellectual power of the adult. Piaget's model of the child's cognitive development became one of the most highly researched and applied descriptions of child development in the twentieth century.

John B. Watson

A well-known American pioneer of child psychology was John B. Watson (1914), who introduced an experimental, learning-based approach to the study of development. His influence, as well as that of Skinner, shaped a model that came to dominate child study through the early part of the twentieth century. This model looked for the causes of developmental change among the rewards and punishments of the environment and viewed the child as the passive recipient of these influences, much as had Locke.

The theories of Watson and Piaget, along with other important contributors to the study of children, such as Sigmund Freud, Erik Erikson, Burrhus F. Skinner, John Bowlby, Lev Vygotsky, Urie Bronfenbrenner, and Albert Bandura, are discussed in Chapter 2. (See Concept Summary: Pioneers in the Study of Children.)

Why Study the Development of Children?

In this child-centered age, we study children for various reasons, not least because we want to understand how we become what we are. Our study of child development is intended to provide us with information about (1) the sorts of behaviors we might expect from children at different ages, (2) the optimal experiences for children at different developmental levels, and (3) the nature of developmental problems and the best treatments for them.

As a result, the study of children provides a wealth of information that is of tremendous practical importance for teachers, nurses, counselors, physicians, child welfare professionals, clergy, and parents. With greater understanding, we become better parents, better teachers, better clinicians—and the children in our care have a better chance of becoming happy, productive, healthy individuals.

Recurring Issues and Beliefs

A number of important questions have served as recurring themes in developmental psychology. The issues that underlie these questions have guided much of its research and theorizing, and are reflected in its most important beliefs.

Is it best to view the child as an active, exploring organism, discovering or inventing meaning for the world, as Rousseau argued? Or is it more useful to emphasize, as did Locke, the effects of rewards and punishments on a more passive child? Today, the predominant view is of an active, exploring child deliberately attempting to create meaning out of the world (Rousseau's view, reflected in Piaget's theory). At the same time, most psychologists recognize the importance of reward and punishment (Locke's view, reflected in learning-based approaches such as Skinner's).

What are the relative effects of genetics and environments on the developmental process?

This question has been the source of one of the main controversies in psychology: the nature-nurture controversy. Extreme points of view on this issue maintain either that the environment is mainly responsible for whatever children become (nurture) or that genetic background (nature) determines the end result of the developmental process. The dominant position today is that nature and nurture aren't forces that act in opposition; rather, their interaction determines developmental outcomes.

Is development a continuous, relatively uninterrupted process, or does it consist of separate stages?

As is true for most of the recurring questions in human development, there is no simple answer. Stages in developmental psychology are a distinct sequence of age-based steps in the development of understanding or competencies. Many important developmental theories are stage theories (for example, those of Piaget or Freud). But it has been difficult to identify abilities or competencies that invariably appear at a predetermined age and develop in a fixed, predictable sequence. We don't develop like caterpillars—cocoon to butterfly to egg to caterpillar to cocoon to butterfly, each stage undeniably different from the one that precedes or follows it. Many of our characteristics appear to be subject more to continuous development than to stages. Nevertheless, stage theories are useful in organizing the facts of human development and in helping us understand and talk about them.

None of these issues has been completely resolved. Perhaps they cannot be, and perhaps history will show that they weren't very important in any case. What is important is to keep in mind that what we think and say about children—the questions we ask and sometimes the answers we are prepared to accept—are strongly influenced by our assumptions and beliefs.

1.4 Methods of Studying Children

In all scientific fields, there is basic research and applied research. Basic research, also called pure research, is driven by curiosity and is designed to expand our fundamental knowledge. Its goal is not to invent or produce something. In early childhood research, for example, basic research might try to answer questions such as: What happens in children's brains when they look at colors? What can the child hear at birth?

In contrast, applied research is motivated by a desire to solve practical problems. Applied research in early childhood development might be designed to find ways of teaching language skills to children with autism, or of improving social relations among kindergarten children.

Research in early childhood is both basic and applied: Some of it is designed to expand our knowledge, and some is aimed at very practical questions. But doing research with children is not always an easy undertaking.

As we shall see in Chapter 5, most of us are victims of a curious phenomenon labeled infantile amnesia: We remember virtually nothing—at least consciously—of our infancies or even of our early preschool days. So powerful and general is infantile amnesia that Newcombe and Fox (1994) found that 9- and 10-year old children were generally completely incapable of recognizing photos of their preschool classmates. Yet, years later, most adults can identify photos of over 90% of their elementary school classmates.

As a result of our infantile amnesia, when we try to make sense of the mind and emotions of infants, we can't rely on our memory of what it was like to be an infant. Nor can preverbal infants speak of their own thoughts and feelings. Hence, much of what we know of the private lives of young children is based on inferences we make. However, these are scientific inferences: They are based on careful, controlled, and replicable observations.

Observation

Observation is the basis of all science; so the study of children always begins with observation. Child development researchers use two types of observation: naturalistic and nonnaturalistic.

Naturalistic Observation

Naturalistic observation occurs when children are observed without interference in natural (rather than contrived) situations—for example, at home or on the playground or in school. Psychologists who observe children and write diary descriptions of their behavior (sequential descriptions of behavior at predetermined intervals) are using naturalistic observation. Similarly, psychologists might describe continuous sequences of behavior (specimen descriptions), behaviors observed during specified time intervals (time sampling), or specific behaviors only (event sampling).

The methods of naturalistic observation may be used in combination. For example, time and event sampling are often used together. Time sampling specifies when observations will be made; event sampling specifies what behavior will be observed. For example, in a study of preschoolers' playground behavior, an investigator might use a checklist to record instances of specific behaviors such as laughing, yelling, fighting, or cooperating (event sampling), and observe each child for five-minute periods at two-hour intervals (time sampling).

Nonnaturalistic Observation

Nonnaturalistic observation involves methods and situations designed to have an effect on children's behavior—in contrast with naturalistic observation, where children are observed in natural settings and the investigation is designed not to affect ongoing behavior. Nonnaturalistic observations are sometimes termed clinical if they involve the use of interviews or questionnaires. When investigators attempt to manipulate or change a child's environment, the resulting studies are experimental. Experiments are described later in this chapter.

Correlational Studies

Many studies in child development try to discover whether there is a relationship between two variables (characteristics that can vary). Does parental divorce affect first-graders' school performance? Are attractive children better liked by teachers?

Studies designed to answer questions such as these typically result in a measure of correlation—a mathematical indication of relationship. Say, for example, you look at the relationship between physical child abuse and later criminality, and you find, as did Currie and Tekin (2006), that about twice as many abused children—compared with those who aren't abused—are later charged with criminal offenses. This would be an example of a positive correlation: As incidence of physical abuse increases, incidence of criminal behavior also increases.

Similarly, if two variables decrease jointly, that too is a positive correlation. For example, a Swedish study indicates that programs that are effective in decreasing alcohol consumption also have the effect of decreasing instances of violence toward officials (Mansdotter, Rydberg, Wallin, Lindholm, & Andreasson, 2007). Hence there is a positive correlation between declining alcohol consumption and declining violence.

Now suppose you look at the relationship between social phobia (an intense fear of social situations and interactions) and parenting styles, and you find, as did Bitaraf, Shaeeri, and Javadi (2010), that authoritative (as opposed to authoritarian) parenting is closely associated with social phobia. This would be an example of a negative correlation: The more authoritative the parenting, the lower children's scores on measures of social phobia (Figure 1.4). (The effects of parenting styles are discussed in Chapter 8.)

Many correlational studies in developmental psychology are retrospective studies. They are retrospective because they try to identify relationships by looking back at a child's history (retro means backward) to see how factors in the past are related to present behavior.

What Does Correlation Mean? The Correlation Fallacy

The Currie and Tekin (2006) study found a high positive correlation between child abuse and criminal charges in adulthood. Is this evidence that abuse causes criminal behavior?

The simple answer is no, there is no proof of causation here: To conclude that there is illustrates the correlation fallacy. A high correlation between two variables never tells us what causes what. Nor does it exclude the possibility that an unexpected, confounding variable—termed a third variable—might be involved. In this study, for example, one possible third variable might be that the personality characteristics of children who later engage in criminal acts contribute to parents abusing them. It is also possible that the personality characteristics of abusive parents, rather than the abuse itself, is a more direct cause of criminality—as might also be the economic and social conditions of the abusive home. Each of these is a possible, confounding, third variable.

As an example of the occasional absurdity of determining causation solely on the basis of correlation, consider that there is a clear, positive correlation between the number of teeth young children have at any given time and their language sophistication. That, of course, does not prove that having many teeth helps youngsters speak and understand languages—nor that increasing language skills leads to the growth of new teeth! Instead, other third variables related to learning and maturation account for this correlation.

Even though correlational studies cannot establish that one thing causes another, the presence of a correlation is a necessary condition for inferring causality—necessary but insufficient. If child abuse does lead to criminality, there will be a positive correlation between measures of the two. So, though a correlation may be highly suggestive, only a carefully controlled experiment can come close to establishing causation.

Experiments

The experiment is science's most powerful tool for gathering observations. An experiment is distinguished from naturalistic observations in that it requires the systematic manipulation of some aspect of a situation. In an experiment, the observer controls certain variables (characteristics that can vary)—called independent variables—to investigate their effect, or lack of effect, on other variables, termed dependent variables.

For example, researchers wanting to conduct an experiment to examine the hypothesis (scientific prediction) that immunization causes autism would need to immunize a large group of children. The incidence of autism in this group would later be compared with that in another group of children who were not immunized but are comparable to the first group in all important ways. In this illustration, immunization is the independent variable; it is under the experimenter's control. Incidence of autism is the dependent variable.

