Wow! How’s that for a morose title for a dead-of-winter commentary? I could blame it on a fascinating article by Paul Tullis in the November-December 2011 Scientific American Mind entitled “The Death of Pre-School.” But all that article did was cause me to organize my thoughts regarding similar changes in young animal education/training that I’ve been pondering for years. Ironically as the amount of research into the positive physical, mental, and emotional benefits of play for young children and animals of all species has increased, there’s been increased pressure to impose structured training on kids and domestic animals at a younger age.
Why does all work and no play make Jack and Jill dull academically as well as socially and undermine their chance for future success and happiness? And what does this have to do with animals anyhow?
Let’s start with a hypothetical situation. Imagine you’re an animal parent who wants to teach your offspring everything they need to know to survive, even without you. You might think, “First, I’ll make a list of all the important facts they need to know. Then I’ll teach them that information and test them on it until they know it inside out and backwards. When they master that, I’ll come up with another, more difficult list and drill them in that.”
Or you might think, “I already know they like to play ‘grown-up’ and mimic what I do, so I’ll try to be on my best behavior around them so they can learn basic skills like self-control, patience, confidence, and problem-solving. And I’ll let them play in the environment where I’m working so they pick up all the physical, mental, and emotional skills that are so familiar to me that I don’t even think about them. I’ll also let them explore our secure environment and find ways to amuse themselves and each other.”
A study conducted by developmental psychologist Laura Schultz at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology demonstrates the different results produced by these two different strategies. She and her colleagues gave two groups of young children a toy that emitted squeaks among other features. They showed one group how to make the toy squeak, and gave the toy to those in the second group without any instructions. When they checked in on the two groups later, those who had been shown how to make the toy squeak could make it squeak, but that’s all they could do with it. Those who had been given no instructions figured out how to make the toy squeak and do a lot of other things too. The conclusion? Direct instruction in young children inhibits natural curiosity and their ability to learn.
Consider a comparable situation in dogs. We can get balls for our puppies and teach/drill them on the game of fetch. Or we can introduce the ball by gently bouncing and/or rolling it in their general vicinity and allowing them to figure out what to do with it. I know of no studies comparing these two approaches in dogs, but I can say that the animals I didn’t teach to use a toy a particular way came up with a lot more creative ways of enjoying it than I could have imagined. And that makes perfectly good sense to me because their perception of the world and what constitutes fun is different from mine.
Studies of how kids who run around in circles, climb anything climbable and engage in exaggerated pretend games in which they conquer all kinds of challenges demonstrate how these made up games require a basic knowledge of physics that will serve them well as they get older. This reminded me of the complex mathematical equation (which I’ve been unable to find) that predicted when a dog chasing a stick thrown into the ocean would enter the water to retrieve it in the most energy-efficient way. Or think about puppies and kittens stalking sunbeams and fluttering leaves, struggling to get up and over hassocks with all the determination of Hilary conquering Everest, or leaping vertically then dashing away from an “enemy” toy or bit of wood only to come back and shake or pummel the imaginary foe into submission. And, no, they’re not doing this to learn how to be predators any more than young kids are when the engage in similar games. They’re doing it because it’s fun for them to learn and master new skills all by themselves. Call me anthropomorphic but I’ve seen expressions on animal faces that looked awfully similar to those worn by little kids when they proudly announce, “Look what I did all by myself!”
Given all this data regarding how the human brain evolved to learn, why the shift toward pre-school standards that mandate proficiency in 7academic areas? This reflects a shift in our society to the use of standardized tests to evaluate students and, by extension, teachers. This in spite of the data indicating that this kind of learning isn’t brain-friendly and can lead to academic and other problems later in life for those subjected to it. So why do we do it?
This takes us back to a quality we share with all other species: the desire to get what we want using the least amount of energy. Recall our two examples of parental strategies to teach youngsters what they need to know to survive. When you compare those two approaches, one thing that immediately jumps out is that the one that involves adults acting as quality role models who also provide safe and stimulating play environments requires a lot more hard work than the first one!
But for adult animals whose genetic survival depends on the success of their offspring, it’s worth the time and effort to function as quality role models and supply an environment their offspring can explore and and learn to manipulate as they develop their physical, mental, and emotional skills. Unless adults provide such opportunities, their young are more likely to be eliminated by more fit individuals. If that happens, those adults will lose their entire parental investment as well as possibly be eliminated from the species gene pool. In this case, the benefits of making such a time and energy investment are far greater than the cost.
But for those who lack this magnitude of investment in the young, it’s much easier to impose a one-size-fits-all approach and judge youngsters based on their ability to fulfill it. Because the sooner the youngsters learn what the approach wants them to learn, the less work for those teachers up the line, those in the latter group naturally will want to impose this structure on the young as early as possible. And as soon as a group or society buys into this kind of teaching, it’s easy to sell parents on the idea of teaching those standardized facts earlier—be they the alphabet and state capitols or the proper response to come, sit, and stay. With each successive generation and regardless whether the offspring are our children or our animals, the desire to start teaching/training asap seems perfectly normal and even natural because that’s the system those adults were subjected to themselves.
