Handbook of Child Well-Being: Theories, Methods and Policies in Global Perspective

Asher Ben-Arieh
Ferran Casas
Ivar Frønes
Jill E. Korbin
Editors
Handbook of
Child Well-Being
Theories, Methods and
Policies in Global Perspective
1 3Reference
Handbook of Child Well-Being
Asher Ben-Arieh • Ferran Casas
Ivar Frønes • Jill E. Korbin
Editors
Handbook of
Child Well-Being
Theories, Methods and
Policies in Global Perspective
With 138 Figures and 85 Tables

Editors
Asher Ben-Arieh Ivar Frønes
Paul Baerwald School of Social Work and Department of Sociology and
Social Welfare Human Geography
The Hebrew University of Jerusalem University of Oslo
Jerusalem, Israel Oslo, Norway
Ferran Casas The Norwegian Center for Child

Research Institute of Quality of Life Behavioural Development
University of Girona University of Oslo
Girona, Spain Oslo, Norway
Jill E. Korbin
Department of Anthropology
Schubert Center for Child Studies
Case Western Reserve University
Cleveland, USA
ISBN 978-90-481-9062-1 ISBN 978-90-481-9063-8 (eBook)

ISBN 978-90-481-9064-5 (print and electronic bundle)
DOI 10.1007/978-90-481-9063-8
Springer Dordrecht Heidelberg New York London
Library of Congress Control Number: 2013942189
# Springer Science+Business Media Dordrecht 2014

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Acknowledgments
We express our gratitude to all who have made this project into a reality. As Asher
drew us together, asking what we were doing for the next several years of our lives,
we worked to bring together the multiple perspectives involved in child well-being.
We thank the more than 200 authors and coauthors who contributed more than
110 state-of-the-art chapters to the Handbook. Our colleagues’ chapters reflect not
only their expertise but also their commitment to child well-being. The chapters
reflect international and transdisciplinary perspectives.
We thank the International Society for Child Indicators that has been an intellectual
home for this project and supported our editorial board meetings. We also thank
our home institutions for offering us encouragement and support in time and resources.
We thank our editors at Springer, Myriam Poort and Esther Otten, who believed
in this project from its inception and have contributed enormously to its successful
completion, and to Miranda Dijksman for her outstanding organizational and
editorial skills in all aspects of the Handbook.
We thank Daphna Gross-Manos, our editorial assistant. This work would not
have been possible without her tireless, dedicated, and expert work. She is a scholar
in her own right and also authored a chapter in the Handbook.
Finally, all of us owe a debt of gratitude to the countless children and families
around the world who participated in the research presented in this book.
Last, but not least, we express our gratitude to our families who supported us
while we traveled for editorial board meetings and read through the mounds of
chapters that crossed our desks. We dedicate this Handbook to them, to our spouses
and partners, to our children, and our grandchildren.
v
About the Editors
Professor Asher Ben-Arieh
Asher Ben-Arieh is a professor of social work at the Hebrew University of

Jerusalem and the director of the Haruv Institute in Jerusalem. He served for
20 years as the associate director of Israel’s National Council for the Child. He
has been a visiting fellow at Chapin Hall Center for Children at the University of
Chicago and the Institute on Family and Neighborhood Life in Clemson University.
Since 1990 and until 2011, he has been the founding editor-in-chief of the annual
The State of the Child in Israel. Professor Ben-Arieh is one of the leading interna-
tional experts on social indicators, particularly, as they relate to child well-being.
He initiated and coordinated the International Project Measuring and Monitoring
Children Well-Being, was among the founding members of the International Soci-
ety for Children Indicators (ISCI), and elected to be its first co-chair. Asher has
published extensively on social policy, child welfare, and indicators of children
well-being. Professor Ben-Arieh is the founding editor-in-chief of the journal Child
Indicators Research (CIR) and the book series Child Well Being: Indicators and
Research. Ben-Arieh was born in Jerusalem; he is married and has three children.
vii
viii About the Editors
Professor Ferran Casas
Ferran Casas is a senior professor of social psychology in the Faculty of Education

and Psychology at the University of Girona (Spain). He leads ERIDIQV research
team (Research Team of Children’s Rights and their Quality of Life), at the
Research Institute on Quality of Life, University of Girona. His main topics of
research are children’s and adolescents’ well-being and quality of life, children’s
rights, adolescents and audiovisual media, and adolescents-parents relationships.
For the last 10 years, he has been involved in 10 international research projects, 3 of
them supported by the European Commission – the most recent one being the
YIPPEE project (Young People from a Public care background: pathways to
Education in Europe). He has been a visiting fellow at the Universidad Federal de
Rio Grande do Sul, in Porto Alegre (Brazil). At present, Professor Casas partici-
pates in new international projects and developing systems of subjective indicators
of children’s and adolescents’ well-being, mainly for the International Survey of
Children’s Well-Being (ISCWeB, Children’s Worlds). He is a member of the
Boards of the International Society for Child Indicators (ISCI) and of the Interna-
tional Society for Quality of Life Studies (ISQOLS). From 1990 to 1993, he was the
director of the Centro de Estudios del Menor, depending of the Spanish Ministry of
Social Affairs, in Madrid (Spain). From 1992 to 1996, Professor Casas was the
chair of the Experts Committee on Childhood Policies of the Council of Europe
(Strasbourg, France). He was the first president of the Advisory Board of
Childwatch International (Oslo, Norway), until 1996, and continued as a member
of that Board until 2005. Casas also was the first director of the Research Institute
on Quality of Life of the University of Girona (Spain), and, for 18 years, he has been
the director of the journal Intervención Psicosocial. Professor Casas has authored
and coauthored 15 books, more than 40 book chapters, and over 100 papers in
scientific journals, in 9 different languages, most of them related to well-being
and QOL.
About the Editors ix
Professor Ivar Frønes
Ivar Frønes is a professor of sociology at the University of Oslo, Norway, and

senior researcher at the Norwegian Center for Child Behavioural Development. His
work and international experience cover a variety of areas, with an emphasis on life
course analysis; children, youth, and family sociology; well-being and social
exclusion. Professor Frønes is a member of the Board of the International Society
for Child Indicators. He is the founder of the journal Childhood, and among the
group that initiated Childwatch International. His numerous publications cover
a variations of perspectives on childhood, as illustrated by publications such as
“Among Peers” (1995), “Status Zero Youth in the Welfare Society” (2007), “On
theories of dialogue, self and society: Redefining socialization and the acquisition
of meaning in light of the inter-subjective matrix” (2007), “Theorizing indicators –
On indicators, signs and trends” (2007), “Childhood: Leisure, Culture and Peers”
(2009), and (with Ragnhild Brusdal) “The purchase of moral positions: an essay on
the markets of concerned parenting” (2013). In Scandinavia, he has published
books on digital divides, modern childhood, marginalization and risk, cultural
trends, and a variety of subjects related to childhood, youth, and life course
development. At present, he is working on projects on life course, childhood, and
marginalization.
x About the Editors
Professor Jill E. Korbin
Jill E. Korbin, Ph.D. (1978 U.C.L.A.), is associate dean, professor of anthropol-

ogy, director of the Schubert Center for Child Studies, and codirector of the
Childhood Studies Program in the College of Arts and Sciences at Case Western
Reserve University. Her awards include the Margaret Mead Award (1986) from the
American Anthropological Association and the Society for Applied Anthropology;
a Congressional Science Fellowship (1985–1986 in the Office of Senator Bill
Bradley) through the American Association for the Advancement of Science and
the Society for Research in Child Development; the Wittke Award for Excellence
in Undergraduate Teaching at Case Western Reserve University (1992); and
a Fulbright Senior Specialist Award (2005). Korbin has published on child mal-
treatment in relationship to culture and context, and edited the first volume on
culture and child maltreatment, Child Abuse and Neglect: Cross-Cultural Perspec-
tives (1981, University of California Press). Korbin and Richard Krugman, M.D.,
are currently coediting a book series, Child Maltreatment: Contemporary Issues in
Research and Policy, published by Springer. Korbin’s research interests include
culture and human development; cultural, medical, and psychological anthropol-
ogy; neighborhood, community, and contextual influences on children and families;
child maltreatment; and child and adolescent well-being.
Advisory Board
Jonathan Bradshaw University of York, York, UK

Vinod Chandra Lucknow University, Lucknow, India
Jaap E. Doek Vrije Universiteit, Lisse, Netherlands
Howard Dubowitz University of Maryland School of Medicine, Baltimore, USA
Jeanne Fagnani The Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development
(OECD), Paris, France
James Garbarino Loyola University Chicago, Chicago, USA
Scott Huebner University of South Carolina, Columbia, USA
Bong Joo Lee Seoul National University, Seoul, Korea
Yehualashet Mekonen The African Child Policy Forum (ACPF), Addis Ababa,
Ethiopia
Bernhard Nauck Chemnitz University of Technology, Chemnitz, Germany
Jorge Castella Sarriera Federal University of Rio Grande do Sul (UFRGS),
Rio Grande do Sul, Brazil
Fiona Stanley The University of Western Australia, Crawley, Australia
Cecilia Von Feilitzen Södertörn University, Huddinge, Sweden
Thomas S. Weisner University of California, Los Angeles, USA
Rita Žukauskienė Mykolas Romeris University, Vilnius, Lithuania
xi
Contents
Volume 1
1 Multifaceted Concept of Child Well-Being . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1

Asher Ben-Arieh, Ferran Casas, Ivar Frønes, and Jill E. Korbin
Section I Multiple Perspectives on Child Well-Being . . . . . . . . . . . . 29

2 History of Children’s Well-Being . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 31
Bengt Sandin
3 Culture, Context, and Child Well-Being ................... 87
Thomas S. Weisner
4 Children, Gender, and Issues of Well-Being ................ 105
Harriet Bjerrum Nielsen and Barrie Thorne
5 Childhood and Intergenerationality: Toward an
Intergenerational Perspective on Child Well-Being . . . . . . . . . . . 131
Leena Alanen
Section II Multiple Approaches to Child Well-Being . . . . . . . . . . . 161

6 Child Well-Being: A Philosophical Perspective . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 163
Alexander Bagattini
7 Child Well-Being: Children’s Rights Perspective ............ 187
Jaap E. Doek
8 Neuroscience and Child Well-Being . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 219
Adeline Jabès and Charles A. Nelson
9 Educational Science and Child Well-Being . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 249
Sabine Andresen
10 Geographies of Children’s Well-Being: in, of, and for Place . . . . 279
John H. McKendrick
xiii
xiv Contents
11 Child Healthcare and Child Well-Being: From the Past to

the Future . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 301
Christopher Greeley and Howard Dubowitz
12 Public Health Aspects of Child Well-Being . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 317
Sally Brinkman and Fiona Stanley
13 Well-Being of Children: A Criminologic Perspective ......... 351
Mimi Ajzenstadt
14 Economics of Child Well-Being . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 363
Gabriella Conti and James J. Heckman
15 Social Work and Child Well-Being . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 403
Sheila B. Kamerman and Shirley Gatenio-Gabel
16 Children’s Well-Being and Politics . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 415
Jo Moran-Ellis, Anna Bandt, and Heinz S€
unker
17 Mediated Well-Being from the Perspective of Media and
Communication Studies . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 437
Divina Frau-Meigs
18 Child Well-Being: Anthropological Perspectives . . . . . . . . . . . . . 485
Edward G. J. Stevenson and Carol M. Worthman
19 Social Psychology and Child Well-Being . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 513
Ferran Casas, Mònica González, and Dolors Navarro
20 Psychology of Child Well-Being . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 555
Arne Holte, Margaret M. Barry, Mona Bekkhus,
Anne Inger Helmen Borge, Lucy Bowes, Ferran Casas,
Oddgeir Friborg, Bjørn Grinde, Bruce Headey, Thomas Jozefiak,
Ratib Lekhal, Nic Marks, Ruud Muffels, Ragnhild Bang Nes,
Espen Røysamb, Jens C. Thimm, Svenn Torgersen,
Gisela Trommsdorff, Ruut Veenhoven, Joar Vittersø,
Trine Waaktaar, Gert G. Wagner, Catharina Elisabeth
Arfwedson Wang, Bente Wold, and Henrik Daae Zachrisson
Volume 2
Section III Theoretical Approaches to Child Well-Being . . . . . . . . 633

21 Understanding the Well-Being of Children and Adolescents
Through Homeostatic Theory . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 635
Robert A. Cummins
22 Sociology: Societal Structure, Development of Childhood, and
the Well-Being of Children . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 663
Jens Qvortrup
Contents xv
23 Children’s Well-Being and Interpretive Reproduction . . . . . . . . 709

William A. Corsaro
24 Capability Approach as a Framework for Research on
Children’s Well-Being . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 739
Susann Fegter and Martina Richter
25 Socialization and Childhood in Sociological Theorizing . . . . . . . 759

Lourdes Gaitán
Section IV Children’s Activities and Well-Being .............. 795

26 Schooling and Children’s Subjective Well-Being . . . . . . . . . . . . . 797
E. Scott Huebner, Kimberly J. Hills, Xu Jiang, Rachel F. Long,
Ryan Kelly, and Michael D. Lyons
27 Children’s Work . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 821
Michael Bourdillon
28 After-School Activities and Leisure Education .............. 863

Jaume Trilla, Ana Ayuste, and Ingrid Agud
29 Play and Well-Being in Children’s Life . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 895

Jan Van Gils
30 Sport, Children, and Well-Being . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 911
Yngvar Ommundsen, Knut Løndal, and Sigmund Loland
31 Artistic Activity and Child Well-Being in Early Schooling:

Revisiting the Narratives . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 941
Jolyn Blank
32 Civic Engagement and Child and Adolescent Well-Being . . . . . . 957
Daniel Hart, Kyle Matsuba, and Robert Atkins
33 State of the Field: Youth Community Service in the USA . . . . . . 977
Edward Metz
34 Time Use, Inequality, and Child Well-Being . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 999
Sara Raley
Section V Arts, Creativity and Child Well-Being .............. 1033

35 Images of Child Well-Being in the Arts . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1035
Ellen Handler Spitz
36 Role of Art and Creativity in Child Culture
and Socialization . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1053
Khin Yee Lo and Koji Matsunobu
xvi Contents
37 Imagination, Play, and the Role of Performing Arts in the

Well-Being of Children . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1079
Philip E. Silvey
Section VI Spirituality and Religion . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1099

38 Relation of Spiritual Development to Youth Health
and Well-Being: Evidence from a Global Study . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1101
Peter C. Scales, Amy K. Syvertsen, Peter L. Benson,
Eugene C. Roehlkepartain, and Arturo Sesma, Jr.
39 Religion and Child Well-Being . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1137
George W. Holden and Paul Alan Williamson
40 Religion, Spirituality, and Child Well-Being . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1171
Kurt Bangert
41 Islamic Education and Youth Well-Being in Muslim Countries,
with a Specific Reference to Algeria . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1209
Habib Tiliouine
Volume 3
Section VII An Ecological Perspective on Child Well-Being ..... 1227

42 Family and Child Well-Being . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1229
Cigdem Kagitcibasi
43 Effects of School on the Well-Being of Children
and Adolescents . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1251
Francisco Juan Garcı́a Bacete, Ghislaine Marande Perrin,
Barry H. Schneider, and Celine Blanchard
44 Community and Place-Based Understanding of
Child Well-Being . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1307
Claudia J. Coulton and James C. Spilsbury
45 Children’s Social Networks and Well-Being . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1335
Deborah Belle and Joyce Benenson
46 Ecological Perspective on Child Well-Being . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1365
James Garbarino
Section VIII Economy/Material Well-Being . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1385

47 Poverty and Social Exclusion . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1387
Gerry Redmond
Contents xvii
48 Well-Being and Children in a Consumer Society . . . . . . . . . . . . 1427

Ragnhild Brusdal and Ivar Frønes
49 Children’s Material Living Standards in Rich Countries . . . . . . 1445
Gill Main and Kirsten Besemer
50 Child Costs . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1483
Bruce Bradbury
51 Child Labor and Children’s Economic Contributions . . . . . . . . . 1509
Scott Lyon and Furio Camillo Rosati
52 Childhood and Inequalities: Generational Distributive

Justice and Disparities . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1523
Helmut Wintersberger
53 Economics of Child Well-Being: Measuring Effects

of Child Welfare Interventions . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1563
Anna Aizer and Joseph J. Doyle, Jr.
Section IX Life Course and Child Well-Being . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1603

54 Infancy and Well-Being . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1605
Heidi Keller
55 Early Childhood: Dimensions and Contexts of Development

and Well-Being . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1629
Elizabeth Fernandez
56 Developmental Assets and the Promotion of Well-Being in

Middle Childhood . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1649
Peter C. Scales
57 Child Well-Being and the Life Course . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1679

Richard A. Settersten, Jr., Megan M. McClelland, and Alicia Miao
58 Adolescence and Well-Being . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1713

Rita Žukauskienė
59 Monitoring the Health and Well-Being of Developing

Children in Changing Contexts: A Framework for Action . . . . . 1739
Bonnie Leadbeater, Wayne Mitic, and Michael Egilson
60 Transition to Adulthood . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1763

Janel Benson
xviii Contents
Section X Interpersonal Relations ......................... 1785

61 Allomothers and Child Well-Being . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1787
Courtney L. Meehan
62 Sibling Relationships and Children’s Social Well-Being . . . . . . . 1817

K. Ripoll-Núñez and Sonia Carrillo
63 The Role of Peers in Children’s Lives and Their Contribution
to Child Well-Being: Theory and Research . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1843
Daphna Gross-Manos
64 Children’s Social and Emotional Relationships and
Well-Being: From the Perspective of the Child . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1865
Colette McAuley and Wendy Rose
65 Children as Caregivers . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1893
Ruth Evans
66 Why Are Relationships Important to Children’s
Well-Being? . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1917
Ross A. Thompson
Volume 4
Section XI Media and Communication and Child Well-Being . . . . 1955

67 Analysis of Children’s Television Characters and
Media Policies . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1957
André H. Caron and Jennie M. Hwang
68 News Media and Child Well-Being . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1979
Cynthia Carter
69 Conflict, Media, and Child Well-Being . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2013
Dafna Lemish and Maya G€ otz
70 Advertising and Child Well-Being . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2031
Agnes Nairn
71 Media Literacy and Well-Being of Young People . . . . . . . . . . . . 2057
Manisha Pathak-Shelat
72 Internet and Child Well-Being . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2093
Veronika Kalmus, Andra Siibak, and Lukas Blinka
73 Children’s Well-Being and Communication . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2135
Florencia Enghel
Contents xix
Section XII Well-Being and the Family . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2151

74 Conciliating Parents’ Labor and Family Life . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2153
Anna Escobedo
75 Parenting Styles and Child Well-Being . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2173
Marı́a José Rodrigo, Sonia Byrne, and Beatriz Rodrı́guez
76 Does Family Matter? The Well-Being of Children Growing
Up in Institutions, Foster Care and Adoption . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2197
Christie Schoenmaker, Femmie Juffer, Marinus H. van IJzendoorn,
and Marian J. Bakermans-Kranenburg
77 Family-Related Factors Influencing Child Well-Being . . . . . . . . 2229
Lluı́s Flaquer
Section XIII Health and Child Well-Being . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2257

78 Health and Child Well-Being . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2259
Tim Moore and Frank Oberklaid
79 Infant Rearing in the Context of Contemporary
Neuroscience . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2281
Penelope Leach
80 Illness and Child Well-Being . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2319

Noboru Kobayashi, Yoichi Sakakihara, Kengo Nishimaki,
Hideo Mimuro, Junko Shimizu, Akira Matsui, Nobuaki Kobayashi,
and Yuichiro Yamashiro
81 HIV and AIDS and Its Impact on Child Well-Being . . . . . . . . . . 2355

Eddy J. Walakira, Ismael Ddumba-Nyanzi, and
David Kaawa-Mafigiri
82 Cultural Roots of Well-Being and Resilience in Child

Mental Health . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2379
Mónica Ruiz-Casares, Jaswant Guzder, Cécile Rousseau, and
Laurence J. Kirmayer
83 Body Image and Child Well-Being . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2409

Kristina Holmqvist Gattario, Ann Frisén, and Eileen Anderson-Fye
Section XIV Well-Being and Children’s Rights . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2437

84 United Nations Convention on the Rights of the Child
and Child Well-Being . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2439
Laura Lundy
xx Contents
85 Implementation of the Convention on the Rights of the

Child and Its Effect on Child Well-Being . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2463
Yehualashet Mekonen and Melhiku Tiruneh
86 Child Participation, Constituent of Community Well-Being . . . . 2503

Alejandro Cusiianovich Villarán and Marta Martı́nez Muñoz
87 Children’s Perspectives on Nurturance and
Self-Determination Rights: Implications for Development
and Well-Being . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2537
Martin D. Ruck, Michele Peterson-Badali, and Charles C. Helwig
88 “Because It’s the Right (or Wrong) Thing to Do”: When
Children’s Well-Being Is the Wrong Outcome . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2561
Gary B. Melton
Volume 5
Section XV Risk and Vulnerability . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2575

89 Complex Roots and Branches of Antisocial Behavior . . . . . . . . . 2577
Terje Ogden
90 Plight of Victims of School Bullying: The Opposite
of Well-Being . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2593
Dan Olweus and Kyrre Breivik
91 Crime Victimization and Child Well-Being . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2617
Tali Gal
92 Children at Risk: The Case of Latin American Street Youth . . . 2653
Marcela Raffaelli, Normanda Araujo de Morais, and
Silvia H. Koller
93 Maltreated Children . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2669
Ignacia Arruabarrena
Section XVI Methods, Measures and Indicators .............. 2697

94 Objective or Subjective Well-Being? . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2699
Nick Axford, David Jodrell, and Tim Hobbs
95 Methodologies Used in the Construction of Composite
Child Well-Being Indices . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2739
Vicki L. Lamb and Kenneth C. Land
96 Researching Children: Research on, with, and by Children . . . . 2757
Jan Mason and Elizabeth Watson
97 Mapping Domains and Indicators of Children’s Well-Being . . . 2797
Bong Joo Lee
Contents xxi
98 Indices of Child Well-Being and Developmental Contexts . . . . . 2807