A simple experiment of this kind uses an experimental group made up of participants who are treated in some special way (for example, immunized). The object is usually to discover whether the special treatment (independent variable) has a predictable effect on some outcome (dependent variable). To ensure that any changes in the dependent variable are due to the treatment, the experimental group is compared to a control group. The control group must be as similar as possible to the experimental group in all relevant ways except that it does not experience the special treatment

t is important to recognize that the results of experiments can be believed with confidence only when those results have been replicated—that is, when the same outcome can be observed in repetitions of similar experiments. In addition, the measurements that are used need to have validity (they need to measure what they claim to measure) and reliability (they need to measure accurately).

Measuring personality characteristics or developmental progress is not like measuring weight or height. Much of our measurement is indirect, and our measuring instruments are often crude and inexact. Even measures of characteristics such as intelligence, which has been extensively investigated, theorized about, and for which there are hundreds of different tests, have limited validity and reliability. This always needs to be taken into account when looking at developmental research.

Longitudinal and Cross-Sectional Research

There are two broad approaches to studying human development: A longitudinal study observes the same subjects over a period of time; a cross-sectional study compares different subjects at one point in time. For example, there are two ways of investigating differences in the rules used in games played by 2-year-olds and 6-year-olds. One way is to observe a group of 2-year-old children at play, and then four years later observe the same children again. This is the longitudinal approach, which, for these purposes, is more time-consuming than necessary. Similar results could be obtained by simultaneously observing several groups of 2- and 6-year-old children and then comparing them directly.

Sometimes a longitudinal investigation is designed to continue beyond the lifetime of a single investigator (or team of investigators). For example, the Terman study of giftedness began in the early 1920s and continues today (Terman, 1925; Millar, 2010). This can present problems and disadvantages, among which are the following:

Higher cost in money and time

The fact that instruments and methods may become outdated before completion

The possibility that some of the research questions will be answered in some other way before the project is finished

The loss of participants over time

It should be noted that many of the problems associated with longitudinal research apply only to longer-term research. But not all longitudinal research is very long-term. Longitudinal studies of infant development might span only weeks, or perhaps only days or hours.

Cross-sectional and longitudinal approaches are both essential for studying human development. For some questions, a longitudinal approach is necessary despite the time and cost involved. If investigators want to discover whether intelligence test scores change with age or remain stable, they need to observe the same children at different times. A cross-sectional approach cannot give us information about changes that occur over time within a single individual because it looks at each individual only once.

Sources of Developmental Variation: Age and Cohort Influences

Human development is defined as change over time. Developmental researchers are mainly interested in changes related to age: For example, how are 5-year-olds different from 3-yearolds? However, change in human development isn't always related only to age: It can also be related to other influences.

Cohort-Related Effects

For example, let's say that in 1970, I gave a vocabulary test to eight groups of 5-year-olds representing all geographic, ethnic, and social dimensions in my country. Then, 10 years later, I retest the same eight groups (a longitudinal study) and I find that there has been a 300% increase in vocabulary size. Can I conclude that this 300% increase is a normal age-related change?

Perhaps not. Maybe something quite unrelated to age has happened between 1970 and 1980 to account for this 300% increase in vocabulary (like the proliferation of computers, startlingly effective educational television programming, changes in nutrition, or other factors). The observed changes might be a function of factors related to experiences specific to this birth cohort (individuals born during the same period).

Birth cohorts are always of a specific initial size and composition. But the size decreases as members die, until it finally disappears completely. And before it disappears, its composition often changes as well. For example, because men die sooner than women, the male-female ratio of a cohort usually changes over time. Similarly, racial composition might also change as a result of different mortality rates.

What is especially important for the developmental psychologist is that a cohort may be subject to a variety of experiences that are very different from those to which members of other cohorts are exposed. For example, my grandmother's cohort dates to the turn of the twentieth century and includes people who were born into a world without electricity, television, computers, and airline travel. These cohort-related influences might be important in explaining why an 8-year-old in 2015 might be quite different from an 8-year-old in either 2025 or 1925.

Separating the Effects of Age and Cohort

One of the challenges that developmental researchers face is that of separating the effects of age and cohort. For example, because two different cohorts are involved, a cross-sectional study doesn't allow the investigator to determine whether differences between age groups are due to age- or cohort-related factors. Similarly, generalizations based on a longitudinal study might apply only to the specific cohort under investigation and not to other cohorts who have had different historical experiences.

One way of overcoming these problems is to use what are termed sequential designs (Tudge, Shanahan, & Valsiner, 1997). Essentially, these studies involve taking series of samples at different times of measurement. One well-known sequential design is the time-lag study in which different cohorts are compared at different times. For example, a time-lag study might compare 10-year-olds in 2006 with 10-year-olds in 2008, 2010, and 2012. Because subjects are of the same age when tested but were born in different years, they belong to different cohorts. Consequently, observed differences among the groups might reveal important cohort-related influences. (See Concept Summary: Methods of Studying Children.)

1.5 Evaluating Developmental Research

In practice, research methods are determined by the questions researchers want to answer. If you are interested in knowing whether children have more affection for cats than for dogs, you might simply compare the number of children who have dogs with the number who have cats (naturalistic observation). Alternately, you might ask a sample of children which they like best (interview technique). Or you might arrange for different children, alone and in groups, to meet different cats and dogs and assess the children's reactions (perhaps through simple visual observation, or by measuring their heart rates and other physiological functions).

Note that each of these approaches might lead to somewhat different answers for the same questions. Even if there are more cats than dogs in the homes of your subjects, children might really like dogs better (but their parents do not). And maybe, even if they do like dogs better, more would be afraid of dogs than of cats because strange dogs are somewhat more frightening than strange cats. An important point to keep in mind as you evaluate some of the studies described in this text is that answers are sometimes partly a function of research methods used.

Truth in psychology, as in most disciplines, is relative. The validity of research conclusions can seldom be judged as absolutely right or wrong, but must instead be evaluated in terms of how useful, clear, consistent, and generalizable the conclusions are. If research results apply only to the situation in which they were obtained, they are not very valuable.

When evaluating psychological research, there are a number of important questions you should ask.

Are the Samples Representative?

As we just saw, the conclusions of developmental research are usually intended to be generalized to an entire population—that is, to the entire group of individuals (or objects, or situations) with similar characteristics. For example, all fifth-grade American children defines a population; all left-handed, brown-eyed 4-year-olds make up another population.

In most cases, the populations that are of interest to a researcher are too large to be entirely included in the study. What the investigator does, instead, is select a representative sample from this larger population. One of the simplest and most effective ways of ensuring that the sample is representative is to use random sampling. Chances are that a large enough sample picked at random from a population will be very similar to the population in all important ways.

In many cases, however, experimenters are limited to samples that are convenient and available. Psychologists who want to study vocabulary development among 3-year-olds seldom have access to a random sample of 3-year-olds drawn from the entire population. Their sample will more likely be limited to one or two local pre-school groups. And although their findings might have far-ranging applicability, there is always the possibility that these convenient samples differ in important ways from the general population.

What Do Intergroup and Cultural Differences Really Mean?

There is a large body of research indicating that some Asian groups perform better than American students on measures of mathematics achievement (for example, Liu, 2009). Does this mean that Asian students are more intelligent than American students? That their educational system is better? That their curriculum is more deliberately aimed at producing good "test-takers"? That they are more highly motivated?

The fact that children from different cultures, or from different groups within one culture, often perform differently on various tests and in different situations underlines the importance of asking two questions: (1) Are the tests and assessment procedures we're using suitable for different cultures? and (2) What might cause the observed differences? Conclusions based on research conducted only with North American samples may not be valid in Western Europe or in third-world countries—that is, they may lack ecological validity. Similarly, research conducted only with white middle-class subjects in North America should not be generalized to the entire population.

Do Conclusions Rely on Autobiographical Memory?

When Hampsten (1991) studied the diaries and letters of American pioneer women, she found that life had been harsh and difficult for their children. Most children had to work hard at very young ages, many were exposed to a variety of physical dangers, and many died or were maimed. But when the children, as adults, wrote accounts of their childhoods, they described tons of happy experiences—and almost no bad times. Would the accounts have been different had they written them when they were children?

Perhaps. We don't really know. But we do know that autobiographical memory is highly unreliable. Researchers who use people's recollections to understand the past must take into consideration the possibility of unintentional distortions.

Do Results Depend on Subject Honesty?

Researchers must also consider whether subjects might distort the facts intentionally, especially when personal matters are being researched. Comparisons of adolescent sexual behavior today with behavior characteristic of adolescents several generations ago are typically unreliable, at least partly for this reason. Given prevailing attitudes toward sexual behavior, it is not unreasonable to suppose that today's adolescents are more likely to be more open about sexual behavior than adolescents of the 1920s might have been.

Is There a Possibility of Experimenter Bias?

Some research indicates that investigators sometimes unconsciously bias their observations to conform to their expectations. One way of guarding against experimenter bias is the double- blind procedure, where experimenters, examiners, and participants remain unaware of either the expected outcomes of the research or of which participants are members of experimental and control groups.

Might There Be Subject Bias?

Subject bias may also affect the outcomes of an experiment. In a highly publicized experiment, two psychologists compared ways to increase productivity among workers in the Hawthorne plant of the Western Electric Company in Chicago. In successive experiments, workers were subjected to shorter working periods, longer working periods, better lighting conditions, poorer lighting conditions, long periods of rest, short periods of rest, bonuses or no bonuses, and a variety of other conditions. Under most of these conditions, productivity apparently increased, an observation that led to the conclusion that if subjects are aware that they are members of an experimental group, performance may improve simply because of that fact (Roethlisberger & Dickson, 1939).

