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Child-Animal
Interaction: Nonverbal Dimensions
Olin
Eugene Myers, Jr.
Western Washington University
Examples
of child-animal interactions from a year-long ethnographic
study of preschoolers are examined in terms of their basic
nonverbal processes and features. The contingency of interactions,
the nonhuman animal's body, its patterns of arousal, and the
history of child-animal interactions played important roles
in determining the course of interactions. Also, the children
flexibly accommodated their interactive capacities to the
differences in these features which the animals presented.
Corresponding to these observable features of interaction,
we argue that children respond to variations in animals' agency,
coherence, affectivity, and continuity. Recent research shows
infants also respond to these dimensions in interactants.
We review recent work on the possible developmental roots
of sensitivity to these dimensions. The implications are that
for the young child, animals are social others that present
intrinsically engaging degrees of discrepancy from human social
others; and that the child's sense of self takes shape in
the available interspecies community. Interacting with animals
may be more primary than human-centered factors (such as cultural
meanings, anthropomorphism, social facilitation, or psychodynamic
processes) in the child's experience and developing understanding
of self and animal other. Our findings show an interactive
source of the meaningfulness of animate action which is possibly
more primary than anthropomorphism, cultural meanings, and
other factors. Implications for the theories of social development
are discussed.
Studies
of pets as dependent and independent variables relative to other
factors have revealed important contributions of nonhuman animals
to children's lives, and to the development of attitudes toward
animals. As yet, however, there have been only a few careful
descriptions of child-animal interactions, particularly studies
that encompass a full range of human interactive domains and
include a phylogenetic sampling of non-pet species (Margadant-van
Arcken, 1984, 1989; Nielson and Delude, 1989). Knowledge about
this topic would augment findings about the effects of involvement
with animals since it would delineate factors intrinsic to the
child-animal dyad across a variety of other species. Without
this, explanations of such outcomes may overestimate the influence
of extrinsic factors. There are also broader reasons to explore
the topic as well. It could provide a starting point for a developmental
understanding of human-animal relations and their continuities
and discontinuities. Further, the characteristics of interactions
with animals are one point for triangulating the subjective
meanings of animals to children and others. And finally, since
animals vary in ways that are relevant to social interaction,
study of child-animal interactions is an important source of
information on the child's social development generally.
This
paper takes one step toward these ends by looking at nonverbal
aspects of child-animal interactions. We will analyze the dimensions
of interactions evident in sequences of motion, qualities of
bodies, patterns over time, and so on. Thus, just as various
kinds of human-human interactions are probed to understand their
parameters, child-animal interactions can be considered as a
particular class of interactions. What processes are most salient
in this class, as judged by the dimensions of interactions to
which children respond in particular cases? This case-focus
allows contextual information to be brought to bear on the testing
of differing complex hypotheses about what these processes are.
By defining
our subject as interactions between two or more partners, we
allow the possibility that child and animal may both actively
participate. Indeed, the features which we find characterize
moves and responses in these interactions mark them as essentially
social interactions. But the standard explanations we will consider
generally discount the animal's role and the child's sensitivity
to it. This is consistent with understandings of human-animal
interaction deriving from social sciences which assume the constitutive
role of some form of human agency.
Certainly,
for a variety of reasons, children may so completely "construct"
the animal other as to override what appear to be its contributions
to interactions. This kind of interpretation would agree with
studies which emphasizes cultural and historical variability
in the meanings of animals. Unavoidably, we do approach animals
from our standpoint as humans. But if this is the exclusive
explanation, it begs the question of the contribution of direct
interaction with animals; of how roughshod or subtle our human
capacities are when applied to animals; and of whether some
human interactive capacities are shared or at least applicable
across species. Are the processes governing interactions primarily
instances of psychodynamic conflicts or projection, anthropomorphic
cognitive models, culturally-conveyed meanings, or facilitation
of human interaction--the prevalent theories? The effort here
is to test these models more directly by examining interactions
in detail; the results may also have implications for the psychological
meanings of animals not derived from immediate contact. To anticipate,
contrary to the above models, we find that interactive features
do matter. Children are born with interactive capacities which
are called into play by key features of social others. Many
animals display these features and thus are perceived as social
others. But this variation or discrepancy appears often to be
of a moderate magnitude, such that the young child can accomodate
his or her moves in interactions to the specific nature of these
hallmarks across varying animals. Animals, like stimuli of other
types which possess this quality of "optimal discrepancy," are
thus expected to be the focus of keen interest and social developmental
gains for young children.