Kristin Anderson Moore, David Murphey, Tawana Bandy, and
Elizabeth Lawner
99 Positive and Protective Factors in Adolescent Well-Being . . . . . 2823
Laura H. Lippman, Renee Ryberg, Mary Terzian,
Kristin A. Moore, Jill Humble, and Hugh McIntosh
100 Different Sources of Information . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2867
Robert M. Goerge
101 Mixed Methods in Research on Child Well-Being . . . . . . . . . . . . 2879
M. Clara Barata and Hirokazu Yoshikawa
102 Ethics of Researching Children’s Well-Being . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2895

Virginia Morrow and Jo Boyden
Section XVII Interventions and Policies that Promote Child

Well-Being . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2919
103 Overview: Social Policies and Child Well-Being . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2921
Jonathan Bradshaw
104 Children in State Care . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2945

Jorge F. del Valle
105 Child Protection and Child Well-Being . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2965
Lawrence M. Berger and Kristen Shook Slack
106 Key Elements and Strategies of Effective Early Childhood

Education Programs: Lessons from the Field . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2993
C. Momoko Hayakawa and Arthur J. Reynolds
107 Advancing Child and Adolescent Well-Being Through

Positive Youth Development and Prevention Programs . . . . . . . 3025
Laura Ferrer-Wreder
108 Data-Based Child Advocacy . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3043
William P. O’Hare
Section XVIII Global Issues in Child Well-Being . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3069

109 Reflections on the Well-Being of Child Soldiers . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3071
David M. Rosen
110 Migration and Child Well-Being . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3101
Chadi Abdul-Rida and Bernhard Nauck
111 Well-Being of Asylum-Seeking and Refugee Children . . . . . . . . 3143

Charles Watters
xxii Contents
112 Child Well-Being and Ethnic Diversity in Affluent Societies . . . . 3159

Donald J. Hernandez
113 Globalization and Children’s Welfare . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3193

Peter N. Stearns
114 International Comparisons of Child Well-Being . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3219
Dominic Richardson
Index . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3249
Contributors
Chadi Abdul-Rida Department of Sociology, Chemnitz University of Technol-

ogy, Chemnitz, Germany
Ingrid Agud Department of Theory and History of Education, University
of Barcelona, Mundet, Campus Mundet, Llevant, Barcelona, Spain
Anna Aizer Department of Economics, Brown University, Providence, RI, USA
Mimi Ajzenstadt Institute of Criminology, Faculty of Law and the Baerwald
School of Social Work and Social Welfare, The Hebrew University of Jerusalem,
Jerusalem, Israel
Leena Alanen Department of Education, University of Jyv€askyl€a, Jyv€askyl€a,
Finland
Eileen Anderson-Fye Department of Anthropology, Case Western Reserve
University, Cleveland, OH, USA
Sabine Andresen Faculty of Educational Science, IDeA Research Center on
Adaptive Education and Indivdual Development on Children at Risk, Goethe-
University Frankfurt, Frankfurt, Germany
Ignacia Arruabarrena Department of Social Psychology, University of the
Basque Country UPV/EHU, San Sebastián, Spain
Robert Atkins Rutgers University, Camden, NJ, USA
Nick Axford The Social Research Unit, Lower Hood Barn, Dartington, UK
Ana Ayuste Department of Theory and History of Education, University of
Barcelona, Mundet, Campus Mundet, Llevant, Barcelona, Spain
Alexander Bagattini Philosophisches Institut, Universit€at D€usseldorf,
D€
usseldorf, Germany
Marian J. Bakermans-Kranenburg Centre for Child and Family Studies, Leiden
University, Leiden, The Netherlands
Anna Bandt Center for International Studies in Social Policy and Social Services,
Bergische Universit€at Wuppertal, Wuppertal, Germany
xxiii
xxiv Contributors
Tawana Bandy Child Trends, Bethesda, MD, USA

Kurt Bangert World Vision Institute for Research and Innovation, Friedrichsdorf,
Germany
M. Clara Barata Instituto Universitário de Lisboa (ISCTE-IUL), CIS-IUL,
Lisbon, Portugal
Margaret M. Barry Health Promotion Research Centre, Galway, Ireland
Discipline of Health Promotion, School of Health Sciences, National University of
Ireland, Galway, Ireland
Mona Bekkhus Department of Psychology, University of Oslo, Oslo, Norway
Deborah Belle Department of Psychology, Boston University, Boston, MA, USA
Asher Ben-Arieh Paul Baerwald School of Social Work and Social Welfare,
The Hebrew University of Jerusalem, Jerusalem, Israel
Joyce Benenson Emmanuel College, Boston, MA, USA
Janel Benson Department of Sociology and Anthropology, Colgate University,
Hamilton, NY, USA
Peter L. Benson Minneapolis, MN, USA
Lawrence M. Berger School of Social Work and Institute for Research on
Poverty, University of Wisconsin – Madison, Madison, WI, USA
Kirsten Besemer Institute of Housing, Urban and Real Estate Research, Heriot
Watt University, Edinburgh, Scotland
Celine Blanchard School of Psychology, Ottawa University, Ontario, Canada
Jolyn Blank Department of Childhood Education & Literacy Studies, University
of South Florida, Tampa, FL, USA
Lukas Blinka Institute of Journalism and Communication, University of Tartu,
Tartu, Estonia
Faculty of Social Studies, Masaryk University, Brno, Czech Republic
Anne Inger Helmen Borge Department of Psychology, University of Oslo, Oslo,
Norway
Michael Bourdillon Department of Sociology, University of Zimbabwe,
Mt Pleasant, Harare, Zimbabwe
Lucy Bowes Centre for Mental Health, Addiction and Suicide Research, School of
Social and Community Medicine, University of Bristol, Bristol, UK
Jo Boyden Young Lives Oxford Department of International Development,
University of Oxford, Oxford, UK
Contributors xxv
Bruce Bradbury Social Policy Research Centre, University of New South Wales,
Sydney, Australia
Jonathan Bradshaw Department of Social Policy and Social Work, University of
York, Heslington, York, UK
Kyrre Breivik Uni Health, Uni Research, Bergen, Norway
Sally Brinkman Telethon Institute for Child Health Research, Centre for Child
Health Research, The University of Western Australia, Crawley, WA, Australia
Ragnhild Brusdal SIFO (National Institute for Consumer Research), Nydalen,
Oslo, Norway
Sonia Byrne University of La Laguna, La Laguna, Spain
André H. Caron Département de communication, Université de Montréal,
Montréal, Canada
Sonia Carrillo Universidad de los Andes, Bogotá, Colombia
Cynthia Carter Cardiff School of Journalism, Media and Cultural Studies,
Cardiff University, Cardiff, Wales, UK
Ferran Casas Faculty of Education and Psychology, Research Institute of Quality
of Life, University of Girona, Girona, Spain
Gabriella Conti Harris School of Public Policy Studies, University of Chicago,
Chicago, IL, USA
William A. Corsaro Department of Sociology, Indiana University, Bloomington,
IN, USA
Claudia J. Coulton Mandel School of Applied Social Sciences, Case Western
Reserve University, Cleveland, OH, USA
Robert A. Cummins School of Psychology, Deakin University, Melbourne, VIC,
Australia
Alejandro Cusiianovich Villarán Universidad Nacional Mayor de San Marcos –
Instituto de Formación para Educadores de Jóvenes, Adolescentes y Niños
Trabajadores de América Latina y el Caribe (UNMSM-IFEJANT), Lince, Peru
Ismael Ddumba-Nyanzi Department of Social Work and Social Administration,
Center for the Study of the African Child and Center for Social Science Research on
AIDS, Makerere University, Kampala, Uganda
Jaap E. Doek Family and Juvenile Law, Vrije Universiteit, Lisse, The
Netherlands
Joseph J. Doyle, Jr. MIT Sloan School of Management E62-515, Cambridge,
MA, USA
xxvi Contributors
Howard Dubowitz Division of Child Protection & Center for Families, University
of Maryland School of Medicine, Baltimore, MD, USA
Michael Egilson Child Health Indicators Project Lead, British Columbia Ministry
of Health, Victoria, BC, Canada
Florencia Enghel Media and Communication Studies, Karlstad University,

Karlstad, Sweden
Anna Escobedo Department of Sociology and Organisational Analysis,

Faculty of Economics and Management, University of Barcelona, Barcelona,
Spain
Ruth Evans Department of Geography and Environmental Science, University of

Reading, Reading, UK
Susann Fegter Faculty of Educational Sciences, Goethe University, Frankfurt am

Main, Germany
Elizabeth Fernandez School of Social Sciences, The University of New South

Wales, Sydney, NSW, Australia
Laura Ferrer-Wreder Department of Psychology, Stockholm University,

Stockholm, Sweden
Lluı́s Flaquer Department of Sociology, Universitat Autònoma de Barcelona,

Bellaterra, Spain
Divina Frau-Meigs Media Sociology and English Department, University

Sorbonne Nouvelle, PRES Sorbonne Paris-Cité, Paris, France
Oddgeir Friborg Departement of Psychology, University of Tromsø, Tromsø,

Norway
Ann Frisén Department of Psychology, University of Gothenburg, Gothenburg,

Sweden
Ivar Frønes Department of Sociology and Human Geography, University of Oslo,

Oslo, Norway
The Norwegian Center for Child Behavioural Development, University of Oslo,
Oslo, Norway
Lourdes Gaitán Grupo de Sociologı́a de la Infancia y la Adolescencia, Las Matas,

Madrid, Spain
Tali Gal School of Criminology, University of Haifa, Haifa, Israel
James Garbarino Psychology Department, Loyola University Chicago, Chicago,

IL, USA
Contributors xxvii
Francisco Juan Garcı́a Bacete Departamento de Psicologia Evolutiva,

Educativa, Social i Metodologia, Facultad de Ciencias Sociales y Humanas,
Universitat Jaume I, Castellon, Spain
Shirley Gatenio-Gabel Graduate School of Social Service, Fordham University,

New York, NY, USA
Robert M. Goerge Chapin Hall at the University of Chicago, Chicago, IL, USA
Mònica González Faculty of Education and Psychology, Research Institute on

Quality of Life, University of Girona, Girona, Spain
Christopher Greeley Department of Pediatrics, Center for Clinical Research and

Evidence-Based Medicine, University of Texas Health Sciences Center at Houston,
Houston, TX, USA
Bjørn Grinde Division of Mental Health, Norwegian Institute of Public Health,

Oslo, Norway
Daphna Gross-Manos Paul Baerwald School of Social Work and Social Welfare,
The Hebrew University of Jerusalem, Jerusalem, Israel
Maya G€ otz International Center Institute for Youth and Educational Television
(IZI), Bavarian Broadcasting Corporation, Munich, Germany
Jaswant Guzder Division of Social & Transcultural Psychiatry, McGill Univer-

sity, Montreal, QC, Canada
Culture & Mental Health Research Unit, Institute of Community & Family
Psychiatry, Jewish General Hospital, Montreal, Canada
Daniel Hart Institute for Effective Education, Rutgers University, Camden,

NJ, USA
C. Momoko Hayakawa University of Minnesota, Institute of Child Development,

Minneapolis, MN, USA
Bruce Headey Melbourne Institute, University of Melbourne, Melbourne,

Australia
James J. Heckman Department of Economics, University of Chicago, Chicago,

IL, USA
University College Dublin, Dublin, Ireland
American Bar Foundation, Chicago, IL, USA
Charles C. Helwig University of Toronto, Toronto, ON, Canada
Donald J. Hernandez Department of Sociology, Hunter College and the Graduate

Center, City University of New York, New York, NY, USA
xxviii Contributors
Kimberly J. Hills Department of Psychology, University of South Carolina,

Columbia, SC, USA
Tim Hobbs The Social Research Unit, Lower Hood Barn, Dartington, UK
George W. Holden Department of Psychology, Southern Methodist University,
Dallas, TX, USA
Kristina Holmqvist Gattario Department of Psychology, University of
Gothenburg, Gothenburg, Sweden
Arne Holte Norwegian Institute of Public Health, Oslo, Norway
E. Scott Huebner Department of Psychology, University of South Carolina,
Columbia, SC, USA
Jill Humble Child Trends, Bethesda, MD, USA
Jennie M. Hwang Département de communication, Université de Montréal,
Montréal, Canada
Marinus H. van IJzendoorn Centre for Child and Family Studies, Leiden
University, Leiden, The Netherlands
Adeline Jabès Laboratories of Cognitive Neuroscience, Department of Develop-
mental Medicine, Boston Children’s Hospital and Harvard Medical School, Boston,
MA, USA
Xu Jiang Department of Psychology, University of South Carolina, Columbia,
SC, USA
David Jodrell The Social Research Unit, Lower Hood Barn, Dartington, UK
Thomas Jozefiak Department of Child and Adolescent Psychiatry, St. Olav’s
Hospital–Trondheim University Hospital, Trondheim, Norway
Femmie Juffer Centre for Child and Family Studies, Leiden University, Leiden,
The Netherlands
David Kaawa-Mafigiri Department of Social Work and Social Administration,
Center for the Study of the African Child and Center for Social Science Research on
AIDS, Makerere University, Kampala, Uganda
Cigdem Kagitcibasi Koc University, Sariyer, Istanbul, Turkey
Veronika Kalmus Institute of Journalism and Communication, University of
Tartu, Tartu, Estonia
Sheila B. Kamerman Columbia University School of Social Work, New York,
NY, USA
Heidi Keller Faculty of Human Sciences, University of Osnabr€uck, Osnabrueck,
Germany
Contributors xxix
Ryan Kelly Department of Psychology, University of South Carolina, Columbia,

SC, USA
Laurence J. Kirmayer Division of Social & Transcultural Psychiatry, McGill
University, Montreal, QC, Canada
Culture & Mental Health Research Unit, Institute of Community & Family
Psychiatry, Jewish General Hospital, Montreal, Canada
Nobuaki Kobayashi The Supporting Network for Chronic Sick Children of Japan,
Hongo, Bunkyo-ku, Tokyo, Japan
Noboru Kobayashi Child Research Net c/o Benesse Corporation, Tokyo, Japan
Silvia H. Koller Department of Psychology, Universidade Federal do Rio Grande
do Sul, Nonoai, Porto Alegre, RS, Brazil
Jill E. Korbin Department of Anthropology, Schubert Center for Child Studies,
Case Western Reserve University, Cleveland, OH, USA
Vicki L. Lamb Department of Sociology, North Carolina Central University,
Durham, NC, USA
Kenneth C. Land Department of Sociology and Center for Population Health and
Aging, Duke University, Durham, NC, USA
Elizabeth Lawner Child Trends, Bethesda, MD, USA
Penelope Leach Institute for the Study of Children, Families & Social Issues,
Birkbeck. University of London, Lewes, East Sussex, UK
Bonnie Leadbeater Department of Psychology, University of Victoria, Victoria,
BC, Canada
Bong Joo Lee Department of Social Welfare, College of Social Sciences, Seoul
National University, Seoul, Republic of Korea
Ratib Lekhal Division of Mental Health, Norwegian Institute of Public Health,
Oslo, Norway
Dafna Lemish College of Mass Communication & Media Arts, Southern Illinois
University, Carbondale, IL, USA
Laura H. Lippman Child Trends, Bethesda, MD, USA
Knut Løndal Oslo and Akershus University College, Oslo, Norway
Khin Yee Lo Griffith University, Brisbane, Queensland, Australia
Sigmund Loland The Norwegian School of Sport Sciences, Ullevål Stadion,
Oslo, Norway
Rachel F. Long Department of Psychology, University of South Carolina,
Columbia, SC, USA
xxx Contributors
Laura Lundy Centre for Children’s Rights, Queen’s University School of

Education, Belfast, Northern Ireland
Scott Lyon UCW program, Rome, Italy
Michael D. Lyons Department of Psychology, University of South Carolina,
Columbia, SC, USA
Gill Main Department of Social Policy and Social Work, The University of York,
York, North Yorkshire, UK
Ghislaine Marande Perrin Departamento de Psicologia Evolutiva, Educativa,
Social i Metodologia, Facultad de Ciencias Sociales y Humanas, Universitat
Jaume I, Castellon, Spain
Nic Marks Centre of Well-being, New Economics Foundation, London, UK
Marta Martı́nez Muñoz Complutense University of Madrid, Madrid, Spain
Jan Mason School of Social Sciences & Psychology, University of Western
Sydney, Penrith South DC, NSW, Australia
Kyle Matsuba Kwantlen University, Richmond, Canada
Akira Matsui National Center for Child Health and Development, Okura,
Setagaya, Tokyo, Japan
Koji Matsunobu School of Music, University of Queensland, St. Lucia, QLD,
Australia
Colette McAuley School of Social and International Studies, University of
Bradford, Bradford, England, UK
Megan M. McClelland Hallie Ford Center for Healthy Children and Families,
Oregon State University College of Public Health and Human Sciences, Corvallis,
OR, USA
Hugh McIntosh Child Trends, Bethesda, MD, USA
John H. McKendrick School of Law and Social Sciences, Glasgow Caledonian
University, Glasgow, UK
Courtney L. Meehan Department of Anthropology, Washington State University,
Pullman, WA, USA
Yehualashet Mekonen The African Child Policy Forum (ACPF), Addis Ababa,
Ethiopia
Gary B. Melton The Kempe Center, University of Colorado School of Medicine,
Aurora, Colorado, USA
Edward Metz US Department of Education, Institute of Education Sciences,
Washington, DC, USA
Contributors xxxi
Alicia Miao Human Development and Family Sciences, Oregon State University
College of Public Health and Human Sciences, Corvallis, OR, USA
Hideo Mimuro Tokyo Metropolitan Komei Special Needs Education School for
the Physically Challenged, Tokyo, Japan
Wayne Mitic Department of Psychology, University of Victoria, Victoria, BC,
Canada
Kristin Anderson Moore Child Trends, Bethesda, MD, USA
Tim Moore Centre for Community Child Health, Murdoch Childrens Research
Institute, The Royal Children’s Hospital Melbourne, Parkville, VIC, Australia
Araujo Normanda de Morais Programa de Pós Graduação em Psicologia,
Universidade de Fortaleza, Fortaleza, Ceará, Brazil
Jo Moran-Ellis Department of Sociology, University of Surrey, Guildford,
Surrey, UK
Virginia Morrow Young Lives Oxford Department of International Develop-
ment, University of Oxford, Oxford, UK
Ruud Muffels School of Social and Behavioral Sciences and Reflect, Tilburg
University, Tilburg, Netherlands
David Murphey Child Trends, Bethesda, MD, USA
Agnes Nairn UPR Marches et Innovation, EM-Lyon Business School, Ecully,
France
Bernhard Nauck Department of Sociology, Chemnitz University of Technology,
Chemnitz, Germany
Dolors Navarro Faculty of Education and Psychology, Research Institute on
Quality of Life, University of Girona, Girona, Spain
Charles A. Nelson Laboratories of Cognitive Neuroscience, Department of
Developmental Medicine, Boston Children’s Hospital and Harvard Medical
School, Boston, MA, USA
Ragnhild Bang Nes Division of Mental Health, Norwegian Institute of Public
Health, Oslo, Norway
Harriet Bjerrum Nielsen Centre for Gender Research, University of Oslo, Oslo,
Norway
Kengo Nishimaki National Institute of Special Needs Education, Nobi, Yokosuk,
Kanagawa, Japan
Frank Oberklaid Centre for Community Child Health, Murdoch Childrens
Research Institute, The Royal Children’s Hospital Melbourne, Parkville, VIC,
Australia
xxxii Contributors
Terje Ogden Norwegian Center for Child Behavioral Development, Unirand,