But while test scores can be quickly entered into computer data bases, individual youngsters cannot. So what might be the expected result of this trend? I’d expect to see more individuals diagnosed with behavioral problems and learning disabilities. I’d expect to see more individuals who know how to give the right answer, but fewer who know how to think. If we don’t believe that animals are capable of thought, then that wouldn’t matter. But if we wind up with one of those animals with problems who does think, that might be a different story.
One of my favorite examples of how animals naturally learn and use play is described in a speech given by Cathy Curby, a biologist and Wildlife Interpretive Specialist at the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge. She was fortunate enough to observe the interaction between an alpha female wolf, a younger wolf Curby called the “babysitter” and the alpha’s litter of young pups who were hungry and separated from their mom. The babysitter’s mission was clear: Bring the pups to their mom, just the kind of task an experienced parent might use to teach a pre-teen or teenager valuable parental skills. And just like those inexperienced teens, the inexperienced wolf initially makes some mistakes because he/she opts for the easiest approach. But the pups make it clear that what’s easiest for the babysitter isn’t necessarily the easiest for them, and the babysitter must become more creative.
Do the alpha and the babysitter discuss the babysitter’s options? Does the babysitter consciously think about what kinds of activities most readily engage youngsters, recall his/her own puppyhood, and decide to try play? I’d no sooner venture an opinion on that than Ms. Curby. But I will say that the display the babysitter uses to engage the pups looks remarkably like a domestic dog play bow, and the pups’ response is remarkably similar to that of young domestic dogs accepting an invitation to play. In this example then, we also see a second reward of a natural system that allows youngsters to learn via play: young adults willing to invest the time and energy to enable another generation of young to learn this same beneficial way.
Sometimes it’s so easy to evaluate animal teaching methods in terms of what’s easy and fun for us. But as you read how the babysitter uses play, it’s difficult to ignore how very hard he or she must work to create playful experiences that will enable the pups to learn something crucial to their survival. It wasn’t enough that the pups got across some rough terrain; they needed to learn to do it themselves.
So perhaps what it boils down to with our companion animals is what kind of investment we’re willing to make. The one that makes it easiest for us to teach? Or the one that makes it easiest for them to learn?
If you have any comments regarding subject matter, favorite links, or anything you’d like to see discussed on or added to this site, please let me know at mm@mmilani.com.
Wow! How’s that for a morose title for a dead-of-winter commentary? I could blame it on a fascinating article by Paul Tullis in the November-December 2011 Scientific American Mind entitled “The Death of Pre-School.” But all that article did was cause me to organize my thoughts regarding similar changes in young animal education/training that I’ve been pondering for years. Ironically as the amount of research into the positive physical, mental, and emotional benefits of play for young children and animals of all species has increased, there’s been increased pressure to impose structured training on kids and domestic animals at a younger age.
Why does all work and no play make Jack and Jill dull academically as well as socially and undermine their chance for future success and happiness? And what does this have to do with animals anyhow?
Let’s start with a hypothetical situation. Imagine you’re an animal parent who wants to teach your offspring everything they need to know to survive, even without you. You might think, “First, I’ll make a list of all the important facts they need to know. Then I’ll teach them that information and test them on it until they know it inside out and backwards. When they master that, I’ll come up with another, more difficult list and drill them in that.”
Or you might think, “I already know they like to play ‘grown-up’ and mimic what I do, so I’ll try to be on my best behavior around them so they can learn basic skills like self-control, patience, confidence, and problem-solving. And I’ll let them play in the environment where I’m working so they pick up all the physical, mental, and emotional skills that are so familiar to me that I don’t even think about them. I’ll also let them explore our secure environment and find ways to amuse themselves and each other.”
A study conducted by developmental psychologist Laura Schultz at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology demonstrates the different results produced by these two different strategies. She and her colleagues gave two groups of young children a toy that emitted squeaks among other features. They showed one group how to make the toy squeak, and gave the toy to those in the second group without any instructions. When they checked in on the two groups later, those who had been shown how to make the toy squeak could make it squeak, but that’s all they could do with it. Those who had been given no instructions figured out how to make the toy squeak and do a lot of other things too. The conclusion? Direct instruction in young children inhibits natural curiosity and their ability to learn.
Consider a comparable situation in dogs. We can get balls for our puppies and teach/drill them on the game of fetch. Or we can introduce the ball by gently bouncing and/or rolling it in their general vicinity and allowing them to figure out what to do with it. I know of no studies comparing these two approaches in dogs, but I can say that the animals I didn’t teach to use a toy a particular way came up with a lot more creative ways of enjoying it than I could have imagined. And that makes perfectly good sense to me because their perception of the world and what constitutes fun is different from mine.