In the
text below we identify these hallmarks as basic dimensions of
child-animal interactions. They are noticeable when we focus
on 1) contingency of initiation and response in interactions;
2) how children respond to the bodily shapes of animals; 3)
how variations in an animal's arousal and mood determine children's
responses; and 4) the significance of a history of interactions
with an individual animal. In our discussion, we argue that
the capacities involved arise early in development, and continue
into the early childhood years and probably after. The findings
have implications for social development, and for our understanding
of the roles of mind and body in culture and cognition. They
also demonstrate the unique importance of animal studies.
Method
The findings
reported here come from a larger study, a year-long ethnographic
study of a nursery school classroom affiliated with a university
in a Midwestern city (Myers, 1994). The room was inhabited by
25 children between the ages of 3.5 to 6.0 years, their teacher,
two assistant teachers, and some animals. Resident animals included
a toad, a guinea pig, and two doves. In addition, two turtles,
two snakes, a dog, two ferrets, two tarantulas and a monkey
were brought to class on separate one-time occasions: under
supervision children were given opportunities to observe and
interact with them, and to ask and answer questions. With the
teacher's permission, I began an initial period of observation
and field-entry (Rizzo, Corsaro, and Bates 1992), visiting the
classroom for most of every school day from the second week
of school. Adhering to ethical standards for research with children,
I sought and received the school's and all parents' permission
for interviewing and taping the children; later, permission
for video-taping was obtained. Additionally, each activity I
undertook was first explained to each child; I gave each the
opportunity to choose whether and when to do it. My activities
included ad hoc and focal-child observations, engaging in minor
helping roles, joint play sessions and semi-structured interviews,
collecting children's stories, parental questionnaires and journals,
discussions with the teacher about the lives and experiences
of individual children, and videotaping sessions with the visiting
animals mentioned above. All this material, including items
relevant to the influences of myself and others on the observed
events, was used to construct and test elements of an analytical
framework. Some results of the study pertain to intersubjective
and verbal dimensions of interactions, but the focus in this
paper is on nonverbal aspects such as initiations, responses,
sequences of moves, and other observable features, plus some
revealing utterances by the children. (This focus on the nonverbal
does not reflect the assumption that it is independent of other
domains; indeed relations between domains are crucial. Rather,
this choice was made to limit the range of considerations presented
in a short space to those found to be most central.)
The
Organization of Child-Animal Interactions
Interactions
Move-By-Move: Contingency and the Animal's Agency
One morning
the class was visited by a 7-inch-long box turtle and its owner.
The owner introduced the whole class to the animal and then
spent ten minutes with groups of four children. The following
narrative comes from videotape of one such group:
The
turtle starts walking toward Billy. He gets up and goes behind
Ivy, then moves to one side as the turtle approaches Ivy,
who moves away backwards. Ivy: "Oh oh, he's coming at me."
Mr. Lloyd (the owner) and Benson talk about dropping the turtle.
Mr. Lloyd tells Benson that turtles' shells could break if
dropped. The turtle moves toward Ivy, who retreats, scooting
backwards. Sam moves up for a better view, reaches for the
turtle, and turns him toward Billy, who pulls back even farther.
Benson turns him also. Ivy moves so as to be in front of the
turtle. Benson turns him again to point him to Mr. Lloyd.
Billy gets up and moves away entirely. Ivy moves in front
of the turtle and looks at him from close to the floor. Benson
turns him again. He faces Ivy.
Aside
from Ivy's comment about the turtle's action and an exchange
between Benson and Mr. Lloyd, this 35-second observation is
dominated by nonverbal activity. It contains two patterns of
moves which were very common. We can view these patterns objectively
as series of moves. In the first pattern, the child retreated
as the animal approached him or her (in at least one instance
above, a child also approached the turtle). In the second, the
child interrupted the animal's activity and physically lifted
and/or turned the animal, which then moved itself again. In
the first case, the animal's action came first, initiating the
series where the next move was the child's response. In the
second, the child's move was first. In both cases the interaction
is complementary (Hinde, 1976); that is, an action by one organism
elicited a different but linked action by the other.