Although the Hawthorne effect, as it is now called, is usually accepted as fact in social science research, more recent research has shown that it is not always apparent or very significant (Chiesa & Hobbs, 2008). Nevertheless, the possibility that the outcome of an experiment might be affected by participants' desire to please investigators should always be taken into account.

Is the Research Ethical?

Finally, as an informed and concerned consumer of research, you need to ask how ethical the research is. Were participants informed or were they duped into participating? Was their privacy safeguarded? Was the research justified by its potential contribution to basic or applied research?

Developmental psychology no longer tolerates research that in any way jeopardizes the physical or mental well-being of children, or that fails to recognize their uniqueness and worth. And it recognizes more clearly than ever that each child's journey is different. Some take a direct, highly predictable passage to their destination; others saunter along different paths.

Chapter 2

2.1 Theories in Psychology

My grandmother's ramblings were a lesson in theory building—a lesson that I now pass on. A theory need not be an exotic collection of obscure pronouncements; nor does it substitute for facts in the absence of the latter. In its simplest sense, a theory is an explanation of facts. As Thomas (2005) explains, to theorize is to speculate about which facts and which relationships among these facts are most important for understanding children.

Purposes of Psychological Theories

A theory is a collection of related statements intended to organize and explain observations. In psychology, as in other sciences, explanation is very important. If we can explain something, we can not only make predictions about it, but also control it. That my grandmother understands why specific manures affect certain crops in given ways allows her to predict these effects and to exercise a high degree of control over her garden.

Similarly, if a theory explains why it is that some children are happy and others are not, then it should be possible, given relevant facts, to predict which children will be happy. And if the circumstances affecting happiness are under our control, it should also be possible to bring happiness to saddened lives. Thus theories can be very practical.

Theories are also one of science's most important guides for doing research. It is a theory that tells the medical researcher where to look for a cure for cancer, what the cure will look like when it is found, and how it might be used. In the same way, psychology's theories tell the psychologist where and how to look for change in the course of development. They suggest as well what some of the causes of change might be and how change might be predicted and perhaps even controlled.

A theory of child development is very much like a detailed map. It guides our study and our understanding. It tells us what routes to follow if we are to understand children's journeys. And it points out what we should look for during our travels.

Scientific theories are seldom based on the kinds of observation that were of such interest to my grandmother. Science, if nothing else, insists on objectivity, precision, and replicability (repeatability). The classic "scientific method" (state the problem, make a prediction, select methods and gather required materials, make observations, and reach conclusions) is simply a way of ensuring that observations are made under sufficiently controlled circumstances that they can be replicated and confirmed by other scientists.

Characteristics of Good Theories

We cannot easily determine whether a theory is right or wrong. But we can at least decide whether or not it is useful. The best theories, says Thomas (2005), are those that

accurately reflect the facts

are expressed in a clearly understandable way

are useful for predicting future events as well as explaining past ones

can be applied in a practical sense (have real value for counselors, teachers, pediatricians, and so on)

are not based on a large number of assumptions (unproven beliefs)

provide reasonable answers for the questions they address

Models Underlying Theories of Child Development

Theorists don't all share the same views of people, of human nature, and of the child's developmental voyage. Sometimes they make very different assumptions about what is involved in that journey. For example, some theorists think it useful to view people as though they were machines. This mechanistic model suggests that in the same way as machines are highly predictable, so too might it be possible to predict—and control—human behavior given sufficient knowledge about the conditions that affect it.

Other theorists insist that it is more useful to emphasize the biological, highly active, selfdirected aspects of humans. This organismic model describes development as resulting from self-initiated activities. It looks for regularities in behavior to understand the uniqueness of the individual.

A third model, the contextual model (sometimes labeled the ecological model), emphasizes the role of society, culture, and family in shaping the outcomes of development.

The organismic model is reflected in theories such as those of Freud, Erikson, and Piaget; the mechanistic model is evident in early behavioristic learning theories such as that of Watson; and the contextual model is apparent in the theorizing of Bronfenbrenner, Bandura, Vygotsky, Thelen, Maslow, and behaviorists such as Skinner.

2.2 Psychoanalytic and Psychosocial Approaches

One of the best known and most influential of all psychological theories is that of Sigmund Freud, the psychoanalytic approach. This theory is based on the assumption that the most important causes of human behavior and personality are deep-seated, usually unconscious forces within individuals. Freud believed that these forces, some of which are in conflict with each other, are at the root of mental disorders. Hence psychoanalysts (Freudian therapists) can help restore mental health, argued Freud, by helping patients understand their unconscious drives and resulting conflicts (Freud, 1940/2003).

Basic Freudian Ideas

Perhaps the most basic of all Freudian ideas is the notion that the human odyssey is driven by two powerful drives: the drive toward life (Eros) and an opposing drive toward death (Thanatos). Of special importance to child development is the drive toward life. It is evident in our basic urge to survive and to procreate (Freud, 1940/2003). The urge to survive is not usually threatened by our environments, but the urge to procreate is constantly being discouraged and prevented—especially in the Victorian period during which Freud lived. As a result, sexual urges are so important in Freud's description of development that they are given a special term: libido. Libidinal urges refer not only to activities that are clearly associated with sex but to all other activities that may be linked with body pleasure, however remotely (for example, behaviors such as thumb sucking or smoking cigarettes).

Three Levels of Personality

There are three sequential stages of personality development, says Freud, apparent in the development of id, ego, and superego (Lear, 2005).

ID The Freudian infant is all instincts (unlearned tendencies) and primitive reflexes seeking almost desperately to satisfy urges based on the drive to survive and to procreate. These urges, labeled id, are a lifetime source of motivation for all we do. But, unlike older children and adults, the infant has no idea of what is possible or impossible nor any sense of right and wrong. As a result, the infant is driven by an almost overwhelming urge to satisfy impulses immediately. An infant who is hungry does not wait; right now is the time for the nipple and the sucking!

EGO But life is not always kind. Almost from birth, there is a clash between these powerful libidinal urges and reality. For example, hunger, perhaps the most powerful of the survival-linked drives, can't always be satisfied immediately. Repeated conflict between id impulses and reality results in the development of the ego, the rational level of personality that grows from a realization of what is possible and what is not. Although the id wants immediate gratification, the ego tries to channel desires in the most profitable direction for the individual.

SUPEREGO There is no conflict between the goals of the id and the ego: Both work toward satisfying the needs and urges of the individual. But the third level of personality, the superego, acts in direct opposition to the first two. The superego is essentially the person's conscience. Like the ego, it develops from repeated contact with reality, but it reflects social rather than physical reality. As such, it is concerned with right and wrong.

The superego (or conscience) begins to develop in early childhood, says Freud, and results mainly from the child's identifying with parents, and especially with the same-sex parent. Identification involves attempting to become like others—adopting their values and beliefs as well as their behaviors. By identifying with their parents, children learn the religious and cultural rules that govern their parents' behaviors; these rules then become part of a child's superego. Because many religious, social, and cultural rules oppose the urges of the id, the superego and the id are generally in conflict. Freud assumed that this conflict underlies many mental disorders and accounts for much deviant behavior.

Freud's Psychosexual Stages

Freud's description of the development of these three levels of personality—the id, ego, and superego—traces the child's progression through a series of five psychosexual stages. Because Freud believed that the main underlying source of energy for human behavior and development is sexual, stages in psychosexual development are identified and distinguished mainly in terms of the objects or activities necessary for the satisfaction of basic urges during that stage.

The Oral Stage

The oral stage, which lasts to about 18 months, is characterized by the infant's preoccupation with the mouth, with sucking, and with eating. During this first stage, children constantly seek to satisfy their urges and are incapable of deliberately delaying gratification.

The Anal Stage

During the second year, the area of sexual gratification shifts from the oral region to the anal region. In the early part of the anal stage, says Freud, the infant derives pleasure from bowel movements. But later, as the child acquires control of sphincter muscles, pleasure may come from withholding bowel movements to increase anal sensation. Both of these behaviors oppose the mother's wishes, creating a conflict that leads to the development of the ego—a sense of reality, an awareness that some things are possible and others are not, coupled with the ability to delay gratification to some extent.

Freud believed that development sometimes becomes stuck at a particular level (fixation) or goes back to a more primitive level (regression). The anal-retentive personality (stingy, self-centered) is one example of fixation or regression at the anal stage. Similarly, the oralaggressive personality (loud, boorish, insistent) might result from developmental problems linked with the oral stage (Agmon & Schneider, 1998). In a sense, it's as though the child's journey runs into roadblocks that are difficult to get around (fixation), or as though the child turns around and goes back to a more familiar, more comfortable stretch of road (regression).

The Phallic Stage

In the Greek legend, King Oedipus, who has been abandoned by his parents and then adopted, ends up unwittingly killing his father and marrying his mother. Each of us who is male, claims Freud, is a little like Oedipus: As we progress through the phallic stage (roughly ages 2 to 6), our increasing awareness of the sexual meanings of our genitals leads us to desire our mothers and to wish to replace our fathers—all unconsciously, of course. This is our Oedipus complex. Healthy resolution of this complex depends on being able to identify closely with our fathers, at the same time renouncing the lust we sense unconsciously for our mothers.