Studies of how kids who run around in circles, climb anything climbable and engage in exaggerated pretend games in which they conquer all kinds of challenges demonstrate how these made up games require a basic knowledge of physics that will serve them well as they get older. This reminded me of the complex mathematical equation (which I’ve been unable to find) that predicted when a dog chasing a stick thrown into the ocean would enter the water to retrieve it in the most energy-efficient way. Or think about puppies and kittens stalking sunbeams and fluttering leaves, struggling to get up and over hassocks with all the determination of Hilary conquering Everest, or leaping vertically then dashing away from an “enemy” toy or bit of wood only to come back and shake or pummel the imaginary foe into submission. And, no, they’re not doing this to learn how to be predators any more than young kids are when the engage in similar games. They’re doing it because it’s fun for them to learn and master new skills all by themselves. Call me anthropomorphic but I’ve seen expressions on animal faces that looked awfully similar to those worn by little kids when they proudly announce, “Look what I did all by myself!”
Given all this data regarding how the human brain evolved to learn, why the shift toward pre-school standards that mandate proficiency in 7academic areas? This reflects a shift in our society to the use of standardized tests to evaluate students and, by extension, teachers. This in spite of the data indicating that this kind of learning isn’t brain-friendly and can lead to academic and other problems later in life for those subjected to it. So why do we do it?
This takes us back to a quality we share with all other species: the desire to get what we want using the least amount of energy. Recall our two examples of parental strategies to teach youngsters what they need to know to survive. When you compare those two approaches, one thing that immediately jumps out is that the one that involves adults acting as quality role models who also provide safe and stimulating play environments requires a lot more hard work than the first one!
But for adult animals whose genetic survival depends on the success of their offspring, it’s worth the time and effort to function as quality role models and supply an environment their offspring can explore and and learn to manipulate as they develop their physical, mental, and emotional skills. Unless adults provide such opportunities, their young are more likely to be eliminated by more fit individuals. If that happens, those adults will lose their entire parental investment as well as possibly be eliminated from the species gene pool. In this case, the benefits of making such a time and energy investment are far greater than the cost.
But for those who lack this magnitude of investment in the young, it’s much easier to impose a one-size-fits-all approach and judge youngsters based on their ability to fulfill it. Because the sooner the youngsters learn what the approach wants them to learn, the less work for those teachers up the line, those in the latter group naturally will want to impose this structure on the young as early as possible. And as soon as a group or society buys into this kind of teaching, it’s easy to sell parents on the idea of teaching those standardized facts earlier—be they the alphabet and state capitols or the proper response to come, sit, and stay. With each successive generation and regardless whether the offspring are our children or our animals, the desire to start teaching/training asap seems perfectly normal and even natural because that’s the system those adults were subjected to themselves.
But while test scores can be quickly entered into computer data bases, individual youngsters cannot. So what might be the expected result of this trend? I’d expect to see more individuals diagnosed with behavioral problems and learning disabilities. I’d expect to see more individuals who know how to give the right answer, but fewer who know how to think. If we don’t believe that animals are capable of thought, then that wouldn’t matter. But if we wind up with one of those animals with problems who does think, that might be a different story.
One of my favorite examples of how animals naturally learn and use play is described in a speech given by Cathy Curby, a biologist and Wildlife Interpretive Specialist at the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge. She was fortunate enough to observe the interaction between an alpha female wolf, a younger wolf Curby called the “babysitter” and the alpha’s litter of young pups who were hungry and separated from their mom. The babysitter’s mission was clear: Bring the pups to their mom, just the kind of task an experienced parent might use to teach a pre-teen or teenager valuable parental skills. And just like those inexperienced teens, the inexperienced wolf initially makes some mistakes because he/she opts for the easiest approach. But the pups make it clear that what’s easiest for the babysitter isn’t necessarily the easiest for them, and the babysitter must become more creative.
Do the alpha and the babysitter discuss the babysitter’s options? Does the babysitter consciously think about what kinds of activities most readily engage youngsters, recall his/her own puppyhood, and decide to try play? I’d no sooner venture an opinion on that than Ms. Curby. But I will say that the display the babysitter uses to engage the pups looks remarkably like a domestic dog play bow, and the pups’ response is remarkably similar to that of young domestic dogs accepting an invitation to play. In this example then, we also see a second reward of a natural system that allows youngsters to learn via play: young adults willing to invest the time and energy to enable another generation of young to learn this same beneficial way.
Sometimes it’s so easy to evaluate animal teaching methods in terms of what’s easy and fun for us. But as you read how the babysitter uses play, it’s difficult to ignore how very hard he or she must work to create playful experiences that will enable the pups to learn something crucial to their survival. It wasn’t enough that the pups got across some rough terrain; they needed to learn to do it themselves.
So perhaps what it boils down to with our companion animals is what kind of investment we’re willing to make. The one that makes it easiest for us to teach? Or the one that makes it easiest for them to learn?
If you have any comments regarding subject matter, favorite links, or anything you’d like to see discussed on or added to this site, please let me know at mm@mmilani.com.