Complementarity
is a form of contingency; specifically, responses are contingent
on, but do not resemble, actions of the partner. (Cases of reciprocal
contingent actions, characterized by resemblance, have special
relevance for inferences about intersubjectivity, but are not
considered here.) In the two types of cases above it is clear
that children experience this contingency from the positions
of both initiators and responders with animals. The children's
apparent anxiety when the animal approached them, and the brevity
of their contact with the turtle when turning him, suggest that
they regarded his actions as only moderately contingent, but
significant--that is, as unpredictable but consequential. These
same crisp behavioral buffers in space or time which children
created around the turtle's possible actions, however, were
themselves quite predictable (see Shapiro's [1989] description
of the reading of partners' potential bodily moves). From these
characteristics of interaction with the animal we infer that
children experienced the turtle as possessing agency ,
an underpinning of the "meaningfulness" of animals' actions.
In almost all interactions with animals, children regard them
as agentic.
A transcript
such as the above provides little talk from which to adduce
children's beliefs about the specific meanings of animals' actions.
One could argue, however, that the pattern of moving away from
the turtle was a response to adult instructions. Mr. Lloyd had
reminded them to be gentle, but he said little to make them
fearful--in fact three times he had reassured them that this
turtle would not biteindeed, he lived in their home, and was
not wild. Yet children spontaneously voiced concern that several
of the animals which visited might bite. One reason may be repeated
cautions from parents. But biting is also linked to (or expresses)
the animal's agency. Later in the transcript begun above Ivy
put her face close to the turtle, and soon after touched its
nose with her finger. These actions evince less fear, but each
move was shaped with regard to the animal's agency. The cognitive
knowledge to be careful lest the animal bite is too general
to dictate every subtlety of actual interaction--much of which
must rest on moment-to-moment contingency.
Turning
the turtle could be construed as assimilating him to the category
of inanimate object. But even a much less active animal--such
as a slug--could interrupt this frame, if indeed the children
were imposing it on the interaction. In one example, the teacher
instigated a game of "circus" with tiny slugs in the play-lot,
holding them up by their slime trails. The slugs' activities
were sufficient to shape the children's responses, making them
adjust the height and positions of their hands. Seeing this
depends merely on reversing our habitual human-centered "parsing"
of events (Watzlawick, Beavin, and Jackson, 1967, pp. 54-56)
and acknowledging the difficulty of predicting the animal's
actions in detail.
Another
interpretation would be that a cultural frame governed the interaction,
perhaps one about dangerous animals, or about a popular cartoon
animal. However, when several boys did treat the turtle as if
he were a "Ninja" turtle (using motions and words typical of
child-child play on this theme), the situation looked quite
different:
Billy
moves his fists in a tight circular motion, leaning toward
the turtle. Billy: "Let's cut it up. I got your
turtle, I got the turtle on his back." He reaches around to
show where on his own back. Benson: "Pucchhh!--"he thrusts
his fist toward the turtle twice. Billy: "Bang!--"making a
hitting motion.
Throughout,
the turtle was quiet on the floor, and the boys' motions were
unrelated to his activity. The cultural theme totally overrode
the immediate animate features of the animal. But far more often
it was these features to which children responded. This is not
to say, of course, that the animal stands outside cultural meanings,
nor that agency is unaffected by social forces and definitions.
But for young children the animal's agency is sufficiently primary
that most of the time they take it into account first.
Indeed,
even in the above example, the turtle's status as an agent may
be a precondition for the excitement gained by pretending to
attack it. Agency may be prior not only to cultural scripts
but also to psychodynamic processes. To take an example without
familiar referents in children's culture, some individuals delighted
in chasing common urban animals like pigeons and squirrels.
After such episodes, children occasionally reported, "I made
it fly" or "I scared it." This activity underscores the child's
assertiveness and need for power--motivations often tied to
psychodynamic conflicts. From many perspectives, animals serve
important psychological functions, as in their frequent roles
in pathology and therapy. But the contention here is that they
can only do so because their agentic nature means their responses
confirm the child's own agency. Freud thought animals
symbolized features of the child's intrapsychic conflicts, (1900/1965,
1909/1955). Such meanings do occur, and as often observed, animals'
differences from humans allow comfortable distance. But the
precondition for such meanings is that animals symbolize the
basic properties of animates discussed here, such as agency.
Indeed, "symbol" must mean something new here, as opposed to
the self-referential notions prevalent in psychoanalytic discourse,
or the simple and imposed meanings of some cultural anthropology.