For girls, too, there is a similar developmental progression marked by what Halberstadt-Freud (1998) describes as vehement rejection of the mother based on an unrecognized jealousy of her. This jealousy results from the girl's sexual feelings for her father, and is labeled the Electra complex.

The Latency Stage

The resolution of the Oedipus or the Electra complex marks the transition from the phallic stage to a period of sexual latency (roughly ages 6 to 11). This period is marked by a loss of sexual interest in the opposite-sex parent and a continued identification with the same-sex parent. The process of identification is very important in Freud's system because it not only involves attempts to behave like the parent with whom the child is identifying but also implies attempting to be like the object of identification in terms of beliefs and values. In this way, the child begins to develop a superego. Note that identification, like many other significant phenomena described by Freud, is largely an unconscious rather than a conscious process.

The Genital Stage

At about age 11, following a lengthy period of sexual neutrality, the child enters the stage of adult sexuality. The hallmark of this stage is typically the beginning of heterosexual (or homosexual) attachments. Also, during this last developmental stage the superego (conscience), which has previously been very rigid, becomes progressively more flexible as the adolescent mature.

Erik Erikson's Psychosocial Stage Theory

Of the theories inspired by Freud's psychoanalytic views, that developed by Erik Erikson (1956, 1959, 1961, 1968) is the most important and influential in human development. Although Erikson's theory draws heavily from Freud's work, it rejects his emphasis on the role of sexuality (libido). Instead, Erikson describes how children's journeys are influenced by their social environment. His is a theory of psychosocial development—not of psychosexual development. Unlike Freud's theory, it is concerned with the development of a healthy personality rather than with the resolution of powerful internal conflicts.

There are eight broad developmental stages that span our lives, says Erikson. The first five of these stretch from infancy through adolescence; the final three cover the period from adulthood to death.

Each of Erikson's stages is identified in terms of a basic conflict brought about mainly by the need to adapt to the social environment—hence psychosocial rather than psychosexual. At each level, new competencies are required of the individual if that stage's conflicts are to be resolved.

Trust versus Mistrust

For example, in the first year of life, the infant has to learn how to trust. Trust is one of the basic components of a healthy personality. But, says Erikson (1959), the infant has a strong tendency to mistrust the world because so little is known about it. This presents a conflict with the infant's inclination to develop a trusting attitude and to become more independent—hence trust versus mistrust.

The most important person in an infant's life at this stage is the primary caregiver—usually the mother. Successful resolution of the conflict between trust and mistrust depends largely on the infant's relationship with this caregiver and on the gradual realization that the world is predictable, safe, and loving. If the world is unpredictable and the caregiver rejecting, says Erikson, the infant may grow up to be mistrustful and anxious.

Autonomy versus Shame and Doubt

In the beginning, infants have no sense of themselves as authors of their own actions: They react rather than act. But during this second stage, they gradually realize that some intentions can be acted upon—that, for example, the nipple can deliberately be sucked. As a result, they begin to develop a sense of autonomy. However, this autonomy is threatened by an inclination not to accept responsibility for personal actions, but instead to return to the comfort and security that characterized the first stage—hence the autonomy versus shame and doubt conflict (Erikson, 1961). If children are to resolve this conflict successfully and develop a sense of autonomy, it's important that parents encourage attempts to explore and that they provide opportunities for independence. Overprotectiveness can lead to doubt and uncertainty in dealing with the world later. What the child needs, according to Erikson (l959), is a balance between parental firmness and flexibility.

Note that here, as in all of Erikson's stages, the resolution of the psychosocial conflict is never absolutely final. The conflict between the urge to be both dependent and autonomous continues throughout the lifespan. But it is a conflict that, at least in the case of normal, healthy development, provides little unhappiness or turmoil.

Initiative versus Guilt

By the age of 4 or 5, children have resolved the crisis of autonomy: They have discovered that they are autonomous and independent, that they are somebody. During this next stage they establish a wider physical and social environment, made possible by their greater freedom of movement and by their increasingly advanced language development. And with their increasing exploration of the environment, they develop a sense of initiative: Not only are they autonomous, but they are also responsible for their behavior.

Because the central process involved in resolving the initiative versus guilt conflict is one of identification, parents and family continue to be the most important influences in a child's development. It is important for parents to encourage young children's sense of initiative and to nurture a sense of responsibility.

Industry versus Inferiority

The fourth developmental stage, industry versus inferiority, is marked by an increasing need to interact with and be accepted by peers—mainly same-sex peers. It now becomes crucial for children to discover that their selves, their identities, are significant and that they can do things—in short, that they are industrious and competent. Children now take advantage of opportunities to learn things they think are important to their culture, hoping that by so doing they will become someone. Successful resolution of this stage's conflict depends greatly on the responses of significant social agencies—especially schools and teachers—to children's efforts. If the child's work is continually demeaned and seldom praised, the outcome may be a lasting sense of inferiority.

Identity versus Role Confusion

The most highly researched and widely discussed of all of Erikson's ideas relates to his notion of identity development during adolescence. At a simple level, the formation of an identity involves arriving at a notion of who one is and can be. The source of conflict lies in the various possibilities open to adolescents—possibilities that are magnified by the variety of cultural models in the environment. Conflict and doubt over choice of identity lead to what Erikson terms role confusion. It is as though adolescents are torn between early acceptance of a clearly defined self and the dissipation of their energies as they experiment with a variety of roles. One of the primary functions of adolescence is to serve as a period during which the child need not make a final decision concerning the self (as a moratorium, in Erikson's words).

Adult Stages

Erikson's description of development does not end with adolescence but continues throughout the entire lifespan. He describes three additional psychosocial conflicts that occur during adulthood and old age and require new competencies and adjustments. These are included in Figure 2.3.

2.3 Behavioristic Approaches

Freud and Erikson's psychoanalytic approaches have a number of important things in common: First, they are developmental theories (they are concerned with changes that occur over time); second, they are stage theories (development consists of progression through sequential stages); and third, they make important assumptions concerning the biological (inherited) aspects of behavior and personality.

Basic Assumptions of Behavioristic Approaches

Behavioristic approaches do not share any of these characteristics to any important extent. They present an entirely different kind of map of children's journeys—one that makes few assumptions about biological predispositions or about unconscious forces, and that doesn't describe sequential stages of increasing capabilities and competencies.

As the term implies, behaviorism focuses on actual behavior. Behavioristic theory is especially concerned with relationships between experience and behavior; consequently it makes extensive use of concepts such as reinforcement and punishment, which describe how behavior may be encouraged or discouraged.

Behavioristic approaches to development (also referred to as learning theory approaches) make two fundamental assumptions: (1) behavior consists of responses or actions that can be observed, measured, and analyzed; and (2) behavior is highly responsive to reinforcement (usually rewards) and punishment. Accordingly, the main goals of behavioristic theorists have been to discover the rules that govern relationships between a stimulus (plural: stimuli: conditions that lead to behavior) and a response, and to learn how responses can be controlled through the administration of rewards and punishments.

The behavioristic approach was introduced into American psychology through the work of John B. Watson and B. F. Skinner and led to a dramatic upheaval in psychology. Both theorists believed strongly in the importance of the environment as the principal force in shaping development. Watson is associated with a learning theory based on a model of classical conditioning; Skinner developed a model of operant conditioning. Conditioning refers to a simple kind of learning whereby certain behaviors are affected by the environment, becoming more or less probable.

Classical Conditioning

The name of the Russian physiologist, Ivan Pavlov (1927), will probably be forever associated with classical conditioning. Ironically, however, he stumbled upon his most famous observation almost by accident while studying the digestive processes of dogs—work for which he was awarded no less than the 1904 Nobel prize in medicine and physiology!

While studying digestion, Pavlov noticed that the more experienced animals in his laboratory began to salivate even before they had any food in their mouths. In fact, they began to drool as soon as they saw their keeper approaching. Pavlov reasoned that they were salivating because they had formed some sort of association between the sight of the keeper and the presentation of food—an association that defines classical conditioning.

In a well-known demonstration of this phenomenon, food powder is injected into a dog's mouth. The food powder is termed an unconditioned stimulus (US) because it leads to a response (salivation) without any learning (any conditioning) having to take place. Because the salivation occurs in response to an unconditioned stimulus, it is an unconditioned response (UR). Now the food powder is paired with another distinctive stimulus, such as the sound of a bell. The bell is initially a neutral stimulus: It does not lead to salivation. But after the bell has been paired often enough with the food, it becomes a conditioned stimulus (CS) which now leads readily to salivation—now termed a conditioned response (CR) because it occurs in response to a conditioned stimulus.

An Example: Little Albert

Watson believed that in the same way as behaviors can be conditioned in animals, so, too, might they be in humans. For example, he reasoned, infants typically react with fear when they hear a sudden, loud noise. The noise is an unconditioned stimulus for an unconditioned fear response. It follows from what we know about classical conditioning that if a frightening noise were paired often enough with a neutral stimulus, the neutral stimulus might eventually become a conditioned stimulus that would reliably lead to a conditioned fear reaction.

In a widely known demonstration of this possibility, Watson and his assistant, Rosalie Rayner, presented an 11-month-old infant, Little Albert, with a white rat (Watson & Rayner, 1920). In the beginning, Little Albert played fearlessly with the rat. But then Watson (or Rayner, the point isn't clear from Watson's notes) pounded a 3-foot long, 1-inch steel bar just behind Albert. But Albert, being a brave little fellow, didn't immediately start crying. So again, someone banged the bar. This time, Albert began to whimper. "On account of his disturbed condition," wrote Watson, "no further tests were made for one week" (1930, p. 60).