University of Oslo, Majorstuen, Oslo, Norway
William P. O’Hare O’Hare Data and Demographic Services, LLC, Ellicott City,
MD, USA
Dan Olweus Uni Health, Uni Research and University of Bergen, Bergen, Norway
Yngvar Ommundsen The Norwegian School of Sport Sciences, Ullevål Stadion,
Oslo, Norway
Manisha Pathak-Shelat School of Journalism and Mass Communication,
University of Wisconsin-Madison, Madison, WI, USA
Michele Peterson-Badali University of Toronto, Toronto, ON, Canada
Jens Qvortrup Department of Sociology and Political Science, Norwegian
University of Science and Technology, Trondheim, Norway
Marcela Raffaelli Department of Human & Community Development, University
of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign, Urbana, IL, USA
Sara Raley Department of Sociology, McDaniel College, Westminster, MD, USA
Gerry Redmond School of Social and Policy Studies, Flinders University,
Adelaide, South Australia, Australia
Arthur J. Reynolds University of Minnesota, Institute of Child Development,
Dominic Richardson Social Policy Division, Department of Employment,
Labour and Social Affairs (DELSA), Organization for Economic Co-operation
and Development, Paris, France
Martina Richter Institute of Social Work, Education and Sports Science, Univer-
sity of Vechta, Vechta, Germany
Karen Ripoll-Núñez Universidad de los Andes, Bogotá, Colombia
Beatriz Rodrı́guez University of La Laguna, La Laguna, Spain
Marı́a José Rodrigo University of La Laguna, La Laguna, Spain
Eugene C. Roehlkepartain Search Institute, Minneapolis, MN, USA
Furio Camillo Rosati Faculty of Economics, University of Rome “Tor Vergata”,
Rome, Italy
Wendy Rose School of Social Sciences, Cardiff University, Cardiff, UK
David M. Rosen Department of Social Sciences and History, Fairleigh Dickinson
University, Madison, NJ, USA
Contributors xxxiii
Cécile Rousseau Division of Social & Transcultural Psychiatry, McGill Univer-

sity, Montreal, QC, Canada
Espen Røysamb Department of Psychology, University of Oslo, Oslo, Norway
Martin D. Ruck The Graduate Center, City University of New York, New York,
NY, USA
Mónica Ruiz-Casares Division of Social & Transcultural Psychiatry, McGill
University, Montreal, QC, Canada
Centre for Research on Children and Families, McGill University, Montreal,
Canada
Renee Ryberg Child Trends, Bethesda, MD, USA
Yoichi Sakakihara Graduate School of Humanities and Science, Ochanomizu
University, Tokyo, Japan
Bengt Sandin Department of Thematic Studies/Child Studies, University of
Link€
oping, Link€
oping, Sweden
Peter C. Scales Search Institute, Manchester, MO, USA
Barry H. Schneider School of Psychology, Ottawa University, Ontario, Canada
Christie Schoenmaker Centre for Child and Family Studies, Leiden University,
Leiden, The Netherlands
Arturo Sesma, Jr. St. Catherine University, St. Paul, MN, USA
Richard A. Settersten, Jr. Hallie Ford Center for Healthy Children and Families,
Oregon State University College of Public Health and Human Sciences, Corvallis,
OR, USA
Junko Shimizu Tokyo Metropolitan Komei Special Needs Education School for
the Physically Challenged, Tokyo, Japan
Andra Siibak Institute of Journalism and Communication, University of Tartu,
Tartu, Estonia
Philip E. Silvey Eastman School of Music, University of Rochester, Rochester,
NY, USA
Kristen Shook Slack School of Social Work and Institute for Research on
Poverty, University of Wisconsin – Madison, Madison, WI, USA
James C. Spilsbury Center for Clinical Investigation, Case School of Medicine,
Cleveland, OH, USA
Ellen Handler Spitz Honors College and the Department of Visual Arts, Univer-
sity of Maryland (UMBC), Baltimore, MD, USA
xxxiv Contributors
Fiona Stanley Telethon Institute for Child Health Research, Centre for Child
Health Research, The University of Western Australia, Crawley, WA, Australia
Peter N. Stearns George Mason University, Fairfax, VA, USA
Edward G. J. Stevenson Department of Anthropology, University College
London, London, UK
Heinz S€ unker Center for International Studies in Social Policy and Social
Services, Bergische Universit€at Wuppertal, Wuppertal, Germany
Amy K. Syvertsen Search Institute, Minneapolis, MN, USA
Mary Terzian Child Trends, Bethesda, MD, USA
Jens C. Thimm Departement of Psychology, University of Tromsø, Tromsø,
Norway
Ross A. Thompson Department of Psychology, University of California, Davis,
CA, USA
Barrie Thorne Departments of Sociology and of Gender and Women’s Studies,
University of California, Berkeley, Berkeley, CA, USA
Habib Tiliouine Department of Psychology and Educational Sciences, Laboratory
of Educational Processes & Social Context (Labo-PECS), University of Oran,
Oran, Algeria
Melhiku Tiruneh The African Child Information Hub, Addis Ababa, Ethiopia
Svenn Torgersen Centre for Child and Adolescence Mental Health, Eastern and
Southern Norway, Oslo, Norway
Jaume Trilla Department of Theory and History of Education, University of
Barcelona, Mundet, Campus Mundet, Llevant, Barcelona, Spain
Gisela Trommsdorff Department of Psychology, University of Konstanz,
Konstanz, Germany
Jorge F. del Valle Child and Family Research Group, Faculty of Psychology,
University of Oviedo, Oviedo, Asturias, Spain
Jan Van Gils International Council for Children’s Play, Mechelen, Belgium
Ruut Veenhoven Erasmus Happiness Economics Research Organization,
Erasmus University, Rotterdam, Netherlands
North–West University, Potchefstroom, South Africa
Joar Vittersø Departement of Psychology, University of Tromsø, Tromsø,
Norway
Trine Waaktaar Centre for Child and Adolescence Mental Health, Eastern and
Southern Norway, Oslo, Norway
Contributors xxxv
Gert G. Wagner DIW (German Institute for Economic Research), Berlin,

Germany
Eddy J. Walakira Department of Social Work and Social Administration, Center
for the Study of the African Child and Center for Social Science Research on AIDS,
Makerere University, Kampala, Uganda
Catharina Elisabeth Arfwedson Wang Departement of Psychology, University
of Tromsø, Tromsø, Norway
Elizabeth Watson School of Social Sciences & Psychology, University of
Western Sydney, Penrith South DC, NSW, Australia
Charles Watters Department of Childhood Studies, Rutgers, The State University
of New Jersey, Camden, NJ, USA
Thomas S. Weisner Departments of Psychiatry (Semel Institute, Center for
Culture & Health) & Anthropology, UCLA, Los Angeles, CA, USA
Paul Alan Williamson Department of Psychology, Southern Methodist Univer-
sity, Dallas, TX, USA
Helmut Wintersberger Vienna, Austria
Bente Wold Department of Health Promotion and Development, University of
Bergen, Bergen, Norway
Carol M. Worthman Laboratory for Comparative Human Biology, Department
of Anthropology, Emory University, Atlanta, GA, USA
Yuichiro Yamashiro Probiotics Research Laboratory, Juntendo University
Graduate School of Medicine, Hongo, Bunkyo-ku, Tokyo, Japan
Hirokazu Yoshikawa Harvard Graduate School of Education, Cambridge,
MA, USA
Henrik Daae Zachrisson Norwegian Center for Child Behavioral Development,
Oslo, Norway
Rita Žukauskienė Department of Psychology, Mykolas Romeris University,
Vilnius, Lithuania
Multifaceted Concept of Child Well-Being
1
Asher Ben-Arieh, Ferran Casas, Ivar Frønes, and Jill E. Korbin
Dictionary definitions of well-being emphasize a desirable state of being happy,

healthy, or prosperous; that is, well-being refers to both subjective feelings and
experiences as well as to living conditions. Well-being is also related to the
fulfillment of desires, to the balance of pleasure and pain, and to opportunities for
development and self-fulfillment. The concept refers to the qualities of life and to
the many possible dimensions of a good or bad life. The breadth and heterogeneity
of the idea of well-being is illustrated in human rights treaties, including the UN
Convention on the Rights of the Child (CRC). Rights are implicitly understood as
creating well-being or opportunities for well-being, referring to the quality of
children’s lives economically and emotionally; to their psychological states; to
their material, social, and cultural environments; as well as to their development
and to realizing their potentials.
Co-editorship of the Handbook, and authorship of this chapter are in alphabetical order.
A. Ben-Arieh (*)
Paul Baerwald School of Social Work and Social Welfare, The Hebrew University of Jerusalem,
Jerusalem, Israel
e-mail: [email protected]
F. Casas
Faculty of Education and Psychology, Research Institute of Quality of Life, University of Girona,
Girona, Spain
I. Frønes
Department of Sociology and Human Geography, University of Oslo, Oslo, Norway
The Norwegian Center for Child Behavioural Development, University of Oslo, Oslo, Norway
J.E. Korbin
Department of Anthropology, Schubert Center for Child Studies, Case Western Reserve
University, Cleveland, OH, USA
A. Ben-Arieh et al. (eds.), Handbook of Child Well-Being, 1

DOI 10.1007/978-90-481-9063-8_134, # Springer Science+Business Media Dordrecht 2014
2 A. Ben-Arieh et al.
Perspectives on well-being provide a common ground for scholarly study and

for diverse systems of indicators. The field bridges research and policymaking.
These integrative functions are rooted both in the multidimensional character
and in the normative core of the concept itself. The focus is on the level of
well-being, the scale ranging from good to bad, involving implicit or explicit
normative assessments. These judgments entail normative discourses – what is
good or bad on the many dimensions of well-being – as part of analyses. The
focus on children’s well-being is also sensitive to children’s vulnerability;
children are especially at risk with regard to adverse trends and this risk factor
is reflected in the number of organizations and institutions dedicated to the
protection of children.
A look at some of the titles behind the nearly 1,000,000,000 internet hits
for “well-being and children” illustrates the multifaceted nature of the concept.
Articles and headlines brought up by such a search refer to material well-being,
emotional well-being, families and well-being, upbringing and well-being,
health and well-being, and to a myriad of subthemes like social capital in
relation to well-being, unintended pregnancy and well-being, and sickness and
well-being – in short a plethora of themes can be found related to well-being and
children. This implies not only that the concept of well-being is regarded as
fruitful from many perspectives but also that it is a valuable perspective on all
aspects of children’s lives. The heterogeneity of the concept not only makes it
relevant to different perspectives but also gives a common direction to distinct
studies in different domains.
In disciplines and domains related to the development of policies and treatments,
improvement in well-being has always been the point of departure. The increased
monitoring of children’s lives through the development of indicators and the
explicit relationships between indicators and policies has brought normative assess-
ments into most studies of childhood and children. Well-being represents
a conceptual framework that merges empirical studies and normative assessments
as it also bridges policies and research.
As the perspective of GDP and “standard of living” were gradually recognized as
too narrow to grasp desired societal outcomes of economic policies, well-being
became the point at which political, theoretical, and empirical perspectives on
welfare and development converged. As an analytical and normative point of
departure, the concept of well-being represents not only a new perspective on the
quality of life and on positive and negative developments on the macro or societal
level but also a framework fulfilling what Fitoussi et al. (2010) refer to as the
multiple purposes of measurements that may capture details on the microlevels of
lived experience.
Well-being refers to individuals as well as to societies and to trends as well as to
states. The concept as implemented in research and policy encourages not only
measuring well-being but also reflecting on the very idea of what well-being is, on
the different domains and related perspectives, and on the individual, group, and
global levels. Well-being is the conceptual focal point for assessing the state of
children and the discourses on their status.
1 Multifaceted Concept of Child Well-Being 3
1.1 The Meaning of Well-Being
The Constitution of the World Health Organization states that “Health is a state of
complete physical, mental and social well-being, and not merely the absence of
disease or infirmity.” The WHO statement also illustrates that well-being does not
refer primarily to the moment, but to something that lasts over time, even if there is
some overlap with happiness and the subjective experiences of the moment. The
boundaries of the notion of well-being are elastic; in spite of this, the fact that
the concept can convey a reasonable précis, as illustrated by the WHO statement,
made well-being a functional concept after the discourse on societal development
and welfare transcended the perspective of GDP. The ability to work on different
levels, themes, and perspectives, and the association with happiness as well as
welfare, makes the notion of well-being functional for many purposes.
In philosophy the well-being of a person in general refers to what is good for the
individual from their own perspective. The hedonist equation of well-being as the
best possible balance between pain and pleasure makes intuitive sense at one level
but is problematic at another. The sum of all subjective facets of well-being do not
necessarily aggregate to what may be best at the macro level, as illustrated by the
detrimental effect that consumption has in global considerations. The tensions
among subjective and objective well-being and its indicators, between the moment
and possible future consequences, and between the individual and the macro level
illustrate the challenges of theorizing well-being.
This is even more complex in relation to children; well-being encompasses both
children’s lives in the present and how the present influences their future and their
development. Children’s development is not a delimited psychological issue but is
related to characteristics at the societal level; various societies not only influence
social and cognitive development in various ways but require different levels of
competencies for members at different ages or of different genders. The emphasis
of the CRC (a legally binding normative instrument setting the standards for
children’s well-being in a series of domains in life), which underlines that the
child has a right to education and to “develop its personality and abilities to the
fullest” (Article 29), is implicitly related to the evolution of the educational
knowledge society. Such norms are not detailed prescriptions. For example, general
agreement on the principle that children should not live in poverty requires an
elaboration of what poverty for children implies; underscoring the child’s right to
develop his or her potential illustrates that poverty cannot be delimited by a purely
material standard.
Ongoing considerations with respect to child development from a global vantage
point require further elaboration of the understanding of well-being as related to
multiple perspectives, positions, and domains. The evaluation of the distribution of
well-being with regard to children is especially complex because children are
developing and because they are dependent on caretakers on the micro level as
well as on politics and economy at the macro level. Children’s well-being is rooted
in the interplay of a series of factors on the micro level, framed by the social
structures of the wider society.
The CRC emphasized children’s rights in general terms but did not go further
into the relations between rights, freedom, and development. These relations are
complex. For example, economic growth may be related to well-being not through
subjective mirroring of wealth and income but through material standards that
result in benefits to a population. Commodities are a means to an end; the point is
to understand what one can achieve with resources, which is related to both
opportunity structures and the agency of the subject (Sen 1999).
Freedom is related not only to the right to use one’s resources in accordance with
one’s own preferences but also to the capacity to transform resources into valuable
activities. Related to children, the development of capacities to transform resources
into valuable activities is an essential part of well-being. Values are not only subject
to variation among individuals or groups and between these levels of organization
as well, but values vary with capacities for reflection. In regard to children this
implies that the right to well-being involves the right to the development of
capacities for reflection as well as the right to freedom of choice. At the macro
level well-being will be related to freedom not only in an abstract way but to the
fairness of the actual distribution of opportunities. The well-being of a nation is
related to both the sum of well-being and to its distribution.
Aristotle underlined the pursuit of happiness alone as shallow; the good life for
humans is to be understood in terms of the virtuous activities of humans, aimed at
meeting a worthwhile purpose. From this perspective, well-being comprises more
than individual happiness or individual wealth; it is rather a measure of carefully
considered productivity and engagement.
1.2 Complex Roots of Well-Being
Happiness is in general understood as a basic indicator of subjective well-being, yet one

that is difficult to capture by measurement. The Easterlin paradox states that after
reaching a level where basic needs are covered, increased income on a national level
does not increase the general level of happiness. Others argue that there is a relationship
(Hagerty and Veenhoven 2003). The discourses on quality of life illustrate the many
dimensions of well-being and the complex relations between subjective and objective
indicators of a good life; they underscore that well-being is not identical to the
indicators of the standard of living. Poverty may engender a lack of subjective well-
being, but poverty itself is not identical to negative well-being. Reasonable standards of
living and freedom can be understood as prerequisites for positive well-being, but do
not represent happiness. Even though studies indicate a complex relationship between
happiness and contextual factors framing subjective experiences, objective indicators
of living conditions such as GNP are often used as indices of a good life. These
representational efforts may be rooted in tacit assumptions of a positive correlation
between objective indicators and subjective experiences as well as in the availability of
objective indicators. The composite “Human Development Index” measures quality of
life through interrelated assessments of life expectancy, wealth and education, with
well-being understood as the potential for a good life reflected by these indicators.
Studies of children’s well-being in general focus on trends in different groups and

on developmental foundations of well-being, addressing risk as well as what enables
children to flourish (Moore and Lippman 2005). On the micro level, achievements
seem to facilitate happiness (Howell 2009), and the level of well-being is influenced
by the reference groups with whom one compares himself or herself (Carbonell 2005).
Further, studies of well-being, and the system of indicators tracking this concept,
refer to specific areas of life and to the present as well as the future. In recent
decades the development of longitudinal datasets has expanded the possibilities for
studying the relationship between early childhood and later phases. Trajectories
identified are related not only to the life courses of children but also to societal
characteristics; for example, conditions in early childhood may predict unemploy-
ment in adulthood (Caspi et al. 1998), which is, in turn, related to the knowledge
economy. Longitudinal studies also provide new opportunities for studying the
relationship between biological and social factors and dynamics that through
developmental processes reinforce initial inequalities among children.
Sen (1999) illustrates that well-being is related to opportunity, to the capacity to
utilize distinct opportunities, as well as to the freedom to do so in correspondence
with one’s own preferences. As such, well-being is directly related to the perspec-
tives and needs of the individual understood within their social milieu. In this arena,
children’s own perspectives and voices have often been forgotten. Children are both
on their way to a future as adults, involving the rights to develop their abilities, and
they are citizens of the present, with the rights to immediate well-being as children.
This child-centered focus is one that must increasingly be incorporated in studies of
well-being.
1.2.1 Domains of Child Well-Being
Any comprehensive attempt to look at children’s well-being must balance the

various socioeconomic and cultural domains of children’s lives and be carefully
constructed to include current but historically often excluded subpopulations of
children, e.g., those with disabilities; indigenous minorities; very poor or isolated
populations; those separated from families; and those who are homeless, refugees,
or immigrants (Andrews and Ben-Arieh 1999).
Within each domain, preferences and values are socially based but they are not
socially determined; well-being emerges at the intersection of agency and society’s
frameworks. Within these frameworks, well-being is differentially pertinent and
must be differentially assessed. The complexity of the concept is indeed illustrated
by the tension among domains: Good well-being in one sector of life does not
immunize children from poor well-being in other domains. In part well-being is
related to domains because policies are sectored themselves. Housing policies, for
example, need information on children’s housing as well as on their particular
needs related to housing and these derive from different vantage points. When
UNICEF emphasizes children’s need for a place to do homework, the educational
society and the knowledge economy are contributing to the assessment of specific
educational needs related to children and their home environments; citizenship as

a domain is rooted in political ideology and rights.
Domains can be construed in various ways, based on differing perspectives and
methodologies. Key national indicators on well-being for American children focus
on indicators from seven domains: family and social environment, economic
circumstances, health care, physical environment and safety, behavior, education,
and health (Land et al. 2001). UNICEF’s Innocenti Report Card 7 (Adamson 2007)
refers to six dimensions of well-being: material well-being, health and safety,
educational well-being, family and peer relationships, behaviors and risks, and
subjective well-being (Bradshaw and Richardson 2009).
Domains can be assessed differently and that makes the process of measuring
well-being more complicated. Educational well-being can be evaluated with
subjective indicators such as children’s levels of enjoyment at school or by
objective indicators such as investment in education. In Report Card 7, educa-
tional well-being is indicated by an evaluation of scholastic performance. The set
of indicators not only represents different vantage points or values within
domains, but the domains themselves may be partly defined by an evaluative
approach. Take, for instance, the Gallup-Healthways Well-Being Index of US
residents’ health and well-being. This index refers to domains including life
evaluation, emotional health, physical health, healthy behavior, and work
environment. To this is added what is called “basic access”: a component of
well-being related to satisfaction with the community or area, economic situation,
access to medical treatment, health care, and other basic necessities. Many
measures on quality of life in the Gallup-Healthways Well-Being Index illustrate
that domains do not exist outside the realm of culture and ideology. Different
societies and different periods construct domains in different ways. As a result,
the assessment of well-being must be a culturally and historically particular
process prior to comparative or global treatments.
1.2.2 Historical Development of the Study of Well-Being
Reflections on present senses of “well-being” may be explored throughout history,

among philosophers, religions, literature, and so on. Different notions have existed
in different cultures and historical periods. What is good for children? What are the
qualities of a good life for children? How do standards of well-being change as
children develop? What are the goals of children’s development, education, and
socialization? The answers to such questions are related to beliefs, stereotypes,
values, “logics,” and social representations and should be examined by researchers
looking into how adults in a given society construct (1) childhood, (2) the social
problems and social needs of children involving social policies and requiring
social interventions, and (3) the best methods for solving children’s social problems
and requirements.
Studying the phenomenon of things going awry has been a major focus of
interest for human and social sciences. For example, for centuries medicine
concentrated on illness/disease/sickness. However, a few decades ago interest in

well-being began to complement the illness orientation: for example, through
health promotion. This change of perspective, from negatively valenced challenges
to positive constructs, is a silent but far-reaching revolution. Social and behavioral
scientists have also long emphasized the emergence and development of social
problems and only recently turned to studies promoting well-being or quality
of life. While historically psychology focused on curing mental illness, in 1969,
G.A. Miller, in his famous speech as new president of the American Psychological
Association, proposed to redefine psychology as a “means to promote human well-
being.” In recent decades many researchers have taken up this charge and moved to
focus on a new perspective, positive psychology, the psychology of positive human
functioning (Seligman 2002).
The contemporary history of the concept of well-being as linked to scientific
research (both basic and applied) shows two completely separate trajectories, both
of them starting in the twentieth century and developing independently for
some decades. One contemporary tradition of studying well-being comes
from the health sciences and the other one from the social sciences. The health
sciences situate their beginnings in the WHO constitution, in 1946, which states
that health is not only the absence of illness or disease but also the presence of
well-being. This principle has been repeated in several WHO documents in the
following decades and has promoted extensive research (Andelman et al. 1999;
WHO 1946, 1978).
The tradition in social sciences was by contrast born in association with the
so-called “social indicators movement” in the 1960s and appeared as an interdisci-
plinary approach involving economists, psychologists, sociologists, anthropolo-
gists, geographers, and other disciplinary experts. Bauer’s book on social
indicators (Bauer 1966) is considered by many to be the starting point for the
movement toward a new concept: “the quality of life (QOL).” By that period – the
end of the 1960s – serious attempts to develop significant research about people’s
happiness, psychological well-being or satisfaction with life, or specific domains of
life appeared and initiated important scientific debates (Casas 1989, 1991, 1996a).
After decades in which this phenomena has been considered subjective and
therefore “of no scientific value”, researchers have moved to develop different
theoretical conceptualizations and scientific models for QOL, trying to reconcile
material (“objective”) and nonmaterial (“subjective”) aspects of the human and
sociocultural environment.
Quality of life is defined as a construct articulating objective and subjective
measures of people’s conditions of living: It is a function of the material (Mcl) and
the psychosocial (PScl) conditions of living, that is to say, QOL ¼ f(Mcl, PScl).
Defining the material conditions of living is not new. However, defining psycho-
social conditions of living (measurable only with subjective indicators) is relatively
new and has initiated endless debates. Probably one of the more useful definitions
for psychosocial conditions of living was presented by Campbell et al. (1976) when
they proposed it should include perceptions, evaluations, and aspirations of people
on their own lives. This also became one of the best-known definitions of subjective
well-being. Many authors consider subjective well-being as closely related or