What animals "stand for" are not just externally attributed
qualities, but qualities that they embody as living animates.
Especially, an animal can "symbolize" agency for the child with
the same immediacy and vividness that its agency is apprehended
in the examples of interaction above. The same is true for the
other properties discussed below.
A final
competing variable in determining a child's behavior with an
animal is the child's simultaneous interaction with other humans
present. Certainly the children's focus was sometimes each other,
with animals as vehicles or facilitators of humor, learning,
friendship, and so on. But I learned to be suspicious of how
easy it was to "understand" interactions without taking the
animal into account. Here is one instructive example. On the
day Ms. Nol brought a ball python to the class I observed the
children acting scared. Ms. Nol suggested that my presence might
be cuing the children to act out fearful responses since they
had been calm before I arrived. Upon reviewing the videotape,
this proved to be an astute observation: they were skittish
when I was there. Were they trying to please me with dramatic
reactions? No, this interpretation ignored the snake's movements.
During the period of the children's calm attention, the snake's
head was toward its keeper. When I was present the snake happened
to be positioned with its head outward, and the children's avoidant
movements occurred precisely when its head was pointed at them.
Indeed, before I arrived, the three other exceptions to the
calm mood each occurred at moments the snake's head was pointed
at a child.
In sum,
these examples do not prove that factors such as human-human
interaction, cultural frames, instruction, projection, or cognitive
categories are not present in children's relations with animals.
But the examples do show that even when we might suspect otherwise,
the animal's own agency is a more salient factor to the child
than each of the others listed. It is the first basic dimension
of child-animal interactive processes to emerge from this study.
We can
further note that children responded differently to different
animals' agentic qualities. Most obviously, whole patterns of
response to the dog differed greatly from those to insects.
But every animal, to the individual, offers different contingencies
for interaction, as children revealed in moment-to-moment behavior.
The child's capacity to respond to agentic action is flexible,
and can encompass other species. This pattern, encountered also
in the dimensions discussed below, argues against the idea that
children are rigidly anthropomorphic, at least in the understandings
of animals implicit in their interactions.
Bodily
Contact and Wholeness: Coherence
Young
children are concretely oriented in their approach to animals
(as noted by Margadant-van Arcken 1984, 1989; and consistent
with a Piagetian perspective). Petting an animal is culturally
framed but it also provides a tactile sense of the animal. It
is a sought-after activity, and children asked to touch the
animals that were brought to class. When they were not allowed,
furtive pettings took place. Children commented on surface textures
they felt when petting the animals, such as softness or smoothness.
Some
petting or observation focused on parts of the animals. Children
remarked on the differentiations of animals' bodies, such as
teeth, feet, and so on. Benson touched the turtle's hind foot
and remarked, "I touched his claws and he didn't scratch me."
The dog's tail also drew attention, for its sweeping motion:
Drew
pointed to the dog: "Look [what] it's doing; it's sweeping
the floor." Solly suggests its name should be "Sweeper.".
. .Shortly, Mindy moved close to Toby and the dog's tail;
Dimitri and then Rosa also approached, and all put their hands
under the dog's tail as he wagged it.
The body
parts children remarked on in this way stand out from the whole
animal. The whole animal possessed an unmarked primary coherence
, revealed by how children readied themselves to hold an
animal. Children could hold and pet small animals in the classroom,
enabling them to touch the entire animal, and giving a concrete
sense of its bodily unity. This sense is reflected in Dimitri's
comment while feeding the guinea pig. Holding her on a towel
between his legs for a long time, he told her several times,
"I got you." Dimitri had created a space for the small, calm,
and furry guinea pig between his legs. Readiness to hold an
animal reflected the specific shape and character of the animal.
On the other hand, one animal literally held the children. Ms.
Nol helped Yasmin hold the large snake, and cope with its way
of holding her:
Yasmin:
"I want to do, could you do that to me?". . . Ms. Nol puts
the big snake around Yasmin; she is calm, and laughs. Ms.
Nol: "It's got 'ya. It's just holding on tight." Yasmin: "It's
just squeezing me." Ms. Nol: "It's got its tail under your
arm, just holding on--it probably thinks you're a tree." Yasmin:
"Maybe." Ms. Nol: "A good solid branch to hold onto so he
won't fall--she, she." Yasmin: "It touches. Please don't touch."
