Philosophy of Adulthood

I consistently enjoy our readings in The Philosophy of Childhood by Gareth B. Matthews. By complicating our view of childhood Matthews raises many important issues, relating both to childhood and human experience across our lifespans. By exploring the way way children think, reflect and explore problems, Matthews confronts societal norms for those behaviors. By exploring issues of children and death, Matthews looks attitude that adults and the medical community have towards death.

The discussion of death reminded me of a conversation I had with a Children's Literature professor several years ago. I asked her why so many classic children's books featured the death of a beloved animal (A Day No Pig's Would Die, The Yearling, Old Yeller, and Where the Red Fern Grows are all examples). I was especially struck with the first three, because the children in the stories actually have to kill their animals themselves. The stories seemed remarkably intense and tragic. The faculty member suggested that for many children, the death of a pet is likely to be their first real experience with mortality, something reflected in the story. Featuring the death of a pet is also a way to introduce the concept of death without actually directly addressing human mortality. I also wonder if these stories are a powerful lesson on bearing the burden of responsibility. In the first three stories, where the children have to kill their beloved animals, it is because of a greater need, a larger responsibility, that the child must bear. In these ways such stories reflect the concept that doing the right thing is often difficult and painful, but also necessary.

In fact, a lot of children's literature involves death, including the tragic death of humans (The Bridge to Teribithia, Island of the Blue Dolphins, The Secret Garden). Which is interesting, since, as Matthews points out, typically adults are uncomfortable discussing death with children. Like many uncomfortable realities, we (adults) find it more comfortable to avoid discussing it with children, being intentionally oblivious to the reality that children will develop their own ideas and perspectives based on what they experience and learn from the world around them.
This dynamic hits at the heart of what strikes me in Matthews work. By looking at how children develop in a complex, multi-layered way, Matthews asks us to think about ourselves (as adults) and our social values. It is like looking at another culture to get greater insight into your own, but in this case the other culture is, instead, another phase of life, one we all experienced, but only vaguely remember, and don't really understand.

Why is it that children, reading Tuck Everlasting, have questions and curiosity about death, but adults are reluctant to talk about it? Why is it that children ask "naive" questions about life ("How does my mind know how big the door is?"), that adults seem to gloss over? Matthews brings up these topics in an exploration of our concept of childhood, but it makes me think of our concept of adulthood. Why do we, as adults, stop asking questions? Why do we find it so hard to discuss certain topics? Not only do we not ask questions and have discussions, we often try to avoid even thinking about certain subjects. Not just serious subjects, like death, which can be upsetting, but also other subjects (What is color? Why do we eat dinner this way?), because they seem pointless or silly, somehow unworthy of consideration.

Matthews describes philosophers as still being able to ask the naive questions. A few other professions are encouraged/allowed to keep a naive point of view as well. Artists, writers, and poets often show a fascination for and focus on things that many of us take for granted, or completely overlook. Some scientists, engineers and inventors make breakthroughs by questioning our assumptions about how things have to be. Social theorists create powerful new concepts by exploring common human behavior. So there are individuals that are encouraged and rewarded for keeping "childish" traits. But they seem to be the exception, rather than the rule. For some reason, the standard concept of adulthood seems be someone that doesn't ask questions, that doesn't wonder why things are the way the are, someone who actually avoids even thinking about certain subjects.

Maybe that is for practical reasons. Throughout most of history, humans have had to struggle to survive. A farmer working from sunrise to sunset to raise food to feed a family has limited resources to invest in abstract thinking. Someone who has an expected lifespan of 44 just won't have as much time to think, period. People who have no access to education, and are unlikely to ever leave their home village, are unlikely to be encouraged to explore new ideas and possibilities. In those circumstances some individuals will ask questions, and gain insights, but they are the exception. So maybe adulthood doesn't value naive questions and childlike insight because traditionally it couldn't afford to.

Matthews, in his work exploring childhood, pushes us not only to ask question about how we define "childhood," but to contrast them with adults, and thus confront our notion of "adulthood." By examining a phase of life we value but only vaguely remember, Matthews encourages us to examine our lives now, and the assumptions, norms and expectations of our current phase of life.