even synonymous with other psychologically positive constructs, particularly
“happiness” and “life satisfaction.”
Following Bauer’s introductory discussions, the concept of “QOL” was taken
immediately into health sciences research. Most authors working in this area started
to use the phrase as synonymous with well-being, thinking that well-being was rooted
in a much older tradition and, therefore, not a new concept. However, in social
sciences quality of life has never been considered synonymous with well-being but is
rather treated as a broader concept. During the last two decades, a new concept “H-R
QOL” (Health-Related Quality of Life) has created a pathway along which
a reciprocal understanding between the two disciplinary traditions may develop.
In the meanwhile, inside the social and behavioral sciences and particularly inside
psychology, the humanistic tradition made specific new contributions to debates on
subjective well-being developing a focus on “psychological well-being.” By contrast
with the mainstream hedonic tradition in social science relating good life to happiness
and satisfaction with overall life, authors in the alternative eudaimonic tradition
defend a good life as related to fulfillment, self-determination, and meaning.
The health-related tradition has contributed to the knowledge of child well-being
mainly with research focused on clinical populations, before and after health
interventions. The social sciences-related traditions began slowly focusing on
adult subjects moving on to issues of child well-being only several decades later.
Even with the move to studies of child well-being in the social and behavioral
disciplines, there was a particular reluctance to study children’s subjective
well-being.
In recent decades, there has been an increasing amount of research on children’s
and adolescents’ well-being in general (non-clinical) populations. Much of this
involves developing and testing psychometric instruments, most based on the
hedonic tradition with almost no instruments specific for children or adolescents
provided by the eudaimonic tradition. Additionally, recent years have shown an
increasing amount of qualitative research with children, related to their well-being.
With the number of indicators of well-being growing, it is notable that in many
situations, subjective and material components of QOL are not correlated. “Objec-
tive” measures by experts and “subjective” satisfaction of users of services may not
correlate at all. Years of debates have ultimately shown that what is scientifically
relevant in this regard is not the question “who is right?” but “why different
“observers” (i.e., social agents) disagree?” Sorting through the diverse measures
of well-being may be a first step to answering this question.
In recent years, a broad consensus among researchers has arisen, considering
psychological well-being a key component of QOL. Authors name this phenomena
subjective well-being (Diener 1984; Huebner 1991; Huebner et al. 1998), psycho-
logical well-being (Casas 1998; Ryff 1989), human well-being (Blanco et al. 2000),
social well-being (Keyes 1998), or subjective quality of life (Cummins and Cahill
2000). Starting with the 1960s (Bradburn 1969; Bradburn and Caplovitz 1965),
most authors today agree that well-being has an important subjective dimension and
that this dimension has an affective component related to the “happiness” concept.
Another important and more cognitive dimension of well-being is “satisfaction”

with life domains and with life as a whole. Both the affective and the cognitive
dimensions are considered indicators or outcomes of good psychological conditions
of living. Additionally, there is accumulated evidence in localized and cross-
cultural studies that well-being is correlated with other positive constructs such as
self-esteem, perceived control, perceived social support (Huebner 2004; Casas et al.
2007), values (Diener and Fujita 1995; Diener et al. 1998; Csikzentmihalyi 1997;
Coenders et al. 2005).
According to Diener’s (1984) review, there is a broad consensus that subjective
well-being has three basic characteristics: (1) It is grounded in each person’s
experiences, and in his or her perceptions and evaluations of such experiences;
(2) it includes positive measures and not only the absence of negative aspects; and
(3) it includes some overall evaluation of life, usually named “life satisfaction.”
However, since Andrews and Withey (1976) proposed a one-item life satisfaction
index, this has been widely used as a basic indicator of well-being although with
different formats (i.e., Cantrils’ ladder), and it has also been used with children and
adolescents. Some authors consider this single item a higher-order measure of well-
being (Cummins 1998) than the aggregated more focused measures, and it is fre-
quently combined in questionnaires with other multi-items scales. Satisfaction with
life as a whole is understood by many authors to be a global evaluation of life
(Veenhoven 1994). Overall life satisfaction (OLS) is considered “more than” satis-
faction with a set of life domains. On the other hand, life-domains satisfaction and
OLS can be explained both through individual and cultural differences (Diener 1984).
Many other authors have underlined how important satisfaction with specific life
domains is for personal well-being. In the scientific literature long discussions have
ensued about which are the most relevant life domains for an assessment of global
life satisfaction. Cummins (1998) considers life-domains satisfaction a second
order level and proposed the Personal Well-Being Index to evaluate life satisfaction
with only seven different primary life domains, which he hypothesizes are the most
cross-culturally relevant.
When the concept QOL was defined in the 1960s, its political implications were
“obvious”: Any society or any social group changing “for the better” would
improve the quality of the lives of its citizens. Any valuable service will improve
the quality of life of their clients or users. This implied that by improving material
conditions of living, the psychosocial conditions of living and QOL would improve.
However, while the meaning of “improving material conditions of living” is often
clear, it has never been easy to specify how to improve the “psychosocial conditions
of living” of a general population, particularly when subjective well-being is
included. Today we know that the quality of public services and relative wealth
do contribute to subjective well-being but less than expected, particularly for
people at median levels of QOL or above, as is typical in more industrialized
countries. Additionally there are external factors related to interpersonal relation-
ships that contribute to subjective well-being and may be difficult to measure.
At the beginning of the twenty-first century, the primary scholarly debate is focused
on two significant dimensions of subjective well-being – happiness and life
satisfaction. The crucial point can be formulated with a question mark: Should
governments develop policies aimed to increase citizens’ happiness or satisfaction
with life? What would such policies be like? (Veenhoven 2001).
1.2.3 What is Quality in Children’s Lives? And from Whose

Perspective?
Developmental psychologists as well as pedagogues, pediatricians, and other pro-

fessionals have invested a great deal of energy in understanding what is good for
children and for child development. Parents usually also want the best for their
children. In addition, organizations such as UNICEF and legal documents such as
the CRC may represent children’s best interests.
What different people or institutions define as good or best for children may be
considered standards or indicators of quality in young people’s lives. However,
experts often do not agree among themselves about such standards; they may change
their minds, parents may disagree with them, and the cross-cultural validity of such
standards is often doubtful. This diversity is not to be discounted. In fact, there are
important cultural (and individual or perspectival) differences about what is good for
children (Childwatch International 1995; Ennew 1996; Casas 1997b, 2000a).
Scientists often conceptualize childhood at least as a starting point by
referencing typical representations from within their own sociocultural context
(Chombart de Lauwe 1971; 1984; 1989; Casas 1996b, 1997a). Yet, social repre-
sentations of childhood are biased by societal norms in the ways one perceives and
conceptualizes what is good and what is bad for children, in perceptions of what
social problems (as opposite to “private” matters) are particularly relevant for
children, and in deciding what counts as a “good life” during childhood (for
children themselves) (Casas 1998).
In social science as well as in social life, qualitative and quantitative measures, as
have been mentioned, often complement one another in measuring well-being for
children. To identify a good quality of life in some domain, it is essential not only to
have subjective and objective measures for conditions of children’s living but also to
achieve some consensus about what constitutes “good quality,” that is, a normative
standard to compare with “reality.” However, at present there is no clear agreement
about such standards. To date, the definitions of “social problems” and “good quality”
for children are strongly influenced by the way society implements social intervention
programs (and social policies) to deal with children’s problems (and the problems of
families with children) and/or to promote children’s quality of life (Casas 1998).
In fact, an overview of the research on children’s quality of life studies finds few
publications that include children’s own perspectives. The most usual research
focuses on the attribution of needs or the perceptions of quality from adult (experts’
or parents’) vantage points. In many instances, this is a misuse of the concept
“quality of life,” because it betrays the basic definition of the concept: people’s own
perceptions, evaluations, and aspirations. Therefore, in practice, what has been
referred to over decades as research on children’s quality of life does not truly
address the quality of young peoples’ lives but of others’ perceptions or opinions
about their lives.
Traditionally what is good or best for children has been decided by parents or by
experts who “know” about children’s needs from their own perspectives. Yet, step
by step, the perspective of the child, which may indeed differ from that of adults,
has become important in research. However, even though this change is often
discussed in the scholarship on children today, it is still often taken for granted
that children need not be asked, because they do not know (are not yet capable or
competent to know) what is good for them. Who is right and who is wrong has been
decided on beforehand. If we compare this situation with the recent historical
process of studying quality of life, we may suddenly wonder about the best
perspective from which to carry research forward. Perhaps if asked, children may
sometimes agree and sometimes disagree with different groups of adults. Having
data from multiple perspectives at hand would allow investigation of the reasons for
such disagreements or consensus and promote learning from them.
Disagreements between children and adults regarding aspects of children’s
lives can be an important dimension of social life and of interpersonal and
intergenerational relationships. For example, adolescents and youngsters in general
are more often “risk takers” than are adults; having new and amusing experiences is
important for them. For adults, “security” for youths is often more important. As
a result, security measures imposed by adults from an adult perspective on what is
best for young people may be considered by the youths themselves as a reflection of
an adult desire to control their lives or limit their freedoms. Such disagreement
might be better understood and more often mitigated if both children’s and adult
perspectives were considered in research.
The psychosocial context in which such disagreements occur is based in both adults
and youngsters considering each other as opposed social groups or categories. Their
interactions occur in what social psychologists call processes of intergroup categorical
differentiation (Tajfel 1978; Casas 1996a). Adults appear to be vested in their
differentiation from adolescents and younger children. Yet, it is a challenge to
understand why adults are “interested” in this categorical social differentiation.
When policymakers urge an increase in children’s participation and responsibility in
society, adults are often reluctant to agree (Casas 1998). An alternative is to think
in supra-categories (i.e., human beings, with universal human rights) instead of
thinking as juxtaposed age-based categories perhaps – that thinking has more potential
to encourage mutual understanding of perspectives and dialog and to stimulate the
effort to build up social consensus between the new generations.
1.2.4 Global Perspectives on Children’s Well-Being
There is a remarkable diversity in the experiences of children and of their child-

hoods around the world. This diversity poses a challenge to conceptualizing well-
being and demands a contextualized perspective along with any consideration of
the more universal needs of children. While there has been a call and a moral stance
taken toward looking for the optimal child situation, there are multiple pathways
toward well-being each suited to particular cultural contexts. While globalization
has led to improvements in child well-being in some domains, such as education, it
has also increased disparities between those children who benefit through access to
education and those who do not.
Four major points should be remembered in considering child well-being in
a cross-cultural or global perspective. (1) Childcare practices vary widely around the
world and those that are taken for granted as normative or positive in any one society
may be regarded as negative in others. Too often discrete practices are compared
across cultural contexts without regard for their larger embeddedness within particular
social settings. (2) For the most part, there is limited empirical evidence on the
outcomes, positive and negative, of most cultural practices. Understanding the conse-
quences to child well-being in particular cultural and contextual settings is a matter
for empirical study rather than for judgments measured against a presumed
universal standard. (3) The available evidence relevant to causes and conse-
quences of well-being is largely limited to Western cultures (Henrich et al.
2010). “The study of child development has been largely confined to children in
North America, Europe, and other Western countries, who comprise less
than 10 % of all children in the world” (LeVine and New 2008, p. 1). (4) Differ-
ences in children’s experiences thought to lead to well-being may be highly
contested both across and within cultural contexts.
1.2.5 Measuring and Monitoring Children’s Well-Being
The use of statistical data and indicators to specifically study the well-being of
children is not new. Pioneering “State of the Child” reports were published as early
as the 1940s (Ben-Arieh 2008; Ben-Arieh et al. 2001). Nevertheless, most
researchers would agree that the current attention to child well-being indicators
has its substantial origins in the “social indicators movement” of the 1960s, which
arose in a climate of rapid social change, and in the sense among social scientists and
public officials that well measured and consistently collected social indicators could
provide a way to monitor the condition of groups in society at a particular moment
and over time, including the conditions of children and families (Land 2000).
Indicators of children’s well-being, in particular, are used by child advocacy
groups, policymakers, researchers, the media, and service providers for several
purposes (e.g., to describe the condition of children, to monitor or track child
outcomes, or to set goals). Although there are notable gaps and inadequacies in
existing child and family well-being indicators (Ben-Arieh 2000), there also are
literally dozens of data series and indicators from which to form opinions and draw
conclusions (Bradshaw et al. 2007). The rapidly growing interest in children’s well-
being indicators stems, in part, from a movement toward accountability-based
public policy, which demands more accurate measures of the conditions children
face and the outcomes of various programs designed to address those conditions.
At the same time, rapid changes in family life have prompted an increased demand
from child development professionals, social scientists, and the public for a better
picture of children’s well-being (Ben-Arieh and Wintersberger 1997; Lee 1997).
In addition to the growing policy demands for accountability, the birth and devel-
opment of the child indicators movement can be attributed to the emergence of new
normative and conceptual theories as well as methodological advancements. Broadly
speaking, three major normative or theoretical changes have contributed to the crea-
tion and evolution of the child indicators field: (1) the normative concept of children
rights, (2) the new sociology of childhood as a stage in and of itself, and (3) ecological
theories of child development. Similarly, three methodological issues gave rise to the
child indicators movement: (1) the emerging importance of the subjective perspective,
(2) the child as the unit of observation, and (3) the expanded use of administrative data
and a growing variety of data sources. Finally, the call for more policy-oriented
research also played a role in the evolution of attention to indicators.
As efforts to measure and monitor children’s well-being have expanded in recent
years, so has scholarly interest. This growth was evident in numerous joint projects
by government, nongovernment, and academic institutes and in numerous “State of
the Child” reports (Ben-Arieh et al. 2001; Land et al. 2001). State of the Child
reports are published documents (not necessarily academic publications and defi-
nitely not scholarly papers) typically authored by academicians and advocates that
address the status of children with the goal of monitoring their status in a given
region or area (Ben-Arieh and Goerge 2001; Bradshaw and Barnes 1999).
A quick look at the number of these reports published recently reveals children’s
well-being and attention to indicators to be a growing field. Much of this new and
enhanced activity can be accounted for by UNICEF’s State of the World’s Children
annual report as well as the Annie E. Casey Foundation’s Kids Count initiative in
the United States. The UN’s CRC, through its global ratification and its reporting
and monitoring mechanism, has also played an important role in increasing interest
in these reports (Ben-Arieh 2012).
This growth has enabled scholars to use the reports to examine whether any
specific patterns or trends are emerging in the indicators field in general or in the
production of the reports themselves. A number of reviews (Ben-Arieh 2006, 2012;
Ben-Arieh and Goerge 2001; Bradshaw and Barnes 1999) as well as several other
studies (Hauser et al. 1997; Moore et al. 2004) concluded that the field of children’s
social indicators has evolved through several major shifts in the past 30 years.
We outline this trajectory below.
The evolution of child indicators has occurred in four, sometimes concurrent,
stages noted as the first four items in the following list. Researchers have argued
that the current field of child indicators can be characterized by these and additional
features as follows. (1) Indicators, their measurement, and use are driven by the
universal acceptance of the CRC. (2) Indicators have broadened beyond children’s
immediate survival to their well-being (without necessarily neglecting the survival
indicators). (3) Efforts are combining a focus on negative and positive aspects of
children’s lives. (4) The well-becoming perspective – a focus on the future success of
the generation – while still dominant, is no longer the only perspective. Well-being –
children’s current status – is now considered legitimate as well. (5) New domains of
child well-being have emerged, fewer efforts are professionally- or service-oriented,

and many more are child-centered. (6) The child as the unit of observation is now
common. Efforts to measure and monitor children’s well-being today start from the
child and move outward. (7) Efforts to include subjective perceptions, including
the child’s, are growing. Recent efforts acknowledge the usefulness of both quantita-
tive and qualitative studies, as well as multiple methods. (8) Numerous efforts to
develop composite indices are underway at all geographic levels, local, national, and
international. (9) The shift is evident toward a greater emphasis on policy-oriented
efforts. A major criterion for selecting indicators is their usefulness to community
workers and policymakers. Policymakers are often included in the process of
developing the indicators and discussing the usefulness of various choices.
Clearly, the child indicators field has evolved. The various reviews of the field
support this claim. The volume of activity is clearly rising, and new indicators,
composite indices, and State of the Child reports are emerging. These and the
above-noted changes are occurring widely, although at different paces (Ben-Arieh
2000, 2006, 2012). As new indicators are developed across additional domains, the
field will continue to expand (Bradshaw et al. 2007; Lippman 2004).
1.2.6 From Survival to Well-Being
Much attention has been paid to children’s physical survival and basic needs, focusing
often on threats to children’s survival. In fact, the use of such social indicators has
spurred programs to save children’s lives (Ben-Arieh 2000; Bradshaw et al. 2007).
Infant and child mortality, school enrollment and dropout rates, immunizations, and
childhood disease are all examples of areas where data on basic needs has improved
child survival broadly. However, a fundamental shift occurs when the focus shifts
from survival to well-being. Both Aber (1997) and Pittman and Irby (1997) argued in
the late 1990s for indicators that moved beyond basic needs of development and
beyond the phenomenon of deviance to those that reflect the promotion of child
development. These efforts in turn moved the field from efforts to determine mini-
mums, as in saving a life, to those that focus on quality of life. This shift was further
supported by efforts to better understand what QOL entailed and its implications for
children (Casas et al. 2000; Huebner 1997, 2004).
1.2.7 From Negative to Positive
Measures of risk factors or negative behaviors are not the same as measures that
gauge protective factors or positive behaviors (Aber and Jones 1997). The absence
of problems or failures does not necessarily indicate proper growth and success
(Ben-Arieh 2006; Moore et al. 2004). Thus, the challenge has become developing
indicators that hold societies accountable for more than the safe warehousing of
children and youth (Pittman and Irby 1997). As Resnick (1995, p. 3) states,
“children’s well-being indicators are on the move from concentrating only on
trends of dying, distress, disability, and discomfort to tackling the issue of indica-
tors of sparkle, satisfaction, and well-being.”
However, children’s positive outcomes are not static. They result from an
interplay of resources and risk factors pertinent to the child, his or her family, his
or her friends, his or her school, and the wider society. These resources and risk
factors are constantly changing, and children, with their evolving capacities,
actively create their own well-being by mediating among available supports and
impinging risks. Antonovsky (1987) describes this process in his concept of
“salutogenesis,” which he suggests captures the movement of people on
a continuum between health and disease, balancing stress and resources.
1.2.8 Well-Being and Well-Becoming
The sociology of childhood underscores two dimensions, or axes, in the under-

standing of childhood and children. Each has its origins in the Greek philosophy
that conceived the concepts of being (object or state) and becoming (change or
development). These concepts refer to life as it is experienced in the present and life
as it develops toward adulthood. Children’s rights refer both to their rights here and
now and to their right to develop and “become,” as illustrated by the CRC emphasis
on children’s rights to realize their potentials. We may view being as a state at a
given point in time and becoming as the unfolding of the life course along trajectories
shaped by social structures and the agency of the actor. An emphasis on becoming –
as in the modern society – may entail that the state of being is intensely in focus
because of the emphasis on becoming. Being may represent the cultivating of factors
that are understood to influence future being. The investment in children’s futures
may represent an important part of children’s well-being but may also imply
a structuring of childhood that exploits the life of the present. The sociology of
childhood, as well as modern advocacy of children’s rights, underline rights for
children as citizens of the present, not only as beings on their way to adult positions.
The relationship between being and becoming is, in itself, a part of children’s
well-being. The child who spends countless hours on schoolwork may lose out on
leisure activities of play but may gain in the future, while the child who invests little
in schoolwork may enjoy the moment but weaken his or her future well-being.
Similarly, a child who spends long hours practicing sports or music may lose on his
present well-being but may gain affluence and achievements as an adult. The status
and position of children have to be understood within the framework of the present,
as description, and within a framework of life course and development, as
predictions. Total well-being includes them both.
In contrast to the immediacy of well-being, well-becoming describes a future
focus (i.e., preparing children to be productive and happy adults). Qvortrup (1999)
laid the foundation for considering children’s well-being in claiming that the
conventional preoccupation with the next generation is a preoccupation of adults.
Anyone interested in children and childhood should in this view be interested in
present as well as future childhood. In other words, children are instrumentalized by
forward-looking perspectives in the sense that their “good life” is postponed until
adulthood. As such, perspectives on well-becoming focus on opportunities rather
than provisions (de Lone 1979). Accepting the arguments of Qvortrup and others to
concentrate on the well-being of children does not deny the relevance of a child’s
development toward adulthood.
In addition, focusing on preparing children to become citizens suggests that they
are not citizens during childhood, a concept that is hard to reconcile with a belief
in children’s rights. It is not uncommon to find in the literature reference to the
importance of rearing children who will be creative, ethical, and moral adult members
of a community. It is harder to find reference to children’s well-being and immediate
creative social participation during their childhood. Indeed, both perspectives
are legitimate and necessary for social science and for public policy. However, the
emergence of the child-centered perspective, and its focus on children’s well-being,
introduced new ideas and energy to the child indicators movement.
1.2.9 Children’s Own Perceptions of Well-Being
Children’s well-being should take into account: (1) children’s conditions of living and
“objective” measures of their well-being; (2) children’s perceptions, evaluations, and
aspirations regarding their own lives – including children’s subjective well-being;
and (3) perceptions, evaluations, and aspirations of other relevant social agents
(stakeholders) about children’s lives and conditions of living, i.e., the opinions of
their parents, teachers, pediatricians, educators, social professionals, and so on.
Studies of children’s well-being have seldom been conducted with children or
adolescents, particularly if we compare these with similar research on adults’ well-
being (Huebner 2004). Many of the preliminary studies with children 8 years old or
older use the Multidimensional Students’ Life Satisfaction Scale (MSLSS)
(Huebner 1994), which functions well in different cultural contexts (Casas et al.
2000). Cummins’ (1998) Personal Well-Being Index has also been used success-
fully with adolescents 12–16 years old in Romania, Brazil, Argentina, Chile, Spain,
and Australia (Casas et al. 2011; Casas et al. 2012; Tomyn and Cummins 2011), and
longer lists of life domains have been explored at least in Brazil, India, South
Africa, Norway, and Spain (Casas et al. 2004).
In fact, throughout the last decade, subjective well-being in childhood and adoles-
cence has flourished engendering productive discussions (Ben-Arieh et al. 2001), even
while different authors use different concepts and approaches. Researchers have taken
an interest in asking children about their own life evaluations, with the result that
children’s answers may be unexpected and surprising for adults.
Huebner (2004) reviewed correlations found by different authors between life
satisfaction measures in children and adolescents and other measures of adaptive
and positive functioning. Among his conclusions, it is worth pointing out
the following: (1) Although the development of life satisfaction scales appropriate
for children and adolescents has only recently been undertaken, there is support for
convergent validity of diverse life satisfaction measures and (2) there is
a developing support for discriminate validity. Life satisfaction appears to be