A week later, Albert was brought back into the lab and the banging and the rat were paired a total of five times. After that, whenever Albert saw the rat, he started to cry and tried to crawl away. "Surely," claimed Watson, "this is proof of the conditioned origin of a fear response. It yields an explanatory principle that will account for the enormous complexity in the emotional behavior of adults" (1930, p. 161).

Although Watson and Rayner's demonstration with Little Albert is more systematic than most situations in which we acquire emotional responses, Watson believed that the results could be generalized and that classical conditioning accounts for much of our emotional learning. My brother is a case in point. When he was five, he ran over a snake with his tricycle and ended up crying in the ditch. Now, years later, when we tour strange countries on our bicycles, he constantly watches for snakes. And if he sees one, he jumps off his bike and walks as far around it as he can. He is conditioned to fear snakes; he has little control over his physiological reactions when he sees one.

Operant Conditioning

Classical conditioning is sometimes useful for explaining simple learning such as my brother's reaction to snakes. But, as Skinner (1953, 1957, 1961) points out, many human behaviors are not evoked by obvious stimuli such as snakes (elicited responses), but are simply produced by the organism (emitted responses). In Skinner's terms, an emitted behavior is an operant; an elicited response is a respondent. Skinner's work is mainly an attempt to explain how operants are learned.

Skinner's most widely known experiments were with rats. When placed in specially equipped cages, they quickly learned to depress a lever as a result of being reinforced for doing so. Similarly, pigeons can easily be conditioned to peck—or not to peck—at a disk depending on the consequences of pecking. It seems clear, says Skinner, that the likelihood of a response being repeated has a lot to do with its consequences. Behaviors that are reinforced tend to be repeated; those that are not reinforced or that are punished are less likely to be repeated.

Reinforcement and Punishment

That which increases the probability of a response occurring is said to be reinforcing. A reinforcer is the stimulus that reinforces; reinforcement is the effect of a reinforcer.

Reinforcement is positive when the addition of something, such as a reward, leads to an increase in behavior. It is negative when the removal of something, such as an unpleasant (aversive) stimulus, leads to an increase in behavior. The important point is that both positive reinforcement and negative reinforcement increase the probability of a response occurring. Whereas positive reinforcement involves a reward for behavior, negative reinforcement involves relief from something unpleasant.

In the same way as there are two kinds of reinforcement, there are two corresponding kinds of punishment. One kind involves the introduction of an unpleasant consequence (for example, physical punishment). This is sometimes referred to as presentation punishment because it involves presenting an aversive stimulus (castigation). Another kind of punishment involves taking away something that is pleasant, such as being prevented from watching television (called a time-out procedure), or having to give up something desirable such as money or privileges (called response-cost punishment). This type of punishment is sometimes labeled removal punishment.

Distinctions among the various kinds of reinforcement and punishment are illustrated in Figure 2.5. As the illustration makes clear, both reinforcement and punishment may involve stimuli with pleasant or aversive effects, but whether these stimuli are added to or removed from the situation determines whether they are reinforcing or punishing. It is worth emphasizing again that both reinforcement and punishment are defined by their effects. Many types of reinforcers, some of which are described in Figure 2.6, can be used systematically in childrearing and in the classroom.

Shaping

Using reinforcement and the principles of operant conditioning, it is relatively easy to teach a rat to depress a lever, a pigeon to peck a disk, or a dog to fetch a stick: These are some of the things rats, pigeons, and dogs do. But, as Guthrie (1935) observes, "We cannot teach cows to retrieve a stick because this is one of the things that cows do not do" (1935, p. 45).

Guthrie may have been wrong. Although no normal cow is likely to emit spontaneous stickfetching behavior—as might a dog—Skinner describes a technique that just might work with this problem. Clearly, you cannot simply wait around for the cow to pick up a stick and then reward her—say with a nice bale of new-mown hay. What you have to do, Skinner explains, is reinforce responses that are progressively closer approximations to the final, desired behavior. In the beginning, for example, you might reinforce the cow every time she turns toward the stick. Later, you would reinforce her only when she takes a step in that direction. Little by little, you might eventually succeed in shaping the cow's behavior to such an extent that she will gladly run and fetch a stick every time you throw one. Or not. (See In the Classroom: The Bubble-Gum Machine.)

Social Cognitive Theory: Albert Bandura

Yet another map maker, Albert Bandura, presents a somewhat different emphasis. Operant learning, he explains, might be a highly inefficient and ineffective way of learning if all we could do is gradually shape behavior through successive reinforcements, or, worse yet, wait for a fully formed behavior (operant) to be emitted and then hope it will be reinforced. Would it be reasonable to expect that an inexperienced learner, given keys and a car, would learn to drive as a result of, by chance, emitting the right sequence of operants and being sufficiently reinforced before running up against a tree?

Not likely. But the fact is that there are few inexperienced 15-year-olds. Most have seen others driving; many have read instructions and listened to peers talk about how you start and drive cars. In Bandura's terms, they have been exposed to many different models.

Much of our learning, says Bandura, is observational learning (learning through imitation). It results from imitating models. But learning through imitation, Bandura (1977, 1997) points out, is really a form of operant learning. That's because an imitative behavior is much like an operant; it's not just a response to a specific stimulus. And imitative behaviors are often reinforced in one of two ways. Direct reinforcement occurs when the consequences of an imitative behavior lead to reinforcement—as, for example, when a child learns to say milk as a result of imitating a parent and is then given milk. Vicarious reinforcement involves a kind of second-hand reinforcement—as when observing someone else being rewarded leads to further imitation (Bandura & Walters, 1963).

Effects of Imitation

In Bandura's theory, a model may be either an actual person or a symbolic model (for example, characters in books, television, or film; oral or written instructions; photos, cartoon characters, star athletes, and so on). Nor are models always examples of more advanced skills and competencies displayed by older people, as might be the case when children imitate adults. As Flynn and Whiten (2010) note, even preschoolers imitate and learn all sorts of behaviors from each other, including social behaviors, games, and even important elements of language.

Through imitation, explain Bandura and Walters (1963), young children (and adults) learn three different classes of behavior:

They learn new behaviors (the modeling effect). For example, in one of Bandura's experiments, (described in Chapter 8), 3- to 7-year old children exposed to violent models beating up and being verbally aggressive with an inflated "bobo" doll later displayed precisely imitative aggressive behaviors (Bandura, Ross, & Ross, 1961).

They learn to suppress deviant behaviors (the inhibitory effect) usually as a result of seeing a model being punished for a similar behavior. Or they learn to engage in previously suppressed behaviors (the disinhibitory effect), often as a result of the model's being reinforced for similar behaviors. For example, if 7-year-old Edward's friends steal the neighbor's forbidden apples, the amount of reinforcement he thinks they receive (in terms of the "fun" and prestige they seem to gain) may disinhibit his refusal to join them. That Edward now steals apples does not mean that he has learned something new, as in modeling; it simply illustrates that his previously suppressed "deviant" behavior has been disinhibited. But if Edward later sees his friends apprehended and punished, he might quickly stop stealing apples (the inhibitory effect).

They learn to engage in behaviors similar but not identical to those of the model (eliciting effect). In this case, the behavior is neither novel (as in the modeling effect) nor deviant (as in the inhibitory-disinhibitory effect). It's as though the model's behavior suggests some related response to the observer and therefore elicits that response. The eliciting effect is evident when a kindergartener's "acting up" elicits a range of other misbehaviors in his classmates.

Triadic Reciprocal Determinism

Some behaviors (such as our classically conditioned fears) are under the control of stimuli (snakes, for example), explains Bandura. Others (such as our love of material possessions) are controlled more by their reinforcing consequences (like praise for our shiny new toys). And a third group, such as our dedication to work and study, are controlled by cognitive activities (like imagining the eventual consequences of our sacrifices). Bandura refers to these behavior control systems as stimulus control, outcome control, and symbolic control.

In the end, although the reinforcements and punishments that children's environments provide clearly affect their behavior, it is the symbolic control system that is most important in Bandura's theory. We are not simply pawns, he explains, reacting unconsciously to stimuli, pushed this way and that by rewards and punishments. We are in control, Bandura (1997) insists: We are agents of our own actions.

Being agents of our actions requires three things: intention, forethought, and self-reflection. That is, we can't be in control of our actions unless we intend them, anticipate their consequences, and have some notion of the likelihood of accomplishing what we intend.

That we are agents of our actions is reflected in our habit of deliberately arranging our environments to try to control the consequences of our actions. Even 4-year-old Jenna chooses aspects of her environment: She deliberately avoids her cousins, Michael and Jack, who like to play rough games that sometimes hurt. On the other hand, she runs to play with Jessica, who always tells her how pretty she is.

Even at this age, as Bandura explains, we both affect and are affected by our contexts (social and physical environments). This notion is summarized in Bandura's phrase triadic reciprocal determinism. As shown in Figure 2.8, the three main factors that affect who we are and what we do are personal factors (our personalities; what we know, feel, and intend); our actions (what we do); and our contexts (the social and physical aspects of our environments). These three factors affect each other reciprocally. For example, a frustrating environment might change 5-year-old Harry's personality, leading him to loud and violent "meltdowns." These actions might change his relationship with his parents, affecting their behavior toward him, thus changing important aspects of his social relationships. And the changing social environment might, in turn, increase the frequency and severity of his meltdowns.