She keeps her hands away from the snake: "Make it unravel
by itself." Ms. Nol lifts it off.
Ms. Nol's
commentary seemed lost on Yasmin, who was anxiously focused
on the snake. The large, mobile snake embraced Yasmin (and other
children) as it constantly extended and changed its position--tracing,
as it were, not only her own, but also the child's characteristic
shape and unity.
Whether
by noticing textures, shapes, components, or the whole of an
animal, young children experience it as possessing coherence
as an other. As discussed elsewhere (Myers, 1994), animals'
lack of language may also reinforce this impression. The cultural
practice of naming animals, avidly engaged in by these young
children (again, as also found by Margadant-van Arcken, 1984,
1989), underscores the animal's particularity and uniqueness--qualities
which presume coherence. And as with agency, children at least
implicitly register variations in coherence as they touch and
hold different animals' bodies. This was explicit in children's
comments about animals, and even in some names they gave them,
such as the tactile "Furry" for a ferret, or "Sweeper" for the
dog, indexing its unity of agency and anatomy.
Patterns
of Arousal: Animals' Varying Vitality Affects
Affectivity
is the third major parameter organizing nonverbal child-animal
interaction. The important type of affects for our study are
not the "categorical" affects, such as happiness, sadness, and
anger. Detecting these depends on tenuous inference even with
humans where species-specific facial musculature and cultural
narrative structures provides strong cues. This is not to say
children may not attribute such affects to animals, though they
seldom did in this study. But "vitality" affects don't pose
such difficulties, although they also are surely subject to
"mis-reading." Vital affects are similar to moods, but are better
seen as patterns of arousal over time such as a "rush" of excitement,
a "buoyancy" of activity, or a "plodding" sequence of moves.
Vitality affects can be conveyed across all expressive modes,
and so are plausibly trans-specific, including between humans
and other social animals.
Children's
reading of animals' vitality affects was revealed most clearly
by variations in affective responses. As a simple example, in
videotaped episodes with the dog, the children were invited
to throw the ball for him. The dog's excited and expectant vitality
affects were conveyed to the children by both motion--its quick
pacing and turning and its alert face--and by its non-directed,
non-threatening barking. The children's response showed recognition
of the mood--they were very excited. Further, the excitement
wasn't demonstrated only in wanting to throw the ball, which
could be interpreted as the governing cultural frame of the
interaction. That a deeper level of vitality affect was operating
was shown in the variety of responses showing a similar affect.
For example, two girls scrambled around and clung to each other.
But they smiled and verbally denied that they were scared, revealing
they were seriously afraid. The qualities and temporal contours
of their arousal followed (and at the same time complemented)
the dog's excitement, illustrating the idea that vitality affects
are invariants which can occur across sensory modalities and
can be expressed or experienced in a variety of concrete qualities
of action.
Another
level of variation--in children's affective responses across
different species--underscores the importance of vitality affects.
The ferrets provided a contrast to the dog's affect. They were
initially too active to be let free and had to be held, the
children taking turns feeding them with a bottle. Being held
and fed a cloying oil-vitamin mixture, the ferrets became lethargic,
a vitality affect reinforced by the way they relaxed when the
presenter held them by their neck skin, a standard way to carry
them. Reflecting this predominant vitality affect, the whole
session ended up being one of the most low-key of all the sessions.
The affect during much of time with the snake was also calm--consistent
with its slow movement. But as we saw, this was punctuated by
moments of intense anxiety when the snake faced a child, and
perhaps accentuated by the quick flicking of its tongue.
The above
are examples of children's affects that matched animals' apparent
vitality affects. Such examples roughly resemble mood contagion
observed in much younger children, but the question of how such
reciprocal patterns relate to the various meanings of empathy
or inter-subjectivity will not be addressed here. For now, the
main points are that affect is an organizing dimension across
a wide variety of child-animal interactions, and that this process
is sensitive to the differences animals present as affective
others.
Histories
of Interaction: Relationship and Continuity
Interacting
with an animal over an extended time allows the child to experience
regularity in the agency, coherence, and affect of the animal,
and can transform interactions into a patterned relationship
that provides the dimension of continuity . Among children
in the class, about half were new in the class (mean age 4y,
4m), and half were returning for their second year (mean age
4y, 11m). The latter group knew the guinea pig from the previous
year. They accounted for 61% of the ad hoc observations of a
child interacting with the guinea pig in the first part of the
year, and 85% of these children took part in such episodes.