related to, but separable from, a variety of psychological constructs, such as self-
esteem, positive affect, and negative affect.
Traditionally there has been reluctance among social scientists to accept
children’s self-reported information as reliable in agreement with adults’ social
representation of children as “not yets,” i.e., not yet competent (Casas 1999;
Verhellen 1992). This attitude has recently started to change. A number of publi-
cations are now available recommending how best to communicate with children
(Richman 1993), how to listen to children’s points of view in different contexts
(Garbarino et al. 1989), and how to develop research with the children (Mason and
Danby 2011). As Garbarino and colleagues (1989) stated, it is adult’s orientation
and competence when relating and listening to children that raises the difference of
children’s competence.
Developmental psychologists have tested instruments over decades for success-
fully interviewing children in order to understand their cognitive capacities and
other skills. Following the psychologists, probably those more interested in know-
ing children’s points of view have been publicists and professionals involved with
the media: Children are consumers and media audiences, so their preferences are
significant in market research. A couple of decades before the end of the twentieth
century, publications began to appear in which children were asked what they think
about something. A number of studies asking children for their opinions on the
family (Van Gils 1995), about their own rights (Melton 1980; Cherney and Perry
1994; Ochaita et al. 1994), about their neighborhoods (Casas 1996c; Spilsbury et al.
2009, 2012), and so on, promoted international debates. This research transcends
limitations on sample sizes posed by traditional studies using children’s composi-
tions or designs and reduces the reliance on adult interpretation bias.
The issue of whether children are able to answer appropriately or not to
questionnaires exploring their overall life satisfaction or their satisfaction regarding
particular life domains is critical. Huebner (1991) first tested both a one-
dimensional and a multidimensional questionnaire of satisfaction adapted for
children. The multidimensional scale included measures about family, friends,
school, living environment, and self. The complementary one-dimensional scale
was simple (seven items) and was tested successfully with children 8–14 years old.
From his findings, Huebner (1991) concluded that “the notion of children’s global
life satisfaction can be reliably and validly assessed in children as early as 8 years
old.” Parents’ and children’s perspectives and evaluations about widely ranging
topics are increasingly being explored (Megı́as 2002; Barge and Loges 2003;
Luk-Fong 2005). Values and audiovisual media are two examples of interesting
fields for such comparisons (Coenders et al. 2005; Casas et al. 2001).
Audiovisual media studies during the 1990s provided evidence of stereotypes
that adults use to explain children’s lives. For example, many adults said that the
preferred activity of their children was watching TV – some children never volun-
tarily moved, adults suggested, from sitting in front of a television set. When
children started to be asked about their preferences, a different landscape emerged:
Children and adolescents most preferred being with friends; television watching,
children indicated, is useful for collecting information to talk about with friends,
but only of interest as a focal activity when friends are not available (Casas 2011).
Another documented difference between adults and children is their comfort levels
with technology. While many adults feel incompetent with information and com-
munication technologies (ICTs), children are adept and even enthusiastic in using
them. In fact, in Europe, it is clear that “children in the household” is a variable that
influences the level of ICTs at home (S€ uess et al. 1998).
It has become obvious that many adults miss a lot of relevant information about
children’s activities and interests with respect to new technologies, and they
wrongly assume that children’s perspectives must be the same with that of adult’s.
For example, in a research on video game use (Casas 2000b, 2001), questions were
asked of children and then, in separately, parents were asked about their own ideas
and their ideas about their children’s thoughts on exactly the same topics. Parents
and children shared a number of ideas, for example, that video games are useless as
a mean for learning. However, statistically significant discrepancies appeared
between parents and male children about three topics: when children were asked
whether video game playing is lost time, whether they prefer video games incor-
porating fighting and war, and whether they play video games to forget their
problems. In relation to these topics, parents’ ideas about their child were related
to their own desires, not to the children’s feelings.
Last, but not least, traditional research on children often assumed that sociali-
zation is a one-way process, mainly related to parents’ skills – those with knowl-
edge about life and about the world socialize those without knowledge, i.e., the
children. However, a bidirectional model of socialization has been assumed among
experts by the second half of the twentieth century (Kuczynski et al. 1997). Two
main consequences arise from that new model: (1) Adults also learn and can learn
from children. In fact they often do, although a general tendency is observed to
undervalue the importance of such learning (these are “childish” things). (2) Adults
have often attributed intergenerational relationship problems to the behavior of the
younger-generation members. Aristotle, in his time, voiced his worries about young
people losing and changing traditional values. On a tablet dated around 2800 BC
similar thoughts appear: “Children no longer obey their parents, every man wants to
write a book, and the end of the world is evidently approaching” (Layard and Dunn
2009, quoting information from David Piachaud about a tablet in the Istanbul
Municipal Museum).
Throughout history Western cultures have looked at youngsters without confi-
dence in their emerging status and responsibility. Young people are often said not to
“explain things to adults.” However, at present, research evidence in Europe
suggests that adults are also changing traditional values on how to raise children
(Commission of the European Communities 1990) and that adults are often the ones
who avoid talking to younger people, particularly about topics where children show
greater interest (Casas 2001).
If one truly assumes that well-being and quality of life include perceptions,
evaluations, and aspirations of people about their own lives, then research on
children’s quality of life is at its very beginnings. Researchers are only starting to
“listen to children,” to “discover” their opinions and evaluations, to recognize that

children’s points of view may be different from adults,’ and to understand that it is
no longer clear who “is right” or perhaps that the question of “rightness” is not the
most useful focus for investigation. This allows a new question mark: Why do
adults and children differ on the perceptions and evaluations of the important
aspects of everyday lives?
In order to develop well-designed intervention programs, a better understanding
of conditions to be changed is essential. The present state of the art of well-being
and quality of life research establishes crucial findings, not specifically researched
for children yet, but that would appear to be valid for children’s populations:
1. Improving the quality of public services has a positive impact on people’s
quality of life, including subjective well-being.
2. Participation of users of services in the design and functioning of those services
has positive effects on users’ perceptions and evaluations and other positive
consequences. For example, participation in the design of urban spaces has an
“appropriating” effect and, as a consequence, the spaces are respected and those
who have engaged with the process actively ask respect for these spaces by
others. The same impact has been observed on children when they participate in
the design of city open spaces for playing. In the general population, political
democracy (respect for political and civil rights) has been shown to contribute to
higher happiness levels (Veenhoven 2001).
3. Improving material conditions of living has a positive impact on people’s quality
of life. The lower the material conditions of living are, the higher the impact
when they are improved.
4. It is difficult to improve the subjective well-being for people who are happy or
well satisfied with life. However, it is easier to improve the subjective well-being
of those who are unhappy or unsatisfied with their own living conditions. An
important political recommendation rises from such evidence: In order to have
a clear impact on the mean quality of life of any population globally, it is most
effective to focus action on those living in the worse conditions.
5. In order to understand the quality of life of any population, one needs to know
the point of view of all social agents involved. This includes children’s points of
view. Improving satisfactory interpersonal relationships is probably the best way
to have a positive impact in people’s subjective well-being.
Recall that the Universal Declaration of Human Rights adopted by the General
Assembly of the United Nations in 1948, in its article 25.1, states that “Everyone
has the right to a standard of living adequate for the health and well-being of
himself and his family, including food, clothing, housing and medical care, and
necessary social services, and the right to security in the event of unemployment,
sickness, disability, widowhood, old age or other lack of livelihood in circum-
stances beyond his control.”
More than two decades ago, Williams (1993) discussed the importance of
quality of life in policy decisions and concluded that quality of life measurement,
as a way of measuring the relative value of the benefits of different interventions,
has a tremendous future at all levels, from the monitoring of individual performance
to the establishment of social priorities. However, he argued that it will probably

take several decades before we can expect to see this kind of data used for policy
decisions on a regular basis.
Children’s perspectives are opening up access to “a different interpersonal and
social world.” The idea of “children’s cultures” makes sense when we know that
children and adolescents have their own opinions, experiences, evaluations, and
aspirations, which are not only constructed in their interactions with adults but
sometimes independently. In fact, many different researchers have suggested that
experiences, values, and perceptions are much less shared between parents and
children than once presumed (Kuczynski et al. 1997). That becomes particularly
evident with research on audiovisual media use and on the interpersonal relation-
ships related to or mediated by these technologies. After initial promising results,
further advances require creative research replicating and improving designs and
instruments for data collection.
1.3 Discourses on Well-Being
The concept of well-being is complex, encompassing problems of subjective well-

being and happiness, Aristotelian perspectives on the good life, and the rights of the
subject to a voice and to freedom of choice. The interplay of the dimensions of well-
being and of well-becoming particular to childhood produces a special complexity
related to children’s quality of life. Some families and cultures may focus on
becoming and academic achievements, while others may argue that this focus on
becoming overshadows the well-being of the present. Many of the most famous
artists of the world spent their childhood with intensive rehearsals, realizing their
potentialities and shaping fantastic adult lives, but perhaps losing the play of child-
hood. A prominent Western middle-class style of socialization, conceptualized as
concerted cultivation, underlines parents’ obligations to guide, support, and push
their children through educational systems, while a complementary working-class
upbringing termed natural growth, implies less parental involvement in children’s
development (Lareau 2003). The modern version of concerted cultivation also
represents the development of children’s voices; the voice of a child as an adult is
a fruit of learning and discursive reflection. Perspective and wisdom do not emerge
solely out of social positions. There is an ongoing debate in many countries about the
possible overburdening of children in educational systems and through organized
activities, weakening their well-being and also weakening play, which has been the
primary context for children’s learning and development through human history.
The discourses of children’s well-being relate to the Aristotelian challenge,
entangling individual well-being with the development of the reflexive subject
and the greater good. The ideas of well-being are rooted in ongoing discourses of
well-being. The position of the concept in politics and research encourages discur-
sive and ideological reflections on its meaning in various domains, illustrating that
the well-being of individuals and their societies is related to personal as well as
social frameworks and global as well as to the local perspectives.
1.3.1 Structure of the Handbook
This multivolume compendium on child well-being takes as its starting point that
child well-being is best understood within a multicultural and multidisciplinary
framework, encompassing a wide range of approaches and contexts. The organiza-
tion reflects the project of exploring the multifaceted nature of child well-being.
More than 110 chapters reveal wide-ranging interest in child well-being around the
world through its conceptualizations, its topic areas, its policy implications, its
context, its expression, and the myriad of components that comprise the well-being
of children. The compendium also reflects broad geographic and global interest in
child well-being with chapters representing nations and cultures around the world,
not limited, as is often the case, to North American and European perspectives.
By encompassing these diverse perspectives, the Handbook hopes to broaden
discourses and their scholarly and policy relevances.
In the first section of the handbook, contributors explore the history of well-being,
the cultural context, and gendered and intergenerational perspectives. These orienting
frameworks are then followed by a diversity of disciplinary approaches to well-being
represented by the 15 chapters in ▶ Sect. II. The authors of these 15 chapters consider
approaches that multiple disciplines have taken to understanding child well-being
within their own disciplinary frames. ▶ Section III continues to set parameters by
including various theoretical approaches to child well-being.
In ▶ Sect. IV authors give consideration to children’s well-being in the context
of activities that shape their lives and are shaped by their participation: well-being
in school and in after-school activities, at play and at work, engaging in sports and
artistic endeavors, volunteering and engaging in civic and political activities, and in
the use of time. In ▶ Sect. V, attention is turned specifically toward children’s
artistic activities in relation to well-being, and ▶ Sect. VI centers on the impact of
religious and spiritual life.
The importance of an ecological perspective on child well-being gives shape to
▶ Sect. VII in which scholars consider the child embedded in families, schools,
communities and neighborhoods, and social networks. In ▶ Sect. VIII contributors
focus on children’s material conditions: poverty and social exclusion as well
as affluence, children as consumers as well as producers, the costs of a child as
well as the intergenerational distribution of wealth, and costs and effects of child
welfare interventions.
Children’s well-being considered in a life course perspective is the frame for
▶ Sect. IX in which authors attend to the periods of infancy through early child-
hood, adolescence, and the transition to adulthood. The section also includes
a consideration of how life course perspectives and the importance of changing
contexts influence understandings. Interpersonal relationships, so critical to child
well-being, are considered by those writing for chapters in ▶ Sect. X, where
approaches encompass relationships with peers, siblings, and allomothers and
include a consideration of children as caregivers themselves.
In a globalizing world, the role of the media takes on increasing importance.
In ▶ Sect. XI authors consider the influence of various aspects of the media on
child well-being including television, news media, advertising, and the role of
the internet.
▶ Section XII has a focus on the family and parenting, considering parental
labor, parenting styles, and issues of adoption and children without permanent
parents. ▶ Section XIII includes attention to a range of health issues as they relate
to children’s well-being, from mental health to HIV and AIDS, from body image to
how neuroscience is related to child-rearing practices.
▶ Section XIV moves to a consideration of children’s rights, particularly the role
of the United Nations’ Convention on the Rights of the Child. Children’s partici-
pation in their own rights is a component of this section. ▶ Section XV focuses on
scholarship identifying the roots of children’s aggression as well as children’s
vulnerabilities to bullying, maltreatment, crime, and life in the streets.
In ▶ Sect. XVI scholars draw attention to issues of methods and measures to
understand child well-being and consider the indices that have been developed.
Methods include considering children’s perspectives, subjective and objective
indicators, and the use of mixed methodologies and multiple sources of informa-
tion. Issues involved in international comparisons and the ethics of research on
children’s well-being are included.
Contributors to ▶ Sect. XVII explore the strategies and policies that have been
aimed at enhancing child well-being including early intervention, prevention, and
the use of advocacy to promote child well-being. The concluding section of the
book, ▶ Sect. XVIII, includes the work of authors who bring forward global issues
related to child well-being such as child soldiers, migration, self-determination, and
the impact of globalization itself.
The editors hope and anticipate that the project of this Handbook is but
a beginning for more work by scholars and practitioners, policymakers, and child
advocates on the issues that surround child well-being.
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Section I
Multiple Perspectives on Child Well-Being
History of Children’s Well-Being
2
Bengt Sandin
2.1 Introduction
The well-being of children has historically been associated with a number of

different social and political issues: participation in the labor force; the character,
nature, and extent of schooling; notions of parenting; and the evaluation of the
quality of family life. These issues have, in the past, involved evaluation by societal
agents representing different kinds of “normal” childhood expectations and the
environmental and structural conditions of the life of children, but largely without
the use of concepts associated with well-being. This chapter will point out aspects
of historical change in the well-being of children when their lives have been
subjected to political attention. It will also demonstrate how and when children
have been made visible as political issues and thus labeled and characterized in
terms that might be recognized today as aspects of well-being or the lack thereof.
Fulfillment of human biological needs necessary for survival interacts with cultur-
ally defined, subjective, and collective evaluations of quality of life for children.
Aspirations on the part of children, parents, and societal agencies reflect specific
historical experiences: for example, work, schooling, and family.
Issues that today are important in the definitions of well-being have, in the past,
often not been deemed important or have simply been conceptualized in terms
hardly identifiable today. Consequently, well-being is also dependent on the defi-
nitions of childhood as shaped by gender, class, age definitions, and ethnicity, as
well as on how care for children has been organized in different societies. It is
intimately associated with how welfare surrounding children is historically under-
stood, which, in turn, is also dependent on, among others, the definitions of
the rights and social status of children and the legal role of the family. The
interdependence of these issues has been expressed in different ways due to specific
B. Sandin
Department of Thematic Studies/Child Studies, University of Link€
oping, Link€
oping, Sweden

32 B. Sandin
cultural traditions and political cultures. Measures and definitions of well-being are
closely connected to systems of political governance and to the scholarly and
intellectual traditions for which the life of children is, or has been, an important
scholarly quest. This chapter will focus on general trends of change in the West
concerning children’s well-being. Such trends are composed of a multitude of
complex substructures embedded within different national or regional changes
and developments. It is therefore important to acknowledge the differences between
ways of understanding children, childhood, and well-being as they have evolved
throughout Western history.
The West is, in many ways, a cultural unit but is also very much defined by the
differences among nations, regions, and cultures and, indeed, includes nations in the
Eastern hemisphere. It is particularly interesting in the context of the changing
understanding of children’s rights and its basis in different political regimes in
different countries. The histories involved – of the family and children, of institutions
of care and schooling, of work, of international cooperation, of imperialism and
globalization – create a complex web of experiences that shape understandings of
well-being that are both unique and different from that of one’s neighbors and yet
a part of a common Western experience. It is in many ways both a story of the long-,
medium-, and short-term changes and the limits of the possible (Braudel 1985, 2001).
The longevity of institutions of child care and the permanent need for regulation of
the life of children is staggering, as is the cultural permanence of certain aspects of
notions of childhood and children. The influences of extrafamilial child caring
institutions, such as orphanages, homes for foundlings, placing out, and so on, were
formed during the Renaissance and have continued into the present day. The regu-
lation of children’s lives within families and issues such as child labor are permanent
features both in a global and a Western context. Even when these institutions have
been abandoned in certain countries and contexts as inappropriate forms of care, they
form the undercurrent of examples from which newer forms of care and well-being
are defined. Indeed, war or other crises re-actualize forms of care that in other
contexts are deemed less appropriate. Such events are at the same time isolated and
limited in time and space and yet are almost permanent or recurrent features in the
history of childhood. Given the nature of the vast topic covered the references in this
article are of three types: one type refers to an example of the type of research or
issues mentioned, a second consists of a reference to a specific arguments in earlier
research, while the third type contains references to surveys on the topic or bibliog-
raphies with more extensive references to stimulate further reading. I have not been
able to reference all the important work and most certainly neglected important
studies and aspects of this complex history due to the limits of this article, but also
as a result of my ambition to create a consistent narrative. Recently publiched
histories of childhood can serve to fill the gaps in my presentation. (Fass 2004,
2012; Hindman 2009; Foyster and Marten 2010)
The narrative in this chapter forms a story about a series of different, but
sometimes parallel, regimes of governance of children’s well-being influenced
by basic demographic and social conditions, systems of political governance
and professional responsibilities, and understandings of the nature of social
2 History of Children’s Well-Being 33
relationships of children and childhood in culture and science/scholarship. As such,

they incorporate understandings of the rights of children as defined by the relation-
ships between states/governance, family, and children (Foucault 1976/1978, 1979;
Tr€agårdh and Berggren 2010). Regimes of well-being also represent norms and
value structures of how the lives of children are best construed in different societies,
thereby also defining the normal and the abnormal. Based in both international and
national or regional experiences, the different understandings of well-being will
inevitably come to be a part of conflicting political cultures and conflicting inter-
pretations of the world of children, as well as expressions of general and global and
long-, medium-, and short-term trends of change.
2.2 Children’s Well-Being, Family, and Institutions in