On the other hand, instead of leading to violent outbursts, a frustrating environment might increase Harry's patience and determination, and might lead him to enlist the help of his parents for difficult undertakings. The reciprocal influence of person, action, and environment might be no less in this case, but the outcomes will be very different

Self-Efficacy

To be successful and effective agents of our own actions, we must think well of our personal competence—in Bandura's (1997) terms, our self-efficacy judgments. Efficacy means competence in dealing with the environment. The most efficacious people are those who can most effectively deal with a variety of situations. Thus self-efficacy has two separate but related components: the skills that are required for the successful performance of a behavior, and an individual's beliefs about personal effectiveness. From a psychological point of view, it is not so much the skills component that is important, but rather people's perceptions of their own self-efficacy.

The Development of Self-Efficacy in Early Childhood

Not long ago my oldest son said something that surprised and alarmed me. We were talking about the various foolish things each of us had done when we were very young. I didn't have much to say. He did.

"Remember that house we had in California?" he asked. "Well, I used to think I'd be able to fly from the upstairs window if I held a really clean sheet over my head like Superman's cape. And I almost tried it one day but I didn't know where the clean sheets were. So I didn't jump."

Young children don't have very good notions of their personal capabilities. Their self-judgment, and their corresponding self-guidance, is less than perfect. As a result, without external controls they, like my son, would often be in danger of severely hurting themselves. Instead of imposing on themselves the internal self-judgment, "I can't do that," they require the external judgment, "You can't do that." As Harter (1988) reports, most young children have an exaggerated and unrealistic notion of self. For example, when asked if they think they are "smart" or "not smart," there is a definite bias in the direction of "smart."

The sense of personal control over behavior, essential for judgments of personal efficacy, begins to develop very early in infancy. Some of its roots lie in an infant's discovery that looking at the mother makes her look back in return; that smiling or crying draws her attention; that waving a hand makes her smile. Later, as infants begin to move around freely, they begin to learn more about the effects of their behaviors—and also more about their own effectiveness.

Importance of Self-Efficacy Judgments

As Bandura phrases it, "Perceived self-efficacy refers to beliefs in one's capabilities to organize and execute the courses of action required to produce given attainments" (1997, p. 3). This aspect of self-knowledge is critically important, says Bandura. Among other things, it's an important determiner of what we do and don't do. Under most circumstances, children don't seek out and undertake activities in which they expect to perform badly. "Efficacy beliefs," says Bandura (1993, p. 118), "influence how people feel, think, motivate themselves, and behave."

Judgments of personal efficacy affect not only children's choices of activities and settings, but also the amount of effort they are willing to exert when faced with difficulties. The stronger their beliefs about their personal efficacy, the more likely they are to persist and the greater will be the effort expended. But if their notions of self-efficacy are not very favorable, they may abandon challenging activities after very little effort and time.

Perceived self-efficacy influences thoughts and emotions as well as behaviors. Those who believe that their effectiveness is low are more likely to evaluate their behaviors negatively and to see themselves as being inadequate. Not surprisingly, negative evaluations of personal effectiveness have been shown to be related to depression and emotional problems in children (Bandura, Pastorelli, Barbaranelli, Caprara, & Gian, 1999).

Finally, as illustrated in In the Classroom: Yay, Jennifer!, notions of self-efficacy are intimately linked with what children think and feel about their selves. Children want to mean something. They want others to think they are worthwhile, important, effective. And they're not likely to believe that is the case if they don't have positive evaluations of their personal effectiveness. That's why parents, schools, and peers are so important: Each tells children a great deal about how well they can do things—or how badly.

2.4 Cognitive Approaches

Psychoanalytic theories are concerned mainly with personality development; behavioristic theories emphasize behavior and its consequences; and cognitive theories focus on children's intellectual development. Cognition is the art or faculty of knowing. Cognitive theories are concerned with how we obtain, process, and use information.

For many decades, the most widely cited and most influential of all theories of cognitive development has been that of Jean Piaget—a map maker who developed his complex, farreaching theory over a career spanning more than half a century.

Piaget's Basic Ideas

Probably the most basic of all of Piaget's ideas is this: Human development is a process of adaptation. And the highest form of adaptation for humans involves cognition (or knowing). This idea stems directly from the fact that Piaget was trained as a biologist rather than as a psychologist. As a biologist, he asks two questions about child development: (1) What are the characteristics and capabilities of children that allow them to adapt? and (2) What is the most useful way of classifying or ordering child development? Assimilation and accommodation lead to adaptation is his highly abbreviated answer for the first question; development can be ordered in stages answers the second. Piaget's answers for these two questions are the basis for his theory.

Adaptation through Assimilation and Accommodation

The newborn infant, says Piaget, is in many ways a helpless little organism, unaware that the world out there is real, lacking any storehouse of thoughts with which to reason or any capacity for intentional behaviors, and having only a few simple reflexes like sneezing, swallowing, and sucking. But these reflexes allow the child to assimilate important aspects of the environment. Assimilation, Piaget explains, involves making a response that has already been learned, or that was present at birth.

But previously learned responses and reflexes aren't always sufficient. The newborn's sucking reflex may be adequate for ordinary nipples but might not work quite as well for fingers and toes; the preschooler's understanding of numbers might serve for keeping track of toys but may not impress kindergarten teachers. Assimilating these situations to old learning is not sufficient. In Piaget's words, the child is in a state of disequilibrium. There is a lack of balance between the child's capabilities and the requirements of the situation.

This state of disequilibrium leads to changes in knowledge and behavior—changes that define accommodation. And if the changes are appropriate—for example, the infant can now suck the toe or finger, and the preschooler learns what 2 + 2 equals—there is a new state of equilibrium. Put another way, there is now a balance between assimilation (using old behaviors and knowledge) and accommodation (making changes in response to the environment). Finding this balance involves what Piaget calls equilibration.

Equilibration, the balancing of assimilation and accommodation, along with maturation, active experience, and social interaction, are the forces that lead to change and adaptation (see Chapter 5 for more information and for an illustration of assimilation and accommodation).

Piaget's Stage Theory

The second of Piaget's questions asks what is the most useful way of organizing and describing child development. His answer is found in a description of the four major stages through which children pass. Each stage is marked by strikingly different perceptions of the world and different adaptations to it; each stage is the product of learning that occurred in earlier stages; and each is a preparation for the next stage.

As we see in later chapters, not all researchers agree that Piaget has accurately described child development. He is often accused of having underestimated the abilities of younger children—and perhaps of having overestimated those of older children (Sutherland, 1992).

The stages are summarized briefly in Figure 2.9

Information-Processing Approaches

Information-processing approaches are an important subset of cognitive theories. In a sense, these are less theories of cognitive development than a general framework for studying how we process information mentally. Unlike Piaget's theory, which is mainly concerned with describing changes in children's cognitions—that is, what they can and cannot do; what they understand and don't understand—information processing approaches try to identify the processes and the mental representations that are involved in cognitive activity. As we see in later chapters, researchers in this area investigate topics such as memory, problem solving, reasoning, and language. They are less interested in whether children can solve problems or remember concepts, but more in how they accomplish these tasks.

Information-processing approaches are often based on a computer analogy: They assume that to the extent that both humans and computers manipulate symbols, one can serve as an analogy for the other. Some information-processing theorists try to simulate human cognitive processes with computers, assuming that by so doing, they might discover unexpected things about the human mind.

Information-processing theorists also assume that the human cognitive system has discoverable properties, and that its functioning can be understood in terms of these properties. For example, as we see in Chapter 7, memory has limitations in terms of capacity and accuracy. Why and how this is the case is a question for information-processing research. Put another way, information-processing theory focuses on the specific processes and mental representations involved in activities such as thinking, perceiving, sensing, and remembering. Much of the research and many of the conclusions we look at in later chapters are based on information- processing research.

2.5 Biological and Ecological Approaches

Biological approaches to understanding human development emphasize innate behavior patterns or tendencies. These approaches are often based on research with nonhuman animals in which genetic influences are sometimes more readily apparent than among humans. In contrast, ecological approaches emphasize the importance of the individual's context (social, cultural, historical, and physical environment). Ecology is concerned with relationships between individuals and their environments.

Bowlby's Biological Attachment Theory

The role of biology (of heredity) in determining nonhuman animal behavior is clear. I fully expect my English Setter to be reasonably adept at sniffing out birds precisely because she has the genetic ancestry of all English Setters. We know that many of the behaviors and habits characteristic of animals such as my dog aren't acquired primarily as a function of experience. A moth doesn't fly into a flame because it has learned to do so; dead moths don't fly. We can therefore assume that the attraction light has for a moth, like the overpowering urge of a Canada goose to fly south in the fall or a salmon to swim upriver, is the result of inherited tendencies.

Are we, in at least some ways, like moths and salmon? If so, what are our flames, our rivers? Ethologists (scientists whose principal concern is ethology, the study of behavior in natural situations) think that yes, we are a little like moths. And although the flames that entice us might be less obvious than those that attract the moth, they are perhaps no less powerful.

Imprinting and Attachment

Our mothers, says Bowlby, might be one of those flames because, in some ways, we are a little like baby ducks or chickens who almost inevitably imprint on their mothers. Imprinting is the tendency of some newly hatched birds such as geese to follow the first moving object they see. They do this, explains Lorenz (1952), as long as they are exposed to this moving object during a critical period of time. If they are exposed to the same moving object (a releaser) before or after this critical period, imprinting does not ordinarily result (Figure 2.10).

