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Showing posts with label Child Development. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Child Development. Show all posts

Monday, 19 August 2013

A just world


Make sure you get the pieces the same size.
Photo: Klipy Design
‘Daaaaaaad! You let Sam on the computer. IT’S NOT FAIR!’

So goes the soundtrack to the summer holidays. Rather than scrambling to put dinner on the table, get in the washing and manage my job (in half the usual time and without the aid of school) my top priority is to ensure parity between my children. How could I have possibly forgotten? There shouldn’t be a cigarette paper of difference in terms of equality; activities must be balanced for treat-magnitude with the judgement of Solomon. Other than of course the finely calibrated extra privileges that accrue to the my older one as a result of seniority and long service. Long service, you understand, consists of having been demanding for longer and it all counts in the great ledger that I clearly failed to check.

The importance of fairness seems to trump all other considerations, including self-interest. Give Child 1 £1 and she’ll be happy. But if she finds out Child 2 has £1.50 she’ll be angry. Take the money away from both and she’ll be satisfied. Child 1 has lost out but Child 2 has lost more so all’s right with the world. In my frazzled state it can feel like my kids are simply brats who live to make my life difficult. A more considered look at the evidence however tells a different story. Other people’s kids do the same. Always a relief. In fact research suggests that, though they may be more obvious about it, it’s not just children who have a profound (and sometimes self-injurious) aversion to unfairness. Behavioural economists Fehr and Schmidt (1999) have gone as far as to suggest that ‘willingness to sacrifice potential gain to block another individual from receiving a superior reward’ is basic to the human condition.

Thursday, 1 August 2013

The real trouble with magic


A magical sidekick for parents?
Picture: Izabella at deviantart.com
“Mummy, am I fat?” says my daughter, all of seven, regarding herself in the bath. She doesn’t know it yet but body fascism is my wife’s darkest fear. The thought of a little girl worrying about weight evokes a response like that of a vampire facing a crucifix or Lady Gaga being asked to wear a twinset.

“No darling you’re not, and it’s a silly thing to worry about”, my wife replies with admirable (though bogus) insouciance. After a couple of minutes of intense debate the crisis is over and worries about the Messages Kids Get Today are, at least temporarily, averted.

“You promise you’re telling me the total, absolute truth Mum?”

“Of course sweetheart. I’ll never lie to you when you ask me for the truth. Cross my heart and soak my sleeve in this bubble bath”.

I slip out of the room, failing to hear the scream of a gigantic hostage to fortune being abducted right beside me.

Halfway down the stairs the other shoe drops.