Transition
There are specific instances in history when the well-being of children becomes
visible in the eyes of government at local and central levels and thus in historical
sources. In the historical contexts, when children’s lives were shaped within
households or on farms, there were, for the most part, no comments from religious
and secular authorities. Clearly, however, this lack of attention should not be
understood as being unproblematic in terms that today are associated with well-
being. Both high mortality rates and the general living conditions indicate that
children must have suffered both severe physical and mental hardships. There are
many indications that parents cared about the well-being of their offspring. Arti-
facts such as toys, cradles, balls, and dolls are also evidence of age-specific stages
of child development that point toward periods of childhood play. Such emotional
commitment can be inferred from stories of religious miracles and the recording of
childhood accidents. Such records indicate that the well-being of children did
matter to both secular and religious authorities (Hanawalt 1993, 1986; Pollock
1983; Ferraro 2013).
The life of children was also a matter for the larger society. In the Nordic
countries, the introduction of Christianity involved the incorporation of children
into the responsibility of the church. The inclusion of children conveyed the
ambition of the church to reach populations as a whole and was expressed in, for
example, burial practices, which included burying children in the churchyards
(Mejsholm 2009; Lewis-Simpson 2008). In classical antiquity, children occupied
an important role as cultural symbols and important bearers of the future, although
even immature and powerless children were visible in images and documents.
Children’s well-being was not a separate cultural or political issue, but was natu-
rally integrated into a society that was aware of their importance to reproduction of
the family and society (Vuolanto 2002; Bradley 2013; Ferraro 2013; Harlow and
Laurence 2010). The world of most children was primarily shaped by the context of
the family.
Histories of the family reveal that the consequences of high mortality among adults,
and the effects of war, famine, and poverty, made changing family constellations
34 B. Sandin
necessary and, indeed, a constant phenomenon. The high mortality of the young made
permanent and stable sibling relations at times rare. Lasting relationships with the
parental generation and the older generation might also be endangered by harsh
economic and social situations as well as lower longevity in both upper and lower
social strata (Anderson 1980). A majority of children grew up in household constel-
lations and families, but these may have been reshaped several times during the life
course of the children. At the same time, large households with servants and kin
networks gave children a social context. Family research has demonstrated not only
how the Western European family was characterized by nuclear units but also how
these were transformed during the life course of the family and interacted with
different forms of household construction. Family history research has pointed out
how families also represented continuity and stability during periods of dramatic
social transformations in spite of harsh conditions, during rapid industrialization and
even earlier (Hareven 2000; Laslett 1973, 1977a; Anderson 1971).
Although families may have been the de facto source of stability and identity for
children during industrialization and in poverty, such transformations were the
source of worries about children’s well-being from other points of view (Sandin
1986; Ferraro 2013). Both religious and secular authorities expressed anxieties
about children’s moral and emotional well-being in families, sometimes in refer-
ence to concrete social problems, but also as an expression of general concerns
about the family as a unit of socialization in matters of civic and religious morals.
Such concerns can be identified in writings from different historical epochs and
show variations in attitudes to child-rearing in Catholic and Protestant traditions. In
the Protestant tradition care of children’s physical and mental needs formed the
basis for the building of civil virtues and values of society that underwrote the need
for education. The use of education in the care of the young was also marked by
differences in the evaluation of original sin and natural evil, and they reflect the role
of the parents in different national or regional cultures (Ozment 1983; Ferraro 2013;
Delap et al. 2009).
Moral and civic standing as defined by both religious and secular governments was
an expression of an aspect of well-being for which the parents and/or the household
were regarded as responsible. The role of such engagement in the well-being of the
young during the Reformation and the Counter-Reformation had political overtones
(Ferraro 2013). It also reflected the emergence of secular political contract theories,
such as those of Hobbes and Locke that reconceptualized the role of children in
society. The distinction between religious and civic morals was not at all times an
important one, as they were based on one another, particularly when applied to the
young. Moral standing was not only reflected in behavior of the young. Poverty and
illnesses could indicate not only moral flaws but also signify a lack of moral well-
being in children as well as in adults (Cunningham 1995).
Problematic social situations could also lead to child abandonment, which
gained the attention of different religious, civil, and secular authorities, depending
on political regimes. It is in these contexts that orphanages, foundling homes, and
workhouses for children were established. The development of such institutions
expressed a concern for children’s well-being in terms of their physical and moral
status and reflected an ambition to protect society from the consequences of vagrant
and criminal children (Cunningham 1991, 2006). These institutions represented an
ambition to artificially replace the family and household.
In other cases and historic periods, authorities strove to take care of children by
placing them out in families or creating legal forms such as foster children and/or
adoptions. Such measures show an interest in artificially engineering environments
for children, but they also demonstrate that the understanding of what was benefi-
cial for children varied, as did the understanding and definition of parenting/family
(Cunningham 1991; Lindgren 2006; Carp 1998, 2002; Keating 2009).
The character of institutions differed both in theory and practice in terms of the aims
of the support given children. In some contexts, work was the most important tool for
improvement and was closely associated with the economic needs of either the
government or local economic interests; in others, the emphasis was on moral educa-
tion or even secular education. Institutions tended to aim at being self-supporting in
economic terms when possible (Cunningham 1991; Ransel 1988; Sandin 1986).
The care of children was also associated with an evaluation of whether the children
and families deserved support and, if so, which ones. It was at times of central
importance for governments and welfare agencies to make distinctions between legit-
imate and non-legitimate needs. Civil society associations or philanthropic groups
organized institutions or were instrumental in shaping legislation (Laslett 1977b;
Sandin 1986; Cunningham 1991; Weiner 1995; Ipsen 2006; Keating 2009).
The well-being of children and the ambitions to offer support were clearly
negotiable in these terms. At the same time, the capacity to give help in practice
was limited and subservient to varying national political economic agendas. The
production of clothes for the army or for local manufacturers made the care of
orphans less expensive for governments. The relationships between the families and
government were also cast differently in the varying legal systems in the West,
which could also influence the care of children.
A rough distinction can be made between four “families according to the law”:
the common law family, the family under Roman law, the Germanic family, and the
Nordic family (Therborn 1993; 240). In the parts of Europe that were dominated by
Roman legal patriarchy, the authority of the household head defined children as
wards of the patriarch only as long as the child did nothing criminal. The ability of
the state to intervene against abusive parenting was limited. Children that were
taken care of by the state were strictly defined in legal terms as foundlings or
orphans by the courts. In the UK, the common–law system gave judges greater
leeway to interpret in which situation a child needed protection. This influenced
custody cases, as well as the vague descriptive nomenclature used to describe
children in the streets as gutter snipes, street Arabs, and so on (Jablonka 2013;
Cunningham 1991; Gilfoyle 2013). Differences also defined the relationship to
children born out of wedlock. The distinction between legitimate and illegitimate
children was important in all countries, but the nature of the treatment and status of
such children was different and indicated variances in the commitment to the well-
being of different categories of children and definitions of family (Therborn 1993;
Grossberg 1988; Fuchs 1984).
36 B. Sandin
The role and character of institutions that provided help consequently differed
throughout Europe. In Catholic areas, the role of foundlings tended to be important,
while orphanages for homeless and neglected children of different kinds played
a larger role in Germany and the Scandinavian countries (Cunningham 1995;
Jablonka 2013; Kertzer 1991; Ipsen 2006). In England, the placement of children
in foster homes by poor law authorities and later the transportation of children to the
colonies were important (Cunningham 1995). During the seventeenth and eigh-
teenth centuries, a newly awakened interest in the care of foundlings to supplement
national population growth can be noted in many of the European nations (Ransel
1988). The greater role of educational facilities such as work schools and other
schools and institutions of mass education characterized development. During the
eighteenth and nineteenth centuries there was a parallel development with the rise
of disciplinary institutions, asylums, training ships, and reformatories established to
address the problems of wayward children and children who did not adapt to the
regulation of educational facilities. Some educational institutions continued to
combine begging for support in the streets or choir singing with the education of
children (Sandin 1986, 2009; Jablonka 2013; Cunningham 1995).
It must be noted that distinctions between different kinds of institutions and the
nomenclature used were, in reality, often blurred and changed over time. The
difference between children defined as orphans, delinquents, or different variations
of street children was not always distinct. Educational institutions also played a role
for parents, who could send children to schools knowing that they would participate
in street begging and choir singing during school hours – and be remunerated for
these efforts. Daily life in such institutions also made room for activities – work,
disciplining, or schooling – that in a different context may have led to a redefinition
of the institution. Orphanages gave way to educational activities for middle-class
children living outside the institution or to schools that were opened up for street
children (Sandin 1986; Laslett 1977b; Jablonka 2013; Gilfoyle 2013).
Worry and concerns about children suffering from social or moral deprivation and
the threats to society deriving from such shortcomings have historically been central
forces in creating institutions for the care, education, and control of children and the
young. These institutions ranged from establishments oriented toward replacing the
family and households to a mere emphasis on keeping children at work and self-
supported in educational facilities or religious institutions. Definitions of the dangers
arising from such sources were, to a great extent, informed by a critique of the lower-
class family and household or the lack of families and households.
The nation-building process, with the creation of new nations in parts of Europe,
most likely also influenced an interest in the well-being of children living in the
streets (Miller 1998; Sandin 1986; Cunningham 1995; Jablonka 2013; Ipsen 2006;
Safley 2005). Such worries gained prominence in the emerging market economy,
when the living conditions of working children became observable; at the same
time, the changing class structure formed alternative notions of what the well-being
of children entailed.
During the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, the number of children and
young outside the established parameters of a largely paternalistic social structure
gave impetus to a discussion about disciplining institutions before the Industrial

Revolution. In the long term, middle-class families became a norm for both the
nature of family life and the appropriate understanding of childhood (Miller 1998;
Stearns 2013; Grant 2013; Jablonka 2013), which also fed a critique of how poor
working and deprived children fared. Such normative foundations were also the
core of the critique against institutions such as orphanages and the basis for
arguments for the placement of parentless or destitute children in families.
Non-family-based institutions have had problems living up to the organizational
norms of family life. Family placement or adoptions became an alternative in
environments where state and local government agencies could administer such
complex social responsibilities. The importance of family placement was also
dependent on the definitions of religious and state responsibility and were clearly
more important in Protestant countries than in Catholic. The sanctity of family
made the placing out of illegitimate children a problem in Catholic countries
(Kertzer 1991; Ipsen 2006; Cunningham 1991; Sk€old 2006, 2012).
2.3 Industrious Children: Child Labor and the Configuration of

Well-Being
When child labor in the mines, on the streets, and in the factories and sweatshops
expanded during the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, children’s work was
transformed from a fact of life in the framework of the household into something that
was defined as a social problem. The effect of labor on children’s well-being became
an issue when the number and concentration of children working under hazardous
conditions became observable. The emergence of the issue was consequently also
tied to a historic period when government or civil society defined its responsibilities
to include children, although for a variety of reasons. Discussions included both
deliberations about the consequences for children’s bodies and souls: for example,
short- and long-term health hazards and the moral dangers of working conditions in
the factories and mines. The latter also had implications for children’s current well-
being and their futures as adult workers and/or raisers of families, as well as for the
global position of the nation (Bolin 1989; Heywood 2007, 2013; Hindman 2002,
2009; Olsson 1980; Rahikainen 2004; Hendrick 1997, 2003).
The discussion was consequently not only about children’s work, per se, but about
how the welfare of children was organized in relationship to the family and other ways
of caring for the welfare of children. The family’s inability to care for the physical and
moral well-being of their offspring worried reformers and philanthropists. Families
dependent on child labor displayed traits that deviated from the norms for family life
that were being established in nineteenth century Europe. Generational and gender
roles might be overturned when adults were unemployed, while the labor of children
could be bought at a cheaper price. Children’s work came into conflict with both the
economic interest of adults and the understanding of the family or the household as
the unit for care and the creator of welfare for children. Debates of this kind first
surfaced in the most developed economies in Europe but also shaped the character of
38 B. Sandin
the discussion elsewhere. Reform movements were fed by a critique of the economic
system that made child labor possible, both from the politically conservative and the
politically radical (Heywood 2013; Hindman 2002).
Child labor in rural areas attracted less attention, although it was certainly as
common and widespread. Rural and family-oriented settings offered a context for
the moral upbringing of children that made the use of children as workers appear
less morally problematic (Heywood 2001, 2007, 2010; Sj€oberg 1996; Sandin 1997).
Children had traditionally participated in work on family farms, and the break-
through of agricultural capitalism in the eighteenth century made the work of
children an asset to the laboring family. The early stages of the Industrial Revolu-
tion also made children’s labor valuable in the labor market, and child labor grew in
value during the late eighteenth century with the expansion of household industries.
The education that reformers demanded for children was clearly aimed at
improving the moral aspects of the care of children, as well as their physical health.
It was feared that, when they became adults, working children would lack the
necessary education and would be intellectually and morally hampered, thus
becoming a menace to society even as youngsters. It was argued that working
children might grow up in danger of becoming criminal and morally depraved.
These notions also ran through the arguments about the meaning of childhood as it
appeared around the late nineteenth century. Working children came into conflict
with the understanding of how a good childhood was to be construed as a period of
emotional and physical growth under the protection of a family. Their indepen-
dence and use of money and public arenas did not match the notions of an
appropriate childhood (Cunningham 1991; Zelizer 1985; Heywood 2001, 2007,
2010; Sj€ oberg 1996; Sandin 1997). The existence of such children also indicated
a failure on the part of the parents. Children working in family settings, in small-
scale craft work, or in manufacturing industries under adult supervision were for
that reason sometimes acceptable, but excessive use of children in the labor force
became an upsetting phenomenon.
Opinions were not unanimous, however, as child labor also provided income for
families and kept children off the streets. The effort to abolish child labor extended
over many decades. This delay reflected not only opposition from employers, who
exploited low-wage child laborers, but also from working-class parents, whose
children’s earnings helped make the crucial difference in the family’s income,
even if these earnings at the same time suppressed adult wages. It also reflected
a deep-seated ambivalence among many parents about the cultural value of work
for children’s development into adults. Working-class culture encompassed the
notion that becoming an adult involved the formative experience of labor. Experi-
ence regarded by others as negative for the well-being of children was in the eyes of
parents an important aspect of this same well-being. Legal conflicts around child
labor also shaped the cultural construct of children’s labor in the working classes in
some places. The understanding of the well-being of children was most likely in
parts contradictory and complex (Schmidt 2010; Heywood 2001, 2010, 2013;
Levene 2012). The prohibition of child labor also came into conflict with important
economic interests, and exceptions had at times to be made for economic sectors
dependent on child workers, for example, the agricultural sector and industries such
as glassworks or sawmills (Olsson 1980). Prohibiting the labor of children also
reflects the role and organization of state power. In some nations with weak national
regulatory power, prohibition of child labor came late in spite of broad criticism of
the practices and even, in some places, successful local regulation (Hindman 2002;
Lindenmeyer 1997, 2013).
In some cases, the possibility of legislating against child labor was dependent on the
technological level of industry that had already made the use of child labor redundant.
In Western Europe and the United States, the decline of child labor was less due to
enactment of statutes banning the practice than to technological change, which
drastically reduced the need for bobbin girls and boys. The system of industrial
management also had an important role in the development of child labor (Bolin 1989).
The extent and the ways in which child labor was deemed a problem for
children’s well-being also reflected different national positions in the processes of
industrialization. In the UK, the regulation of excessive use of child labor focused
on health and developed during the 1830s, prior to any real evolvement of com-
pulsory education. In France, the legislation against child labor came soon after and
was influenced by the English example. In both France and the UK, regulation was
directed toward industry rather than intervention in families. In the German states
such as Prussia and in the Scandinavian nations, regulation occurred later,
a consequence of later industrialization, but it also had a different focus, on the
morals and schooling of children. In this region the educational provisions for
children predated any real industrialization, and the regulation of laboring children
was associated with the maintenance and development of educational provisions.
Here the criticism of child labor also involved an extensive discussion of the
negative moral consequences of a failed education and the need to support the
family as a moral entity. In southern Europe both the development of industry and
the development of educational provisions came later (Heywood 2013; Sandin
1997; Rahikainen 2004).
Consequently, debates on the effects of child labor on the well-being of children
paralleled that of the need for educational provisions in many countries as did the
concerns about the health status of children. The development, however, was uneven.
Ambitions sought to bring children’s schooling in line with protective legislation
against child labor, the age of confirmation, and regulations in the penal code. These
developments can be noted as well as important international interaction between
social reformers all over the Western world (Jablonka 2013). Their arguments were
based on a combination of educational, political, and practical considerations and the
evaluation of the family as an institution of moral and civil upbringing. Industrial
labor and work as street vendors or newsboys signaled moral danger.
Working outside the confinement of the family and in public spheres could
jeopardize the morals and behavior of children. It was not compatible with the
kind of normative understanding of childhood that became engrained in the
Western European experience during the late nineteenth century. The child’s
place was within the family or in an educational setting. This change was the
product of several factors, including a shift in the nature and location of the work
40 B. Sandin
children performed; a romanticization of childhood innocence and a horror over

juvenile precocity; a heightened emphasis on formal schooling; fears for children’s
health and physical and mental well-being; and the struggle to create a family wage
(Zelizer 1985; Miller 1998).
Education could be motivated by different purposes: sometimes by the devel-
opmental needs of children, sometimes by ambitions to control the urban environ-
ment and to keep children off the streets. The civic or national identity of children
also became an aspect of well-being and combined the needs described as appro-
priate for children with the needs of the emerging nation states. The construction of
a national identity was of central importance in the educational systems and
reflected the establishment of imperialist nation-states and, for that matter, the
manifest destiny of white supremacy over the world and other nations. This reflects
the ambition to shape childhood that at the same time expressed the exceptional and
specific destiny of each nation, be it the United States or England, France, the
emerging German nation, or small countries like Sweden.
Mass-schooling ironically made visible the poor physical quality of the laboring
poor and consequently implicitly also their mental condition, which prompted
initiatives to improve the stock of children to support national endeavors. Different
national trajectories are largely associated with the timing and phases of industri-
alization, mass-schooling, and systems of governance. It is significant that a federal
structure delayed national legislation in the United States and that factory inspec-
tions in the UK filled a different role than did the factory and school inspections in
the Scandinavian countries (Davin 1996; Sandin 1997, 2010; Schrumpf 1997;
Hendrick 1997; Lindenmeyer 1997; Coninck-Smith 2000). Education had in no
way the same implications for children of all social classes, but rather indicated
different regimes of well-being and the varied responsibility of Western states for
children of different backgrounds.
2.4 Education, Well-Being, Intersectionality
Enrollment in institutions that provided mass-schooling improved towards the end

of the nineteenth century, but with large national and regional variations. Different
waves of introduction of compulsory schooling can be identified that also reflect
differences in the understanding of the role of education in the lives of children. The
pattern corresponds, on the one hand, to the early introduction of schools as a result
of state initiatives in the northern German and Scandinavian states and, on the other
hand, to the initiative of states to create educational provisions that took advantage
of existing religious and civil organizations. In parts of Southern Europe, the
legislation for compulsory education expressed state-building processes but lagged
after the development in Northern Europe (Green 1990; Miller 1998: 143–248;
Soysal and Strang 1989: 277–288; Maynes 1985; Sandin 2010).
The educational system developed dramatically during the nineteenth century,
but only slowly did it become important in the lives of children. Their well-being
was defined by the family and by participation in the labor force. However, by the
end of the nineteenth century educational institutions had a dominant influence over
the lives of children and the character of childhood in many parts of Europe and
created a model of the ideal childhood. This model was also important in the
shaping of childhood in the most industrialized areas and influenced social policy
and politics concerning children. Educational institutions created and inspired
an understanding of the normal childhood and the basic standard of definitions of
well-being (Sandin 2010).
This model was not the same for all children. Girls, as future mothers, were
central to educational efforts for the lower classes, but the education of girls
remained a private matter in other social classes. Such an attitude reflected
a negative evaluation of the moral character of the working-class family, and, at
the same time, a lack of commitment on the part of the state to the education of
women, which had a bearing on the evaluation of well-being. Intellectual activities
were looked upon as a threat to a girl’s well-being and were thought to undermine
her health. The inference was that the social role of women was a nonpublic one.
The reflections of gender and class divisions in the schools reinforced the economic
and social background of children and the class- and gender-specific definitions of
well-being. It was assumed natural that children of the laboring poor would be able
to do physical work and have a shorter period of education, while it was not
reasonable for middle- and upper-class children (Davin 1989; Miller 1998:
221–273; Maynes 1985: 83–102; Sandin 2010: 105–110). The same can be
assumed for children with ethnic backgrounds that judged them according to
other standards of well-being in the eyes of the educational reformers (Bernstein
2011; Ramey 2012).
This Western model of childhood was also very ambiguous in its application in
the territories of Western empires. On the one hand, it was used to criticize the ways
of the colonized people, but colonizers were also hesitant to apply the same norm of
childhood and educational standards to all children in the colonies (Pomfret 2004,
2010). Such an application would no doubt run contrary to both economic interests
and the system of governance applied at that time in the majority world.
In most countries, the teaching of girls at the secondary level was not accepted as
a responsibility of the state. During the second half of the century, however, an
increased interest arose, closely associated both with the feminist movement and
the changing cultural values of the middle-class family. The differences between
children and between the different types of childhood were reflected in the structure
of education and defined the parameters of well-being applied for children of
different social backgrounds. At the secondary level, an educational system that
was created was distinctly gendered and marked by class in France, Britain,
Scandinavia, and the German states, while in the United States the public high
school was formally designed to include children from different layers of society,
though in reality it also reflected varying strategies marked by class and the cultural
backgrounds of immigrant groups (Tyack 1974; Fass 1989; Green 1990; Kaestle
1973; Kaestle and Vinovskis 1980).
The different understandings of well-being are also played out in the differences
between the family and the educational system. Immigrant families in the United
42 B. Sandin
States who had toiled as farm-hands or factory workers looked at schooling with
suspicion, as working-class parents tended to do elsewhere in the West, but this
attitude was aggravated by their status as newcomers with a foreign cultural
background. Such conflicts are not unique to the United States, but can also be
seen in other countries where mass migration and urbanization were central aspects
of modernization. Doubt was cast upon the usefulness of skills acquired in schools,
as it also was on the attitudes to life and the future that children might pick up in
schools. Schools also imparted routines and values that were grounded in concep-
tions of time associated with a factory-like time control foreign to the rhythm of the
agricultural background of the parents. Such debates focused on urban centers but
had consequences for the organization of rural education as well. Rural schooling
became increasingly valued after the establishment of a national framework by
large school bureaucracies and departments of education (Fass 1989; Tyack 1974;
Sj€oberg 1996; Lassonde 2005; Davin 1996; Maynes 1985; Mintz 2004).
It was possible for new citizens to appreciate an education that could lead to
a profession or degree and serve the family interest, even if it was in conflict with
the background of the parental generation. To immigrant groups like the Irish, Polish,
and Italians, schooling beyond the minimum was not foreign by the beginning of the
twentieth century. However, there were consequences for the identity of the young
adolescents. The detachment of the cognitive, emotional, and social growth of the
youths from these families was worrisome to immigrant families. A separate cultural
space for young people, distanced from the loyalty and demands of the family,
threatened the core of the values immigrant parents had taught their children. Educa-
tion also produced cultural distance to the family, and new patterns of peer culture and
notions of development that were nourished by the extended schooling may have had
consequences for experiences of well-being among children (Lassonde 2005).
An important legacy for the future produced by these institutions of mass
education was the establishment of an idea, and in some locations a reality, that
national educational institutions as a whole should include children from different
social backgrounds and reflect a government responsibility to provide similar
opportunities for all children. Educational systems tended to visualize national
commitments to the younger generation as a whole. The appropriateness of
a comprehensive school for all classes of society influenced the discussion in
countries with parallel school systems – different schools for different social
classes – as well in the United States. The apparent democratization of education,
with working-class children in the education system and with more middle-class
children in public education, made the relationship between public and private
educational facilities problematic in some countries for those children who aspired
to longer education, as the curricula and educational norms differed. The cost of the
investment in children and the demographic transition, with the fall in the birth rate
and the emergence of smaller families, may have influenced increased educational
investment. Childhood had a definite price for these parents. Schools institutional-
ized different childhoods that reflected class and gender divisions, as well as the
division between urban and rural environments (Fass 1989; Lassonde 2005;
Maynes 1985; Miller 1998; Sandin 2010; Ipsen 2010).
The universalistic ambition had consequences for the categorization of children