Although the search for imprinted behaviors among humans has not led to the discovery of behaviors as obvious as "following" among geese, some theorists, such as Bowlby (1982), suggest that there are important parallels between the findings of ethologists and the development of attachment between human mothers and their infants. As we see in Chapter 6, Bowlby believed that young infants have a natural (inherited) tendency to form emotional bonds with their mothers or with some other permanent caregiver during what he terms a sensitive period. Such bonds, Bowlby argues, would clearly have been important for an infant's survival in a less civilized age. The need for bonds is evident in an infant's attempts to maintain physical contact, to cling, and to stay in visual contact with the mother. It is evident as well in the effects of separating mother and infant—effects that, in Bowlby's (1979) words, are marked by "emotional distress and personality disturbance, including anxiety, anger, depression, and emotional detachment"

Vygotsky's Ecological Approach

Vygotsky was "the Mozart of psychology," its "child genius" writes Davydov (1995). At the age of 28, (sadly, he died of tuberculosis only 10 years later), he had assimilated all the relevant information then current and he had begun to map out a theory of development that dominated the field in the former Soviet Union for more than 70 years (Thomas, 2005). Two main themes unify this theory: the importance of culture, and the role of language.

The Importance of Culture

We are not like other animals, says Vygotsky. Why? Because we can use symbols and tools; as a result, we create cultures, and a culture has vitality, a life of its own (Vygotsky, 1986). Cultures grow and change and exert a very powerful influence on their members. They determine the end result of competent development—the sorts of things that their members must learn, the ways they should think, the things they are most likely to believe. As Bandura's notion of reciprocal determinism emphasizes, we are not only culture-producing beings, but also culture-produced. This is one of the most fundamental themes underlying the current study of child development.

The importance of culture, explains Vygotsky, is that it allows us to go beyond elementary mental functions, eventually making higher mental functions possible. Elementary functions are our natural, unlearned capacities. They are evident in a newborn's ability to attend to human sounds and to discriminate among them; and they are apparent in the ability to remember the smell of the mother, or in the capacity to goo and gurgle and cry.

Higher mental functions are sophisticated mental functions such as thinking and imagining. These, explained Vygotsky, are not evident in nonhuman animals. They come about in humans as a result of interaction with adults and competent peers—that is, with exposure to a human culture and especially with the learning of powerful symbol systems such as language.

The Role of Language

Language, after all, is what makes thinking possible. Language is not only the basis for human culture, but is essential for consciousness. Thus, during the preverbal stage of development, children's intelligence is much like that of, say, an ape, says Vygotsky (1986). It is purely natural, purely practical—elementary, in other words. But language changes all that. Why? Because language makes human social interaction possible.

Language is a cultural invention. It is one of the most important ways in which cultures influence and shape the course of development. For Vygotsky, development is a function of the interaction between culture and children's basic biological capacities and maturational timetables. But, insisted Vygotsky, it is the environmental context (the culture) that is most important, not biological maturation.

Development (or growth) takes place when environmental opportunities and demands are appropriate for the child. In a sense, culture instructs the child in the ways of development. But the instruction is effective only if the child's biological maturation and current developmental level are sufficiently advanced. For every child, says Vygotsky, there is a zone of proximal development—a sort of potential for development. This zone of development spans what the child can do alone and what might be accomplished with the help and guidance of others. Davydov (1995) explains the concept as follows: "What the child is initially able to do only together with adults and peers and then can do independently, lies exactly in the zone of proximal development" (p. 18).

The challenge is to present children with tasks that lie within this zone, and then to provide them with the help they need to accomplish the tasks successfully. Demands that are beyond children's capacities—that are beyond their zone of proximal development—are ineffective in promoting growth. Similarly, demands that are too simple are wasteful. Thus, one of the important techniques for teachers and parents is what is labeled scaffolding—providing support by initially limiting the complexities of a task and then progressively increasing demands as children's competence increases.

There are a tremendous number of different types of scaffolds—of supports, in other words— that teachers can build for learners. For example, Pentimonti and Justice (2010) describe how preschool teachers use scaffolds such as generalizing, reasoning, predicting, cooperating, and reducing choices. Other scaffolds include demonstrating how to do things, explaining procedures, providing models, systematically developing prerequisite skills, correcting errors, and asking questions that lead to important realizations.

Bronfenbrenner's Ecological Theory

The importance of cultures and of changing social environments is the central theme of an important map presented by Bronfenbrenner (1979, 1989, 1998a, 1998b). The emphasis in his theory is on understanding development as the product of interactions between the person and the environment. Hence Bronfenbrenner's model has three components: the individual, the context in which behavior occurs, and the processes that account for developmental change. It is, in Bronfenbrenner's words, a process-person-context model, and development is simply the processes through which ". . . properties of the person and the environment interact to produce constancy and change in the characteristics of the person . . ." (p. 191).

One of Bronfenbrenner's most important contributions to our understanding of early childhood development is his description of the various levels of context in which a developing child interacts. Children's environments—the ecological systems in which development occurs—go far beyond the activities and events that affect them directly, Bronfenbrenner insists. Many things happen in the wider community, in the country, perhaps even in the world, that influence development in important ways. One way of looking at the child's ecology, suggests Bronfenbrenner, is to look at the characteristics of the different ecological systems that compose the child's total environment.

The Microsystem

For example, many important interactions occur at an immediate, face-to-face level. These define the microsystem. The complex patterns of behaviors, roles, and relationships within the home, the school, the peer group, and the playground that include the child in actual interactions are all part of the child's microsystem. Everybody in the microsystem influences the child.

The Mesosystem

In turn, microsystems may influence each other in important ways. For example, how Ronald's mother treats him may be influenced by her interactions with his father. Perhaps she is less likely to be gentle and loving with her son if she has just had an argument with her husband. Similarly, how Ronald interacts with his sister, Nan, may reflect how his mother interacts with Nan. Interactions between microsystems that include the developing child define what is meant by the mesosystem.

The Exosystem

The home does not exist in isolation. How parents treat children is influenced by schools, by teachers, perhaps by the church, and by employers and friends. In short, it is influenced by all the relationships that exist between members of a child's microsystems and institutions or individuals with which they interact. For example, interactions between Ronald and his father may be influenced by the father's relationships with his colleagues or his fishing buddies. Interactions between an element of the microsystem that ordinarily includes the developing child and an element of the wider context that does not include the child define the exosystem.

The Macrosystem

All the interactive systems—micro-, meso-, and exo-—that characterize cultures define the macrosystem. Macrosystems are describable in terms of beliefs, values, customary ways of doing things, expected behaviors, social roles, status assignments, lifestyles, religions, and so on, as these are reflected in interactions among systems. In Bronfenbrenner's (1989) words, the macrosystem "may be thought of as a societal blueprint for a particular culture, subculture, or other broader social context" (p. 228).

Chronosystem

All of the ecological systems in which children develop change over time. Chronosystem is the term Bronfenbrenner uses to describe this fact. Many of these important changes will occur in microsystems. They might involve events such as the birth of a sibling, parental divorce, loss or introduction of pets, and so on. Sometimes changes involve wider aspects of the macrosystem. For example, within the last few decades, there have been profound changes in family employment patterns (from one to two wage earners), in family structure (from two- to one-parent families), in child-rearing styles (from home-rearing to other child-care options), in age of marriage (from younger to older), in age of childbearing (also from younger to older), and in range of expected school attendance (from rare and optional to quasi-compulsory kindergarten). Clearly, many of these macrosystem changes over time directly affect the microsystems of which the child is a part—the family, the home, the school. (See Concept Summary: Ecological Systems in Bronfenbrenner's Theory. For an illustration of how contexts are shaped by cultural expectations and beliefs, and of how important they can be in the life of a developing child, see Across Cultures: Goyaalé, An Apache Boy.)

Usefulness of Bronfenbrenner's Ecological Theory

Although most contemporary developmental theorists pay lip service to the importance of taking context, person, and interaction between the two into account, many researchers continue to operate within one of the two models that have dominated much of our thought and research. One model says that the causes of developmental change are to be found primarily within the individual; the other insists that the individual's environment is a more important cause of change. It's the old nature-nurture debate (about which we say more in Chapter 3).

The model that underlies our thinking is tremendously important to our research and our conclusions. One model says that if Johnny turns out to be an unmanageable scoundrel, we should look for the cause and the explanation in his temperament and his personality characteristics; the other says we should look to his environment. But neither of these models says that we should look at how Johnny's characteristics influence his environment, and at how, in turn, his environment influences him. Neither insists that the cause is at least partly to be found in the changing interactions that occur between Johnny and his alcoholic mother, his overworked and indifferent teachers, or his peers (the microsystem). Neither suggests that the animosity between Johnny's father and his kindergarten teacher is of consequence (the mesosystem). Neither is concerned with interactions that might have occurred between Johnny's mother and her employer, leading to a reduction in her pay and increasing her chronic ill humor (the exosystem). Neither asks the researcher to look at how society's encouragement of the changing structure of the family affects Johnny's well-being (the macrosystem and the chronosystem). That neither model asks these questions is a weakness of some of our traditional approaches to understanding child development; that Bronfenbrenner's ecological systems theory does is among its strengths.

2.6 Dynamic Systems Theory

Ecological theory is an example of what von Bertalanffy (1950) calls open systems theory (also called general systems theory). An open system is one that depends on interactions—on activity. It is a system that is continually affected by its context and by the changing interactions that occur in that context. Such a system is termed an open system because its identifying feature is its openness to change. It is a dynamic (changing) rather than static system. Activity and outcomes in an open system are highly variable. In contrast, closed systems are based on activities within the system; outcomes in such systems are highly predictable.