On the other hand, only 39% of interactions were by new children,
accounting for only 58% of this group. These data may indicate
more well-established and personally significant patterns of
relationship between the more experienced children and the guinea-pig.
Different
children exhibited different patterns of interacting with the
guinea-pig. Some children typically babied her; others teased
her; some were very interested in her and others not very much
so. Some of these patterns were culturally expected for child-animal
relations, and some not; some were gender-typical, and others
were not. The guinea-pig herself had been in the room several
years and could accommodate to different styles of being handled,
fed, caught, and so on; she was thus an important factor in
continuity. These considerations together suggest that the importance
and patterns of children's relationships with this animal were
as determined by the dimensions of particular histories of child-animal
interaction as they were by extrinsic factors.
Discussion:
The Animate Other in Developmental Context
Developmental
Precursors
Are there
developmental precursors to the young child's ability to accommodate
conduct in interactions with animals? On the face of it, there
must be, since evidence now shows that infants distinguish animals
as a distinct category. One of the earliest relevant studies
was Bregman's (1934) attempt to replicate Watson and Rayner's
conditioning of a fear response of an infant ("Little Albert")
to a live rat. However, Bregman paired a loud noise not with
a live rat but with wooden blocks and pieces of cloth. After
numerous attempts with 15 infants, she found no evidence of
conditioning. Ross (1980) found a distinct category for representations
of animals by 12 months. Golinkoff and Halperin (1983) found
similar affective reactions to most animal as opposed to non-animal
stimuli in one eight-month-old boy. Although only one living
animal was used, they also concluded the boy possessed a preverbal
category for animal. Using an habituation paradigm, Roberts
and Cuff (1989) placed at age nine months the ability to discriminate
basic level categories including bird , and at 15 months
the superordinate category animal . Kidd and Kidd (1987b)
studied 250 infants at ages six, 12, 18, 24 and 30 months, and
found an increase across this range in proximity-seeking and
contact-promoting behaviors directed to the family companion
animal as compared with a novel battery-operated toy dog or
a stuffed toy kitten that purred when handled. From 12 months
on, babies smiled, vocalized, and maintained interactions longer
with the companion animal; however, extension of this finding
to animals in general may be limited by the familiarity of the
companion animal. Ricard and Allard (1993) found differentiated
patterns of response to a novel rabbit versus either a stranger
or a mechanical toy at ages nine to 10 months. The authors concluded,
"the spontaneous familiarization behaviors [infants] resort
to when confronted with an unfamiliar yet unfrightening animal
suggest that they do not confound this class of objects with
people or with inanimate toys" (p. 14).
What
might underlie their specific findings? We argue that the features
of animals as interactants to the child discovered here have
early developmental bases that can account for the salience
of animals to humans from the early months onwards. The dimensions
of agency, vitality affect, coherence, and continuity as invariants
of self and other are available to infants in interaction beginning
as young as three months. Stern (1985) argued that these dimensions
are continuously present in interaction and give rise to the
earliest sense of self and other, one which lasts through life.
This claim rests on discoveries of the last 20 years demonstrating
a degree of pre-preparedness of the infant to integrate and
globally represent invariant features of sensory experience
that would astonish those of the "booming buzzing confusion"
school of associationism, who thought learning must precede
the baby's experience of an organized world and self. For example,
Stern reported that neonates compare information across sensory
modalities, and that they distinguish self- versus other-initiated
actions. By three months, the subjective experience of the self
as an agentic, coherent, and affective entity emerges from cues
(both internal and external) discovered repeatedly across many
interactions. There are similar prospects for a sense of the
other, whose comings and goings, for example, the infant controls
indirectly and incompletely, and in degrees varying with the
other's social responsiveness.
Specific
abilities relevant to each dimension identified above continue
to emerge in recent research. With reference to affectivity,
infants use others' emotions to understand behavior (Spelke,
Phillips and Woodward, 1995). As has been long known regarding
human stimuli, infants clearly distinguish animate from inanimate
motion. New evidence suggests that by age seven months they
distinguish people from objects by their interactive traits.
Two aspects of social others related to agency--the use of another's
gaze to determine attention, and memory of another's actions
based on the other's goal orientation--have also been shown
to emerge before the second year (Woodward, Phillips and Spelke,
1993; Woodward, 1995).