who did not meet the demands that these educational institutions entailed. The
consequences of a broader recruitment of children also created problems, as the
inclusion of all children contributed to the formation of notions of normality
(closely associated to education for national citizenship) that were to be introduced.
It also made it necessary to sort out children who did not match the criteria of
a normal childhood. In this historical context it became necessary to separate out
the physically and intellectually handicapped. The ability to keep pace with teach-
ing in ordinary schools also became a criterion of normality: a way of defining
difference and a way of defining citizenship.
Children living under moral and material deprivation had to be weeded out from
the public schools and placed in other institutions, as were children with cognitive
problems. Children of the poor became visible, not only from the pulpit and as an
item in the registers, but in overt contrast to all other children. In this project, the
teachers, physicians, and philanthropists began to try to transform the children of the
poor – as all children – into children of the nation, subjects of the new nations.
Deviation from normality – or normal behavior – created by compliance with the
demands of education could be observed and noted in the registers of the educational
system. It was also described and measured with instruments such as intelligence
testing and tables of normal development (Sandin 2010; Turmel 2008; Hendrick
1997; Løkke 1990; Sundkvist 1994; Axelsson 2007; Beatty et al. 2006).
The enormous expansion of school construction that took place in urban centers
in the Western world during the latter half of the nineteenth century reflected the
expansion of elementary educational institutions (Coninck-Smith 2000, 2011).
These impressive buildings also signified an ambition to shape children’s healthy
bodies in spacious classrooms that had appropriate air circulation. These ambitions
for schools covered a wide and complex array of aspects of well-being, from the
protection of children’s bodies and health to education, morals, and behavior.
Historically, these are intertwined with, for example, the moral content of behavior,
cognitive abilities, physical posture, and educational participation. The significance
of childhood also changed in this process. Working gave children of the working
classes social status and a role in the family. Children’s earnings could be
interpreted as a sign of adulthood and may have been expressed in what was
considered inappropriate independence when the children disposed of these
resources. In societies where children in the upper classes were dependent for
a long period of their lives, images of street peddlers and independent laboring
children became problematic. This had a different meaning relative to children in
the colonies, where the otherness of native children reinforced the uniqueness of the
Western understanding of child protection. Children – in the ideal childhood –
should not work, but should rather be dependent on adults for their welfare for
a long time during their upbringing. In the discourse, children’s work in the streets
and elsewhere was associated with loitering and idleness. To a certain extent, work
in the countryside could be associated with play and sound physical and intellectual
development. The establishment of universal education provisions hampered the
use of children as laborers, even though many rural areas also found a way around
44 B. Sandin
the compulsory school attendance regulations. It must be noted that compulsory

schooling did not put an end to children’s work. Some school systems were
constructed to make possible children’s participation in the workforce, while others
intentionally tried to hinder such work. Success varied depending on the social
context. Children have nevertheless continued to combine schooling with domestic
work done within the family (Miller 1998; Sandin 2010; Cunningham 1991, 2006;
Heywood 1988, 2001, 2013; Sj€ oberg 1996; The dynamics of child poverty 2001).
2.5 Well-Being, Nation-Building, Child Saving, and the Study

of Children
The moral coherence and identity of the nations around the beginning of the
twentieth century put special emphasis on the meaning of childhood. Children
were not only a matter for the family but also for the survival of the nation, both
morally and physically. Special focus was put on both the physical and moral
environment of the working classes. This developed differently in various national
contexts, depending on the character of the demands for national cohesion, social
responsibility, and the democratization of education.
Children in schools and summer camps arranged for poor children began to be
described and measured in different ways with the aid of the newly emerging
medical and psychological sciences. The Child Study Movement became an inter-
national intellectual movement. It made important contributions to the development
of social and behavioral sciences and expanded the knowledge of children’s
developmental needs. With an impressive start in “the child study era” in the
early twentieth century, studies on children were for many years mainly conducted
within education, medicine, and psychology with the focus on child development,
normalcy, and delinquency. Child saving created a legacy that defined the academic
interests in the role of children in schools and in the family (Platt 1969; Platt and
Chávez-Garcı́a 2009; Lindenmeyer 1997; Beatty et al. 2006; M€unger 2000;
Richardsson 1989; Smuts 2006). Children were conceptualized in terms of normal
and abnormal development, both cognitive and emotional, and studies were often
conducted in experimental settings. An underlying notion was the importance of
early childhood for the future of adult life, identity, status, and competencies. From
these foundations, research in psychology, sociology, and education developed
these child-focused disciplines and made important advances in understanding
children’s development and their social interactions (Beatty et al. 2006; Axelsson
2007; Fass 2004; Turmel 2008; Lawrence and Starkey 2001).
The educational system provided a channel for politicizing many of these
initiatives. We can note the development of programs to feed hungry school
children, to improve hygiene, to provide school baths on Saturday afternoons,
and to campaign for mass vaccination. Afternoon leisure activities or holiday
camps for the poor were initiated to keep children off the streets during the long
summer vacations. Classes were introduced and curricula developed in the urban
schools to fill the spare time of otherwise idle children. Social programs were
developed around the educational system or in proximity to it. The playground

movement took initiatives in the cities for the benefit of the children of the urban
poor (Cavallo 1981; M€ unger 2000; Paris 2001, 2008; Fass 2004).
The new demands on children to participate in education also involved demands
on families. It was important to create a childhood of a certain standard, as defined
by the criteria of well-being. Mothers were expected to be able to send clean,
healthy children to school on time. Fathers were expected to provide for the whole
family, non-working wife and children alike. The ideal of motherhood, which was
so strongly emphasized in national sentiment at the turn of the century,
complemented such a childhood: a non-useful child and a school child, dependent
on a breadwinning father and a caring mother. The emotional dimension of family
life – the caring element – was also consistent with this kind of change and helped
shape the notions of well-being. A childhood of universal validity had been
established as a norm, based on the demands of educational systems and with
consequences for the universalistic definitions of male and female parenting. It
was certainly not a childhood that always matched up with the social reality of
children in the West, but it could at least be used to measure and define deviance
from the norms and motivate social reform to improve children’s well-being
(Davin 1989, 1996, 1997; Sandin 1997, 2010; Coninck-Smith, Sandin and
Schrumpf 1997; Coninck-Smith 2000; Hendrick 1997; Lawrence and
Starkey 2001).
The development of education not only provided the basis for the analyses of the
“normal” childhood, it also produced a division between school time and “free
time.” This tended to underpin the creation of a youth culture in the twentieth
century. Youth culture and its expression created new sources of worries centered
on films, literature, music, and drinking, that is, about the well-being of children and
the young. Moral panics over children’s consumption and its detrimental effects for
the well-being of children were expressed in the early twentieth century. Discus-
sions about dime novels and films also led to the restriction of the use of such
literature and film censorship. Similar discussions form the undercurrent of debates
about reading comic strips and cartoons, watching videos, and participating on the
Internet during the later twentieth and early twenty-first centuries.
The icon of a child in need of protection from exploitation intermingled with fear
over children’s use of spare time combined to provide the underpinnings for the
development of organizations to keep children busy and their energies directed
toward appropriate goals. Youth organizations – from scouts to wanderf€ ogeln –
expressed ambitions to form a healthy and sturdy youth who exhibited well-being
(Mechling 2013; Springhall 1977, 1998; Cohen 2002; Sparrman et al. 2012;
Strandgaard 2013; Welch et al. 2002).
As a consequence, a number of political issues emerged that had a bearing on
children’s well-being: the upbringing of children in working-class families, the
behavior of children on the streets of urban centers, the effects of new media such as
cheap dime novels and films, the plight of foster children, and single mothers.
During the first two decades of the twentieth century, nations in the West initiated
legislation to address such issues as fostering, adoption, and delinquency.
46 B. Sandin
Such legislation paralleled developments in Western nations during the era of the
child-saving movements.
Laws concerning children laid down the framework for the protection of those
deemed valuable and also the punishment and correction of those who deviated
from the norms. Protection of the well-being of children involved the protection of
society and thus also established the fine line between protection and punishment.
Normality was influenced by what the educational system required of both parents
and children and also by the norms of normal family life as established by
behavioral sciences and the child studies movement. The emotionally valuable
child was entrenched in the norms of the educational system and protective
legislation of different kinds, such as banning the auctioning of children in need
of care to the lowest bidder and legislation on adoption and fostering (Zelizer 1985;
Sundkvist 1994; Hendrick 1990; Platt 1969; Lindgren 2006; Keating 2009; Sandin
2012; Lawrence and Starkey 2001; Gleason 2010).
The development of systems of protection for children empathizes their special
status as children and signifies a way of looking at children’s needs as different
from those of adults. This comes to the fore, not only in the creation of educational
systems and systems of protection but also in the development of special penal and
correctional institutions for children. During the early nineteenth century, such
correctional institutions were established in France, the United Kingdom, the
United States, France, the Netherlands, and the Scandinavian countries. It was
clear to the reformers that the correction of young criminals demanded other
means than those used for adults. Neither in the short nor the long run could
young offenders be kept in the same institutions as adults.
The development of special institutions for children was closely tied to mutual
study visits to other countries in Europe and the United States (Jablonka 2013).
These institutions form the background for the development of special legal
institutions for young offenders during the nineteenth and early twentieth century.
The juvenile court system in the United States made it possible to try underage
offenders in separate and not very court-like proceedings. Children were sentenced
to correction and education rather than prison. At the same time, this court func-
tioned within relatively poorly defined legal parameters. The juvenile court had its
parallel in the development of similar institutions in Europe. The first such institu-
tions were established in Norway and in Illinois (Tanenhaus and Schlossman 2009;
Tanenhaus 2011; Jablonka 2013).
There was interaction between child reformers with different backgrounds
concerning how such institutions should be set up, but we can also note that the
legal character of the institutions was not so distinct. In Scandinavia, the task of taking
delinquent children away from their parents and sending them to reform schools of
different kinds was originally entrusted to the local school board (1902) and, a decade
later, to a child welfare board. This board could also intervene in cases where the
children were considered to be in moral danger, as defined by the behavior of the
children and the caring capacity of the parents. The ways of treating children clearly
reflected the moral values of the middle-class family that were confronted with the
working-class norms and values (Sundkvist 1994; Ericsson 1996, 2002).
The rights and well-being of children formed one perspective on the parents’
ability to live up to such normative standards. Juvenile courts spread as
a phenomenon, but in practice they may have reflected different systems of defining
the well-being of children at risk in different countries. Together they expressed the
idea that children who deviated from the norms were to be dealt with differently
from adult norm-breakers. As a consequence, the institutions that dealt with
children gave less leeway for children to complain and make appeals. Punishments
were meted out that were not limited in time (Sundkvist 1994; Tanenhaus 2011;
Runcis 2007; Ipsen 2006; Bush 2010). The implications of this aspect of well-being
were that children became wards of society rather than autonomous right-bearing
individuals.
The protection of children and of childhood involved philanthropic, central, and
local government agencies and evolved in some places into state or central gov-
ernment ventures. This also entailed the need to define the social commitments of
the welfare obligations in Western nations, including the role of professionals in
child care, particularly in relation to the children of the working classes where the
children seemed most endangered. The interest in children led to a huge number of
new publications, journals, and professional societies. It also brought a need for
clearer definitions of the roles of different professionals in child care. Medical
specialties such as pediatrics and areas such as education and psychology gained
strength and later began to make claims about the nature of children’s well-being.
These professional groups also had influence outside governments and their orga-
nizations. States throughout the West created the basis for welfare schemes through
legislation and institutionalization of government agencies, but they varied in the
extent to which support was given and how it was distributed. This was dependent
on the political culture and role of central and local government (Beatty et al. 2006;
Dickinson 1996; Hendrick 1997).
The very existence of such initiatives, however, served to underwrite the under-
standing of the value of all children for society, counting them as a cost for the
nation and, implicitly, for taxpayers. In some countries, the state stepped in in lieu
of the parents or provided simple support to parents, while in others, the family was
not questioned as the only caring agents in spite of the formation of ambitious
professional societies. National experiences of the urgency cover a wide range.
There was concern in some countries about the consequences of the imminent
population decline due to falling birth rates, while others worried about strong
population growth and migration or the social consequences of the depression
(Hatje 1974; Lindenmeyer 1997; Lindenmeyer and Sandin 2008; Ohlander 1980;
Hirdman 1989; Marshall 2006; Ipsen 2006).
Philanthropic welfare organizations traditionally had their social base in the
upper classes, but during the first part of the twentieth century it shifted to
professional groups. They also started to look for financial support from the local
taxpaying communities and to influence national politics. Steps were taken within
civic society to tie its ambitions to the creation of welfare systems in parts of
Europe, while in the United States, the White House conferences demonstrate how
such initiatives usually fell short of establishing national (i.e., federal)
48 B. Sandin
interventions. Non-governmental organizations, advanced, internationalized, and

partly financed the child study movement and supported organizations for child
guidance in Europe. Such initiatives influenced both philanthropic and government
projects in Europe (Weiner 1995; Hendrick 1997; Lindenmeyer 1997; Beatty et al.
2006; Schmidt 2013; Gullberg 2004).
Child guidance, specifically, and, in more general terms, child saving were part
of the beginning of an internationalization of relief help and social work that
targeted children (Horn 1989; Richardsson 1989; Thom 1992; J€onson 1997; Jones
1999; Stewart 2006, 2009). The atrocities during the First World War and interna-
tional awareness of the vulnerability of children during the period that followed
stimulated the internationalization of philanthropic work for children, as well as the
ambitions to form international conventions. The internationalization went hand in
hand with the development of philanthropy over borders and mobilized financial
support from states as well as civil society organizations (Birn 1996, 2012; Marshall
2013; Janfelt 1998; Nehlin 2009). Non-governmental organizations made it possi-
ble to do social work in other nations’ territories.
At the same time, different ways of approaching the issue of responsibility for the
well-being of children came to the fore in these processes in Western welfare
societies. The distinction between the legal patriarchy dominant in countries that
inherited the rule of Roman law, such as France, and the approach that stems from the
countries whose systems are grounded in common law, such as the United Kingdom
and the United States, also marked the development of social policy and politics. In
France, the government could not intervene and prevent the abuse of children as long
as family authority was upheld and maintained. But in cases where the household
(the patriarch) failed, the government could completely take over responsibility for
the upbringing of children as wards of the state (Jablonka 2013; Schmidt 2013).
Welfare support of families to stimulate population growth was at the same time
directed towards the family rather than individuals in the family. The care of
children was the responsibly of the family. The uniform French system of govern-
ment also underlined the strict application of the same system in all parts of the
nation as defined by the law, allowing little room for interpretation (Jablonka 2013;
Fuchs 1984; Tilly and Scott 1978). In the common law system in the United
Kingdom and the United States, the moral quality and aptitude of fathers and
mothers, as well as their ability to care for their offspring and their health and
education could be evaluated by the court and lead to the separation of unfit parents
and children. The English system was sensitive to parental rights and particularly
their responsibilities to maintain care and economic support of the children
(Schmidt 2013).
In the United States, intervention by the state to protect children against mal-
treatment and abuse in families did not supersede parental rights and implied
a distinct distrust of the federal government’s right to intervene in the protection
of children. This characterizes the early twentieth century efforts in the United
States to develop involvement in the well-being of children, while, for example, the
Scandinavians took a different route. However, Scandinavian countries also differ
in regard to the situations when governments can legitimately intervene in family
life to support children’s well-being. Social work in the various Scandinavian

countries has, for example, used placement of children differently (Lindenmeyer
and Sandin 2008; Downs 2002; Sealander 2003, 2004; Sandin 2012a; Runcis 1998,
2007; Marshall 2006; Andresen et al. 2011; Rutherford 2013).
In this way, the meaning of childhood and well-being was intimately associated
with the way welfare was organized in different countries, but it was also formed by
responses to other important social and political issues. The worldwide depression
stimulated large-scale programs to survey and come to terms with issues such as
child labor, failing educational provisions, and migration in the United States. It
also indicated, for a time, a larger role for the federal government (Lindenmeyer
2013; Schmidt 2013).
In Europe the depression heightened the awareness of the consequences of
declining birth rates and stimulated the development of welfare programs that
would also lead to more stable population bases in the Scandinavian countries
and France. Maternity welfare programs, family (community) housing programs,
and different kinds of labor legislation were created to entice families to have more
children. In some countries, day care for children of working mothers and free
meals in public schools were provided.
Awareness of the declining population gave a specific urgency to the need for
“more children of better quality.” The population quality issue was accompanied by
ambitions to stimulate interest in children’s normality and normal development.
Tendencies to hinder unfit mothers and fathers from reproducing were also
supported with the ambition of shaping the future well-being of children. Such
tendencies were expressed differently in the countries of the Western world, but it
certainly shaped the need to define both family and mothering (Hirdman 1989;
Runcis 1998; Ohlander 1980; Lind 2000; Sandin 2013; Dickinson 1996;
Jones 1999; Schafer 1997, 1992; Ladd-Taylor 1986, 1994; Ladd-Taylor and
Hageman 1997).
2.6 Well-Being, Welfare, and Children’s Rights
Protection of children was initially directed at assuring children had access to

education and health care, and creating and normalizing a standard understanding
of children. Socialization of children aimed, ideally, at the formation of habits and
behavior and the establishment of norms of familial behavior. During the 1930s,
signs of a growing focus on children’s individual, child-centered outlook pointed to
the importance of parents not only as trainers of children but as care-takers of an
egalitarian family culture. The criticism of authoritarian political regimes during
and after World War II linked a behavioral-oriented system of childrearing to
fascism, authoritarian personality traits, and collectivist group behavior. Arnold
Gesell, Francis L. Ilg and Louise Bates Ames 1943 book, Infant and Child Care in
the Culture of Today, supported a developmental ideology based on the individual
child in a democratic family and a democratic society. Dr. Benjamin Spock’s book,
The Common Sense Book of Baby and Child Care (1948), popularized parental
50 B. Sandin
advice based in a developmental understanding of the child and the common sense
of mothers. The recurrent conferences on children in the White House in Wash-
ington brought up a new topic. The happiness of children replaced more socially
oriented topics from before the war, a change that ran parallel to an interest in and
discovery of children as emotional beings (Grant 2013; Beatty et al. 2006; Stearns
2013; Hendrick 1997).
The importance of the biological and nuclear family was also stressed in the
discourses on the well-being of children. During the 1950s and 1960s, these ideas
formed the undercurrent of questions raised about the care of children in orphan-
ages and similar institutions. Policies concerning adoption and foster care that were
developed during the 1950s also emphasized the engineering of situations for
children that were as much like the biological family as possible. Academic and
psychological scholarship also emphasized the need for a close attachment between
mother and child. Attachment theory was influenced by the experiences of the
children evacuated during and after World War II and could point to a number of
negative consequences of the break-up of families resulting from government
policies that removed children to the countryside. Fresh air and country living
could not compensate for the emotional bonds within the family. Thus, during the
1950s, an understanding of children’s well-being developed that stressed the
emotional side of family life rather than the importance of habit formation.
Such modes of understanding also provided the backdrop for the ambitions of
professions to reach and support children in the postwar period. The professions
that represented the new era, such as the partly transformed child psychology and
child psychiatry, supplemented institutions of child guidance and social services for
children. These experts had a strong ideological commitment to provide better
social conditions for children and young people by better accommodating children
in society. Psychoanalytic thinking was also emerging that challenged the ideas of
authoritarian education and child rearing that had as goals habit formation and
moral adjustment in childhood. Instead, children were seen as emotional beings
with strong bonds to the adults in their surroundings, be it parents, other family
members, teachers, or other important adults (Grant 2013; Beatty et al. 2006;
Stearns 2003, 2013; Hendrick 1997; Zetterqvist 2009; Zetterqvist and Sandin
2013; Qvarsebo 2006; Stewarts 2006; Moeller 1998, 1993).
In the years to come, psychiatry would also define psychiatric disorders and
treatment specific to children, which meant that child psychiatry came to be looked
upon as a medical specialty. At the same time, child welfare services, social
services, and school health services treated children and youths with psychological
and social problems by means of practices that had been formed in the development
of social work in different national contexts (Horn 1989; Richardsson 1989; Thom
1992; J€onson 1997; Jones 1999; Fishman 2002; Ludvigsen and Elvbakken 2005;
Ludvigsen and Seip 2009; Evans et al. 2008; Rous and Clark 2009; Weinstein
2002). Such support involved institutions for children with problems, as well as the
placement of children in families that often lacked the capacity to consider the
well-being and needs of children. We can assume the existence of an everyday
pragmatic way of treating children and understanding well-being that was dictated
by national and local cultures as well as international cooperation. Many profes-

