Well, there are some extra needs (luckily very cheap to provide) which go beyond the ‘basics’ mentioned. These mysterious needs are essential, not only to make happy children but to maintain life itself. Perhaps I can explain best by telling a story.
In 1945, the Second World War ended and Europe lay in ruins. Among the many human problems to be tackled was that of caring for the thousands of orphans whose parents had either been killed or permanently separated from them by the war.
The Swiss, who had managed to stay out of the war itself, sent their health workers out to begin tackling some of these problems; one man, a doctor, was given the job of researching how to best care for the orphan babies.
He travelled about Europe and visited many kinds of orphan-care situations, to see what was the most successful type of care. He saw many extremes. In some places, American field hospitals had been set up and the babies were snug in stainless steel cots, in hygienic wards, getting their four-hourly feeds of special milk formula from crisply uniformed nurses.
At the other end of the scale, in remote mountain villages, a truck had simply pulled up, the driver had asked, ‘Can you look after these babies?’ and left half-a-dozen crying infants in the care of the villagers. Here, surrounded by kids, dogs, goats, in the arms of the village women, the babies took their chances on goat’s milk and the communal stewpot.
The Swiss doctor had a simple way of comparing the different forms of care. No need even to weigh the babies, far less measure co-ordination or look for smiling and eye contact. In those days of influenza and dysentery, he used the simplest of all statistics – the death rate.
And what he discovered was rather a surprise…as epidemics raged through Europe and many people were dying, the children in the rough villages were thriving better than their scientifically-cared-for counterparts in the hospitals!
The doctor had discovered something that old wives had known for a long time but no one had really listened. He had discovered that babies need love to live.
The infants in the field hospital had everything but affection and stimulation. The babies in the villages had more hugs, bounces and things to see than they knew what to do with and, given reasonable basic care, were thriving.
Of course, the doctor didn’t use the word ‘love’ (words like that upset scientists) but he spelt it out clearly enough. What was important, he said, was:
• skin-to-skin contact frequently, and from two or three special people;
• movement of a gentle but robust kind, such as carrying around, bouncing on a knee, and so on
• eye contact, smiling, and a colourful, lively environment; sounds such as singing, talking, goo-gooing, and so on.
It was an important discovery, and the first time that it had been stated in writing. Babies need human contact and affection (and not just to be fed, warmed and cleaned). If they are not given this, they may easily die.
So much for babies. But what about older children?
Here is an interesting thing – on page 32 is a graph of my estimate of the amount of touching (that’s right, physical touching) that people receive as their lives unfold.
Remember, this is the average situation. Who knows what is the ideal – perhaps a line straight across. You may be wondering about the dip at about two to three years of age. That’s when child number two (or three or four) usually comes along and affection has to be shared – a rough time for everyone!
Little babies like to be touched and cuddled. So do small children, although they are choosier about who does the cuddling. Teenagers often get awkward about it, but will admit in trust that they like affection as much as anyone. And, of course, by late teens they are pursuing specialised forms of affection with great energy!
I once asked an audience of about 60 adults to close their eyes and raise their hands if they got less affection than they would like to get in daily life. It was unanimous – every hand went up. After a minute the peeping began and the room began to ring with laughter. From this careful scientific study, I conclude that adults need affection, too.
Apart from physical touch, we find other ways to get good feelings from people. The most obvious one is by using words.
We need to be recognised, noticed and, preferably, given sincere praise. We want to be included in conversations, have our ideas listened to and even admired.
A three-year-old says it out straight: ‘Hey, look at me.’
Many rich people take little pleasure in their bank balance unless it can be displayed and someone is there to notice.
I am sometimes reduced to stitches by the realisation that most of the adult world is made up of three-year-olds running about shouting, ‘Look at me, Daddy’, ‘Watch me, you guys’. Not me, of course – I give lectures and write books out of mature adult concern.
So, an interesting picture emerges. We take care of our children’s bodily needs but, if this is all we do, they still miss out. They have psychological needs, too, and these are simple but essential. A child needs stimulation, of a human kind. He must have a diet of talking each day, with some affection and praise added in, in order to be happy. If this is given fully, and not begrudgingly from behind a pile of ironing or a newspaper, then it will not even take very long!
Many people reading this will already have older children, or teenagers. You may be thinking, ‘But already they have learned some bad ways of getting attention. How can I deal with that?’
Here is another story.
‘Of mice and men’
A few years ago, psychologists went about in white coats and worked mostly with rats. (Nowadays they wear sports coats and work mostly with housewives – things are looking up!) The ‘rat psychologists’ were able to learn a lot about behaviour because they could do things with rats that they couldn’t do with children. Read on, and you’ll see what I mean.
In this particular experiment, rats were placed in a special cage, with food and drink, and a little lever. They ate, drank and ran about, and eventually asked themselves the same question you are asking: ‘What’s the lever for?’ They pressed it (being like children, they wanted to try everything) and, to their surprise, a little window opened in the cage to reveal a film being shown on the wall outside. The window soon closed and the rat had to press the lever again to get more of the movie.
TALKING IS BRAIN-FOOD FOR KIDS…
By the time they reach school age, some kids can talk very well and have a wide vocabulary. Some on the other hand are very limited in their verbal skills. This can be a real disadvantage – for one thing, teachers often use talking skills as an indicator of intelligence and ability, and so your kids can be either deliberately, or unconsciously, labelled as ‘slow’. How can you help your kids to be good with words – not little Einsteins, but able to speak up for themselves? Here’s how…