Infants
probably notice consistent variations in these characteristics,
giving rise to their grasp, shown above, of animals as discrepant
social others. By early childhood, the exploration of these
various interactive possibilities is in full swing. Cognitive
evidence shows agency continues to be salient into early childhood.
Gelman and colleagues asked children to judge whether videotaped
unfamiliar objects and animals which moved across a surface
were moved by an external cause (a person moved it), an internal
cause (something inside it), or an immanent cause (it moved
by itself). Some children saw all the target objects being carried
by a human hand; others saw them all moving without any apparent
human help. Surprisingly, the researchers found that four-year-olds
"consistently deny any external cause to explain the
biological events, even when a human bodily carries an animal.
Rather, biological events are viewed as resulting from immanent
causes. Children regularly appeal to intrinsic factors even
without knowing the internal mechanism" (Gelman, Coley and Gottfried,
1994, p. 349). Researchers are now discussing the possibility
of an innate domain of "biological knowledge" (Hirschfeld and
Gelman, 1994); the suggestion from the research reported here
is that certain "biological" concepts may develop specifically
as a result of interactive experience with other species.
Self
and Animate Other
But the
implications of this study go beyond cognitive development.
James (1890) argued that the experience of having a subjective
self or I is characterized by senses of agency, wholeness,
and continuity. Similarly, we argue that when an interactant's
behavior provides invariant evidence of agency, coherence, affectivity,
and continuity, it will confirm the person's sense of basic
selfhood. Further, the other that does so will be perceived
as a core other also. Thus we argue that the child experiences
the animal as a compellingly immediate subjective other. This
does not at all mean that the animal's subjectivity is experienced
as either shared or transparent, but such is only sometimes
the case even between humans. It does mean that animals' behavior
is not the empty, flat behavior of behaviorists, but that it
is apprehended as rich in implicit meaning. Such meaning may
not be conscious or articulated, but it nonetheless determines
important features of moment-to-moment interaction, and patterns
of relationship that emerge from histories of such interaction.
Conclusion
This
examination of children's interactions with animals as cases
of interactive processes supports important generalizations
about the roles of animals in social development, and also about
the nature of children's interactive abilities. First, children's
interactions with animals demonstrate responsiveness to the
same set of features that are hallmarks of social interaction.
At least for children of the ages in this study, a basic sense
of self forms in relation to the available interspecies community
of early development, rather than the strictly human community.
Second, responses by children were differentiated across animal
interactants and also vis-a-vis human patterns of interaction.
The fact that interactions are conducted with sensitivity and
active accommodation to self-other variation in these features
in animals shows that children are not completely projective
or anthropomorphic. Animals as others for young children are
socially interactive, immediately subjective, and optimally
discrepant.
Two broader
kinds of questions are possible at this point. Both indicate
the importance of studying human-animal interactions. First,
we have shown that nonverbal, "merely" embodied, aspects of
interaction are meaningful in ways important to mental phenomena
such as the developing self. This has significance not only
for human-animal studies, but even more profoundly for general
psychology. Certain very basic properties of animates appear
to be simultaneously perceptible and intelligible, similar to
dance or music (cf Grene, 1968, pp. 124-5). This runs counter
to the classical division between notions like natural
and non-natural meaning (Grice, 1957), body
and mind generally, as well as the discontinuities
in experience presumed to stem from these. These divisions run
parallel to rigid presumed distinctions of the nonhuman and
the human common in social theory (Sanders and Arluke, 1993).
Studying child-animal interactions is thus one way to understand
continuities between body and mind.
This
latter observation raises the second hunch, which pertains to
the developmental course of the capacities discovered here.
We argued that the processes discussed have some degree of primacy
over other factors, including linguistically-conveyed cultural
meanings. Might verbal meanings be constrained by the dynamics
of animate-level interactions? The indication is that meanings
are not acquired in a simple pattern-imposition manner; animate
interaction has its own formative patterns. How do children's
understandings implicit in embodied interactions with animals
become explicit insights, and receive further elaboration? These
questions have great relevance for our understanding of social
development within the world of other human subjects also. Because
animals vary from humans and from each other in the features
they present as interactants, and yet are social partners to
children on the animate level, they offer researchers key comparisons
for such questions.
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