Basic Ideas Underlying Dynamic Systems

Human behavior and development, too, is dynamic, insists Esther Thelen (Thelen and Smith, 2006; Smith and Thelen, 2003). Like Bronfenbrenner, Thelen believes that development can only be understood in terms of continuous, mutual interaction among all levels of the developing system. According to this view of children, any change in one aspect of the system—rapid biological growth, for example—leads to disequilibrium and a readjustment in other aspects of the system—social reactions, for instance. The result is a continual process of reorganizing behavior to make it more effective and more appropriate. It is one of the fundamental tenets of a dynamic system that it has to reach a state of disequilibrium—of instability—before there is change and developmental progress.

If we look closely at human behavior, say Smith and Thelen (2003), we see that its main characteristic is its tremendous variability, its dynamism. As they put it, "children from the same family grow up to be amazingly different from one another. Children with social and economic advantages sometimes fail in life, whereas those from impoverished backgrounds sometimes overcome them" (p. 347).

Although the explicit use of dynamic systems theory (or general systems theory) is relatively new in developmental psychology, recognition of the variability of human behavior, of the importance of interaction, and of the role of instability is not at all new. For example, Piaget based much of his theory on the notion that instability (disequilibrium) is one of the great forces that shapes development. And the cornerstone of both Bronfenbrenner's and Vygotsky's theories is their recognition of the importance of the individual's interactions within changing social environments, and their emphasis on the variability of human experiences as well as of developmental outcomes. But recognizing the complexity of development is not the same thing as analyzing it. As Fischer and Bidell (1998) put it, "Dazzled by all this complexity, scientists often retreat into oversimplification and stereotyping" (p. 468).

Dynamic systems approaches are complex approaches, often based on advanced mathematical models and predictions. But the two core ideas on which they are founded are simple (Thelen & Smith, 2006):

Development can only be understood in terms of multiple, continuous, and mutual interactions of all levels of the developing system;

Development can only be understood as a product of processes that unfold over periods of time that can range from milliseconds to many years.

Implications of Dynamic Systems Theory

As an illustration of the application of dynamic systems theory, Thelen (2005) describes how it might be used to understand something as apparently simple as an infant learning to reach. According to dynamic systems theory, this activity does not simply depend on the brain putting into action some sort of "reaching" program that sends out messages to the various muscles involved. Among other things, the infant needs to develop the motivation to reach for the object. And the motivation, or desire, to do so needs to be coordinated with the infant's perception of the object, with certain cognitions related to it, and with the necessary motor activities. Thus development can only be understood in terms of multiple interactions of all related systems.

But learning to reach might be an event that occurs over a very short period of time, explains Thelen (2005), much as the infant learning to take the first steps might occur within a single day. Yet these are events that have implications for developmental change over very long periods of time. Hence Thelen's interest in dynamic interactions that span milliseconds as well as days, months, and years.

Although dynamic systems theory presents a new way of looking at development, it readily accepts that knowledge of child development needs to build on the theories of those who have come earlier. "We must not scuttle the past masters—Freud, Piaget, Erikson, Bowlby—who were likely wrong in some of the details and perhaps in some of their assumptions," writes Thelen (2005). "Rather, we must use as models their bold visions to probe deeply into the mystery and complexities of human development and to articulate general principles that give meaning to so many details" (p. 256).

Dynamic systems theories, notes Thomas (2005), emphasize changes within interacting components of a system. They recognize that physical, emotional, social, and intellectual growth are linked in complex ways, that changes in functioning in one area can have profound effects on functioning in other areas. They agree, as well, that the human organism carries its own sources of motivation and energy; it doesn't simply respond to external forces. Dynamic systems theories introduce new metaphors for human development. These metaphors replace machine models that see humans as highly reactive to external forces. They also replace metaphors that view development as a series of steps or stages, or perhaps as a mountain to climb (and then to tumble down?). One of the new metaphors proposed by Thelen (2005) compares development to the patterns of water flow in a mountain stream, with its constantly changing eddies and whirlpools, its currents, and its riffles, its responsiveness to storms and droughts and melting snows and winds and maurauding bears, and geological changes over many eons.

It is a complex—and wonderful—thing to understand the patterns of water movement in a stream; so too, is it complex—and wonderful—to understand the interwoven patterns of change that mark children's journeys.

2.7 A Humanistic Approach: Abraham Maslow

Had I spoken of Piaget or Freud, of Skinner or Bandura, of biology or ecology or dynamic systems in my grandmother's kitchen, the old lady would have listened politely. But in the end she would probably have said, "That's all very nice, but it's just theory. What about Frank?" Why Frank? Simply because he was a unique child. And although there is little doubt that Freud, Skinner, and Piaget might each have had something very intelligent and even useful to say about Frank, they would have been hard-pressed to convince my grandmother that they knew more about him than she did. My grandmother was a humanist.

In a sense, humanistic psychologists would have us throw away all our detailed maps and simply follow the child's rambling. Their concern is with the entire, unique individual. One of the basic beliefs of the humanistic orientation is that, as deRobertis (2011) put it, "a child is never looked upon as the mere sum of diverse interacting parts" (p. 6). Our theories need to be holistic, the humanists insist: They need to be concerned with the whole child. This means taking into account all the systems with which the child interacts (Bronfenbrenner's micro-, meso-, exo-, and macro- systems).

But it is difficult to describe these systems in a truly meaningful way because what constitutes the important features of the environment is different for every child. Accordingly, humanism emphasizes the importance of each person's view of the world and of themselves. To understand the behavior of children, this view says, we need to perceive the world as they see it—from the perspective of their knowledge, their experiences, and their goals and aspirations (deRobertis, 2008). This orientation underscores that the individual is unique rather than average.

Maslow presents a well-known, intriguing humanistic theory. Its relevance to child development is twofold: It describes what motivates the child's development; and it speculates about what the end goal of development is. These are dramatic departures from other theories we have discussed.

Maslow's Humanistic Need Theory

The child is moved by two systems of needs, Maslow (1970) informs us. The basic needs are physiological (food, drink) and psychological (security, love, esteem). These needs are deficiency needs because when they are not satisfied, the child needs to fill a deficiency. For example, hunger represents a deficiency that can be satisfied by eating.

The metaneeds are higher-level growth needs: Activities that relate to them don't fulfill a lack but instead lead to growth. Metaneeds show themselves in the desire to know, in appreciation of truth and beauty, and in a tendency toward growth and fulfillment—or, in Maslow's terms, a tendency toward self-actualization.

Our needs are hierarchically arranged, says Maslow, in the sense that the metaneeds will not be attended to unless the basic needs have been reasonably well satisfied. That is, we pay attention to beauty, truth, and the development of our potential when we are no longer hungry and unloved

Self-Actualization

The most important of Maslow's metaneeds is self-actualization—a not entirely clear concept. Even Maslow (1970) admitted that the concept is difficult and that finding examples of self-actualized people seemed nearly impossible.

Self-actualization is most often viewed as a process rather than a state. It is a process of growth, of becoming, of fulfillment. Because it is a process, suggests Rowan (1998), the triangle that has typically been used to illustrate the hierarchy of needs is misleading because it suggests that there is an end point—a goal. But we never reach that goal because self-actualization is not an end state but a continuing process.

Maslow (1970) suggests that self-actualization is characterized by absence of "neurosis, psychopathic personality, psychosis, or strong tendencies in these directions" (p. 150). More positively, he claims that self-actualized people "may be loosely described as [making] full use and exploitation of talents, capacities, potentialities, etc." (p. 150). Using this loose definition, Maslow's examination of 3,000 college students revealed only one person he considered to be actualized (although there were several dozen "potentials").

Peak Experiences

In Maslow's writings, the concept of peak experience is an intriguing and important aspect of self-actualization. Peak experiences are profoundly moving experiences that, in many instances, come close to defining what it might be like to be fully actualized. Maslow researched the dimensions of the peak experience by asking 190 college students to describe for him the "most wonderful experience of your life" (1970, p. 67). The resulting composite picture of a peak experience suggests that it is a relatively rare but profoundly moving experience that might have to do with work, human relationships, athletics, nature, mysticism, and so on. Studies with children suggest that they, too, are capable of peak experiences. The most common of these include feelings that accompany being in places of overwhelming beauty, neardeath experiences, crises involving danger or fear, spontaneous moments of euphoria, or even unforgettable dreams (Hoffman, 1998). Peak experiences are often associated with wilderness settings (McDonald, Wearing, & Ponting, 2009).

2.8 A Final Word about Theories

We began this chapter by insisting that facts and theories are not worlds apart in terms of "truthfulness"—that theories are intended to be explanations of facts. From these explanations, scientists strive for understanding, for the ability to predict, and sometimes for control. But theories do more than explain facts. As Thomas (2005) notes, they suggest which facts we should look at. In effect, they map and guide our invention of "facts" and give them meaning. Theories lead us to accept certain things as true—specifically, those things that fit our beliefs and expectations. By the same token, theories also lead us to ignore contradictory or apparently irrelevant observations.

Theories also tend to "normalize" the child. That is, theories give us a picture of what a "normal" or average child is like, and then we compare real children to this sometimes very unreal picture. Also, the pictures that our theories draw for us vary enormously. Thus learning theories give us a picture of a highly malleable, "conditionable" child; Piaget draws a picture of the child as a thinker; Freud shows us the "instinctual" child; Bandura, Vygotsky, Bronfenbrenner, and Thelen describe a child in the midst of dynamic interactions that include the child at the center of other interacting influences; and Maslow emphasizes the uniqueness, wholeness, and potential of each individual child.

Reference

Lefrançois, G. R. (2012).  Children’s journeys: Exploring early childhood  [Electronic version]. Retrieved from https://content.ashford.edu/ (Links to an external site.)Links to an external site.