sionals, including the child psychiatrists themselves, maintained a critical distance
from the use of a stricter application of psychiatric diagnostic classifications
(Zetterqvist and Sandin 2013; Ludvigsen 2010; Eysenck 1985; Geissman and
Geissman 1993).
National cultures created divergent understandings of definitions of children’s
well-being and the preconditions necessary for its existence. For example, from the
1950s the Anglo-Saxon emphasis on the attachment between children and parents
as the central aspect of good child rearing did not have the same strong position in
Sweden until the late 1990s, in spite of a strong emphasis on the nuclear family.
Swedish psychologists and psychiatrists resisted this stress on the attachment
between mother and children, arguing instead for more modern, institutional
solutions, such as educational and child care facilities, to support the adjustment
of families to modernization (Zetterqvist 2009, 2011, 2012; Lundqvist 2007, 2008).
The educational systems that developed after World War II in European coun-
tries faced the challenges posed by the war in another way that affected the
understanding of children’s well-being. In Germany, the treatment of handicapped
children before and during the war led to the establishment of a special school
system for such children to compensate for their disabilities. In other European
countries, educational systems struggled with how to deal with children with
special needs in educational systems that were increasingly designed to include
all children. In countries such as Sweden and the United Kingdom, this led to the
development of a variety of special educational provisions within the schools and
a classification of the needs of such children for extra support. The necessity to
solve the problem was universal, but the solutions for dealing with the well-being of
children were marked by national cultures (Altstaedt 1977; Sander 1969;
Richardsson 2002; Riddell 2002; Riddell et al. 1994; Meyer 1983).
Such legacies are in part reactions to World War II, as in the case of the emphasis
British scholars placed on attachment. Development in the Scandinavian countries,
the United Kingdom, and the United States represents very specific experiences
shaped by World War II. Equally important is the way the well-being of children
was subsumed during the war. Children were affected by the absence of parents, the
need to participate in the war efforts as workers or soldiers, and as the causalities
due to bombings of civilian populations on both sides and to the Holocaust.
Children from occupied provinces were also put to work in the war industries in
Germany and during the many years of reconstruction in the postwar period. The
large numbers of displaced children in search of families and kin after the war
illustrate that notions of the dependency of children’s well-being on a close attach-
ment to mothers were far from reality for many European children. The number of
children repatriated to their former homelands also made the use of orphanages
common in many parts of Europe. Such placements were seen as environments with
potential to shape ideal future citizens in accordance with an understanding of the
well-being of parentless children. Such institutions remained important and defined
the role of governments in Eastern Europe up until the fall of the Iron Curtain, and
after, which illustrates conflicting and parallel understanding of well-being
52 B. Sandin
(Zahra 2008, 2011; Holian 2011; R€ oger 2011; Venken 2011; Mayall and Morrow
2011; Schuman 2013; Marten 2002; Mann 2005).
Expansion of elementary and compulsory schooling in the post-war period
clarified the central role of the teaching profession as the transmitter of democratic
values in many countries. The development of the understanding of well-being in
the Sweden took a specific turn as a consequence of the traditional character of the
educational system. Innovative national legislation concerning school discipline
created a legacy that linked well-being and rights, which in due time also became
a foundation for the evaluation of well-being in the family.
Respectful child rearing was not compatible with of the right of teachers to
discipline children physically, as was the case in Swedish elementary schools. The
grammar school and the elementary school in Sweden (folkskola) had permitted
different ways of disciplining children, which also reflected the social make-up of
the school. In elementary schools corporal punishment was allowed, but in gram-
mar schools it was banned. During the 1950s, the merging of the two school
systems to create a comprehensive school for all social classes led to a re-evaluation
of which system of discipline should be used. The discussion ended with a blanket
ban on corporal punishment as early as 1957. Psychology – the new science of
childhood – was to fill the gap and help the socialization processes in schools and
families. This also established a notion of children’s integrity and rights as separate
individuals (Qvarsebo 2006; Sandin 2012a). Education as a bastion of democracy
was differently understood in Germany. German, American, and British recon-
structors was wary about the collective education of children outside their families
as something that had nurtured fascism and, later, communism. In both Britain and
Germany, the making of a democratic citizen was in the aftermath of war and
fascism closely associated to family upbringing rather than institutional and col-
lective solutions (Moeller 1993).
The important issue in Sweden, in perspective, was that children in the process
were given the right to the integrity of their bodies, the same right that adults had, thus
transcending, in a manner of speaking, the traditional limits of childhood that had
accorded them special protection and access to social rights such as physical (or
mental ) integrity. This was the beginning of a discussion of children’s integrity in
terms that were taken further in the late 1960s. This led to a ban on the parents’ right
to physically discipline their children that was implemented in 1979 and included in
the family law code (Schiratzki 2000b; Singer 2000; Ewerl€of et al. 2004; Sandin
2012a). In doing so, the state displayed its ambition to protect the individual child and
also to educate the parents. The law was largely perceived as an educational instru-
ment and was intended to run parallel with efforts to educate, primarily, parents of
foreign extraction. The well-being of children was built on notions of the individu-
ality of children and related to a strong welfare state and an egalitarian, comprehen-
sive educational system. We see here an indication of an emerging link between
well-being and rights with relevance for the Scandinavian welfare models
(Sandin 2012a).
This indicates how understanding of the role of the state and its agencies versus
the family in the provisions for children is expressed both in common traits and in
specific national and culturally bound characteristics. Common traits included the
expansion of schools and, in some countries, preschool care and the influence of
professional groups on children’s everyday lives. Family life was increasingly
organized in collaboration with the welfare system in a way that, from an interna-
tional comparative perspective, to varying degrees included and accepted state
regulation of family life and care/well-being of children.
International conventions have also marked the global commitment to an under-
standing that conflicts with children’s work in industrial and agricultural sectors
throughout the world, as well as their participation in an adult labor market. This is
a part of processes whereby children are granted rights that transcend mere access to
social services. Children’s rights to social care form the essence of the United Nations
Convention on the Rights of the Child (UNCRC) but also their physical and intel-
lectual integrity as individuals. Children may be interpreted as bearers of special
rights rather than the universal human rights expressed in the Conventions of Human
Rights (Schmidt 2013). An alternative way of understanding this development is that
the emphasis on the UNCRC extension of the right to physical and intellectual
integrity to children and the right to be listened to places them on equal footing
with adults in these respects. It is clear, however, that as international conventions are
given meaning in national and regional contexts, they will determine how children’s
rights gain significance and influence welfare policy and policies regarding children’s
well-being. In that respect, the Scandinavian welfare states represent a contrast to, for
example, the United States (Archard 1993, 2003, 2004; Archard and Macleod 2002;
Eekelaar 1992; Ewerl€ of et al. 2004; MacCormick 1979; Schmidt 2013; Sealander
2003; Grossberg 2012; Sandin 2012; Fass 2012).
2.7 Welfare in Transition, Child Studies, and New Notions of

Childhood
In different national political contexts, even the concept and practices of welfare have
come to represent entirely different things. In the United States, it is limited to the
support of the destitute and pension schemes, while in Europe the context is broader
and refers to a more fundamental set of institutions in a general infrastructure of
institutions. The different welfare models define the understanding of the responsi-
bility of the state for the well-being of children (Sealander 2003; Esping-Andersen
1990, 1996; Meyer 1983; Kamerman and Kahn 1981; Kahn and Kamerman 1981).
The late twentieth century brought a focus on children’s individual rights just as
the states in Europe abandoned some of their ambitions in shaping living conditions
for children. With market-oriented solutions, the influence of local government on
the welfare policies was strengthened and the responsibility of parents was empha-
sized. At the same time, the late twentieth century was a period during which
criticism of the welfare state’s ability to provide for all children also illustrates its
shortcomings in dealing with aspects of children’s well-being that are now in focus
(Immervoll et al. 2001; Wintersberger et al. 2007; Qvortrup 2007; Bradshaw and
Hatland 2006; SOU 2001: 55). Such critical analyses have pointed to remaining
54 B. Sandin
inequalities in health, but perhaps most importantly to the aspects of children’s

well-being that include emotional and psychological well-being. Interest in
children’s emotional and psychological well-being is an expression of the evolving
understanding of childhood that also involves the development of a new type of
scholarship concerning children and childhood.
This transformation of the scholarship surrounding children and childhood
historically parallels the changes and advances in the child studies movement of
the early twentieth century. During the 1960s and 1970s, research in the humanities
and social sciences opened up such research fields as new family and children’s
history, history from below, and women’s studies, all of which served to pave the
intellectual path for child studies as a field (Wintersberger et al. 2007; Speier 1976).
In the 1980s, there was increasing concern that the study of actual children, if not
absent, was a worryingly rare subject. Researchers with different backgrounds
criticized the way children’s voices and opinions were muted in research and how
there was dependence on perceptions defined by institutional perspectives, by
adults and by professional interests. Knowledge about children reflected, it
was claimed, an adult-centered, paternalistic, and institutional-centered outlook
(Goode 1986; Waksler 1986; Sandin 1986).
In its infancy the social study of children also criticized traditional develop-
mental psychology as it had evolved during the twentieth century, because the
child was construed as a universal category. Models of development inherent in
socialization theory were opposed as being “adultist” in character, with an
emphasis on what children should become rather than taking an interest in what
they were (Ambert 1986; Halldén 1991; Wintersberger et al. 2007). The new
social study of children was based on an ambition to advance the need for a new
research agenda, and it was indeed important in the creation of a new field of
research, though there are reasons to critically question the novelty of some of the
perspectives (James and James 2004; James et al. 1998; Wintersberger et al. 2007;
Ryan 2008).
Scholarship in sociology, and also in disciplines such as history, literature, and
psychology, began to focus on children’s own activities, experiences, skills, and
knowledge, and not merely on their interaction and negotiation with the adult
world. The strongest professional identity in this newborn “child study movement”
was created by a largely British group that proclaimed the birth of the sociology of
children, the new social studies. One early research trend was a strongly social-
constructivist position, which also made the critical analysis of the actors and
agents behind certain constructions of childhood an important part of its scholar-
ship. At the same time there existed a structural sociology of childhood that
regarded children as social facts, structuring society in much the same way as
“class,” “gender,” and “race” (Qvortrup 1994, 2005).
The starting point of child studies as a field was that both childhood and the child
are socially constructed and defined categories, which are multiple and dependent
on time and place (James and James 2004; Jenks 2005; James et al. 1998;
Wintersberger et al. 2007; Halldén 1991). Child studies engendered knowledge,
not only about children and childhood, but also about the society that children and
adults inhabit – the restrictions and opportunities that form everyday life, and how
changes and conflicts affect identities, goals, values, and actions. The “adultism” of
political and social institutions is an underlying premise in the search for
a children’s perspective. In this regard, claims have been made that it is essential
that researchers develop dialogic practices that encourage children to take part and
that may involve engaging with children’s own “cultures of communication” in
everyday life. The implications are to develop research around the systems of
communication that children use with their peers and with their parents (Roberts
2000/2008; Christensen and James 2000; Sparrman et al. 2012; Harrison 1997;
Harris and Holms 2003).
Much research in this broader field of child studies has been based firmly on
disciplinary traditions, although it has also been attentive to common intellectual
frameworks. The new sociology of childhood has been challenged from within to
broaden its perspective and to be more interdisciplinary and more empirically
focused (Prout 2005). Children and childhood have also become a part of a wider
on-going discussion of approaches such as sociological standpoint theory, linguis-
tic/anthropological discourse theory, visual research methodology, the bottom-up
perspectives in the social sciences, and social and narrative history – all of which
have been applied to children and childhood, both separately and in close interac-
tion. Sociological, anthropological, and psychological researchers have influenced
one another in the study of children’s conditions and the construction of childhood,
as have historical and sociological scholars (Hendrick 2003; Turmel 2008).
Other edited volumes on child studies illustrate the breadth of alternatives in
defining the field. We can therefore note many different ways of carrying out
child studies, influenced by various theoretical and methodological frameworks
and by combining different scholarly traditions (Kehily 2004; James and James
2008; Christensen 2008).
A view of children as a social group – a structural perspective (Alanen and
Mayall 2001; Qvortrup 1994; Wintersberger et al. 2007) – has also enabled scholars
to break down the sectorially defined perception of children and to cast new light on
the meaning and consequences of age structuring in modern societies (Qvortrup
1994; N€arv€anen and N€asman 2007). Childhood is a constant social phenomenon but
is created by different generations of children. Childhood therefore always exists,
but it is given different meanings as a consequence of political and social changes.
Children’s lives can be understood as a whole, and research about school and the
private and public spheres must be interlinked. Children’s experiences of childhood
are composite – influenced by age, gender, class, and ethnicity –- and are dependent
on variable temporal and spatial contexts, but at the same time they are permanent
social phenomena.
As childhood emerged as a contested category in scholarship and in current
European society, it underscored how different professional groups and institu-
tional agents claim to know “what is best for the child” and what constitutes an
auspicious childhoods as has been discussed by a long series of scholars. This
supports the need for scholarship that is critically oriented to combine the study of
children’s interactions with that of welfare systems and politics (Prout 2005;
56 B. Sandin
Turmel 2008; Alanen 2007; Sandin 2012a, b). Others have stressed the importance
of joining the traditions of childhood sociology with welfare studies in a more
coherent and integrated approach. Such discussions about the interrelationship
between the welfare system, families, and children and between the political and
the lived experiences are also deeply rooted in historical perspectives that combine
studies of children, childhood, and policy (Therborn 1993; Hendrick 2003;
Cunningham 1995; Lassonde 2005; Fass 2007; Sundkvist 1994; Sandin and
Halldén 2003). A number of studies also amount to support for political claims,
for example, the idea that children have the right to compensation for schooling
(Qvortrup 2005).
The significance of this newborn and redirected interest in child studies is found
not only in the parallels to the child studies movement around the turn of the
nineteenth century, but also its participation in shaping institutions and policies
for children. It is the very intellectual underpinning of an understanding of children
as agents and of a governance of society that includes listening to children’s needs.
The best interest of children is not only a directive in an international convention
but also an instrument of governance in modern welfare societies.
2.8 Dilemmas of Childhood and Change: The UNCRC,

Well-Being of Children, and Children’s Rights’ Regimes
The well-being of children in today’s Europe (16 % of Europe’s population is

fifteen years old or younger (EUROSTAT 2008)) comprises new challenges in the
dilemmas that confront the new generations. The members of this group are to be
seen not only as individuals soon to enter adulthood and enjoying citizenship, but
also as current members of society with a given status that includes the right to have
their own voice heard and their present lives and interests elucidated. In a manner of
speaking, children are granted a sort of citizenship in limbo at the same time as
current social, material, and cultural changes are creating new challenges for
children and their families in their everyday lives (Changing childhood in a
changing Europe 2009; Sandin 2012a,b; Schmidt 2013; Kamerman and Kahn
1981; Näsman 1998).
Children are experiencing the effects of changed patterns of household forma-
tion and dissolution, transnational migration, religious and civil tensions and
conflicts, increasing economic inequality, and more socially differentiated spatial
patterns in cities. This means that the experience and contexts of the lives of
children are becoming – or at least are understood to be – more diverse but also
more influenced by factors that create greater similarity. Children experience the
parental strains of work and family obligations and are part of the complex daily
routines that households and communities set in place in response to the activities
and needs of their different members. At the same time, concerns about children’s
deviant and antisocial behavior and increased levels of youth violence form part of
on-going debates and stimulate the launch of stricter legislations and policies in
relation to children.
Social and cultural spaces for children are being transformed and illustrate new
demands and dilemmas. Across the Western world, children spend much of their
everyday life in institutions such as schools, day care centers, and after-school
clubs, as well as a significant amount of time moving between these places and their
other activities. Within these different locations children interact in friendship and
peer groups that are important for the ideas, values, and practices they develop.
Children have access to many sources of information and values, which further
broaden their socialization. The mass media, consumerism, and public services
constitute children as individuals who then have to construct their personal
and social identities from a diversity of ideas, beliefs and products (Bradshaw
and Hatland 2006; Frønes 1995, 2006; N€asman 1992; Zeiher 2007; N€arv€anen and
N€asman 2007; Sparrman et al. 2012; Cook 2013).
Children’s individuality and independence are also encouraged through discourses
of child participation in decision-making at both central and local levels. Different
national political and legislative traditions that define family and generational relations
come to the fore in increased European cooperation, and they illustrate dependency on
different cultural, historical, economic, and political traditions.
At the same time, and partly as a consequence, conflicting notions and ideals of
everyday life have been highlighted in contemporary Europe and North America.
For many, life is characterized by uncertainty and anxiety, the change of recognized
social institutions, and the development of new forms of social networks and
relationships, combined with a greater personal responsibility for the shaping of
one’s own individual biography, Such are the arguments of sociologists such as
Giddens and Beck (Giddens 1993; Beck 1997; Beck and Beck-Gernsheim 2002).
These conflicting notions, uncertainties, and practices also shape understandings
of childhood in society and the situation of children and young people. They affect
relationships between children and adults in different settings or the strategies
children and young people use to cope with the ambiguities that these opposing
ideals produce (Thorne 1993; Lee 2001; Frønes 2003; Danby and Theobald 2012;
Goodwin et al. 2012; Tuitt 2000; Turkoski 2005; N€asman 1992). The claims of
modern sociology in the portrayal of an increasingly individualistic society also shape
the way the family and children are addressed by welfare systems. These claims also
create an understanding of modern children as vulnerable and of childhood in the
classic sense as a period of innocence and growth that is threatened.
While globalization has formed new identities, the role of the state has changed
and given professionals new and different positions. Professionals have to assert
their knowledge in a market of consultants in competition with an array of experts,
rather than being the mere agents of the state. Welfare is defined in new ways and
“the best interests of the child” – whether formulated as rights or protection – is at
the core of these formulations (An-Naim 1994; Lundqvist and Petersen 2010;
Sandin and Halldén 2003; Zeiher 2007; Bennet 2006). Participants are expected
to take children’s rights and “the best interests of the child” into consideration,
which again supports an understanding of well-being voiced by children and its
institutional and familial contexts (Bluebond-Langner 1975, 1980, 1996; Harris and
Holms 2003, Harrison 1997, Gillies 2005b, 2012).
58 B. Sandin
UNCRC forms the undercurrent of the distinct set of international norms that
support the need to listen to the voice of children. In this process, “the best interests
of the child” and “quality of life for children” have been held up as the goals of
social policy interventions and of private institutions within the welfare system, and
they involve an imperative to listen to the views of children. “The best interests of
the child” are expressed in partly new modes: as children’s rights in legal and
pedagogical terms, as a right to be an informed and empowered citizen, and as an
individual right. Citizenship takes on a meaning for the younger generation.
Moreover, it is formulated as a right to gain access to information channels and
media technologies. These rights are made means and goals in many forms of
welfare distribution, social-policy interventions, private institutions, and the global
market (Ericsson 1996, 2002; Stang 2007; Sandin and Halldén 2003; Sandin 2013;
Sparrman et al. 2012; Mayall 1994, 2002; Aarsand 2007; Lindgren and Halldén
2001; Brembeck et al. 2004; Buckingham 2000).
Important aspects with consequences for the understanding of children are the
focus on children’s need for protection, the responsibilities of society, and the idea
that children have rights of their own that are not subordinated to the family.
Children’s own voices should be heard and respected, and they should have access
to independent information. Children are described as competent and autonomous.
This way of presenting children as both dependent and competent is also important
and reflects the reorganization of welfare systems with a long historical legacy in
the Scandinavian countries (Lindgren and Halldén 2001; Sandin and Halldén 2003;
Therborn 1993; Theunissen et al. 1998). This runs contrary to the understanding
and development of children’s right as conceived in the United States, where the
Supreme Court has had difficulty accepting legal doctrines defined by international
agencies such as the UN. Nor can it readily accept the rights of children surpassing
those of the family (Grossberg 1983, 1988; Alaimo and Klug 2002; Guggenheim
2005; Popenoe 1988, 2009).
The UNCRC upholds a notion of childhood as a period where children’s lives are
organized differently than lives in the adult world; they are dependent, growing and
cared for, while they are also competent agents. In such an ideological framework
children should not work as adults. In some Western societies, the understanding
of children’s work has been re-evaluated and reconceptualized to include a large
variety of work (Samuelsson 2008, 2012b; S€oderlind and Engwall 2008).
Large numbers of teenage girls and boys have entered the workforce, balancing
school with paid employment. Some scholars also claim that children’s schooling
must be regarded as work and properly rewarded as such. Children’s acquisition and
production of knowledge in schools constitute productive work as much as any work
done in knowledge-based industries and should receive reasonable pay (Qvortrup
2007). Looking at children’s work in this manner undermines the notion of differ-
ence between children and adults and gives certain legitimacy to the participation of
young people in the workforce with the same kind of welfare protective measures as
for the adult world.
The role of the family and parenting vis-à-vis children is still crucial in a society
that stresses the relative autonomy of children and the dependency of children on
actors outside the family. But more importantly, the concept “the best interests
of the child” and the voice of children have become links between the individual
and the state; between children’s everyday lives and international norms; and
between norm formation and politics (Sandin and Halldén 2003; Kilkelly 2001;
Alston 1994; Eldén 2012). Children’s lives are subsumed in the expectation that
they relate to the same human arenas in which adults interact. There is no self-
evident, separate space for children, and they must share conceptual spaces with
adults in terms of the arenas that shape children’s lives. At the same time and as
a consequence of young people’s difficulties of representing themselves politically,
a significant aspect of the struggle over the well-being of children is the establish-
ment of organizations for children and young people with the purpose of
representing their rights in society. The relationship between such organizations
and governments vary and reflect the character of the welfare systems (for exam-
ples, see Children’s Helplines).
This does not necessarily mean that adults define all such spaces. Quite the
contrary, children are exposed to the global commercial market in new ways. New
media and media technologies are made part of children’s everyday lives (Aarsand
2007; Buckingham 1998, 2000; Deakin 2006). Preschools, schools, private homes,
and public spaces are saturated with images from an international popular culture
that portrays life in novel ways. Children are expected to interact with these images
and use them as they construct an identity. By stressing children’s rights to
information channels and access to media, the UNCRC denotes the idea that
media technologies are important, empowering tools for children. However, such
rights underpin the risk that the consequent media consumption also can be
understood to represent a significant risk for their health and well-being (Sparrman
2006; Vallberg Roth 2002; Sparrman et al. 2012; Holland 1992; James and Prout
1990).
The evolving understanding of the individuality of children and the rights of
children in relationship to the state and governments has other consequences.
Children that grew up and were maltreated in orphanages or in foster care now
demand compensation or an apology for being wronged in the past. A certain
standard of childhood is presented as an inalienable individual right that can be
reclaimed – or compensated – as an adult. The voices of adults also become
important as sources of information about well-being during their lives as children.
This politics of apology has marked the political debates in Western countries and
ranges from the apology for maltreatment of children of German fathers in Norway
in the aftermath of World War II to foster children in Sweden and the children of
ethnic minorities in Australia. There is renewed interest of the psychological effects
of World War II experiences (R€ oger 2011; Andersson 2011; Swain and Musgrave
2012; Sk€ old et al. 2012; Sk€
old 2013; Pesonen and R€aikk€onen 2012) that represents
both a common trend and very specific modes of dealing with issues resulting from
actual historical events. This development is also shaped by the culture of gender,
class, and ethnic relationships, as well as the role of government. In this context, the
evolution of Western governance becomes an important issue in the shaping of an
understanding of children’s well-being.
60 B. Sandin
The position of children has also evolved from the point of view of government,
according to Esping-Andersen (1990, 1996, 1999, 2002). The welfare states of
Europe are identified with essential features of today’s societies, from the impor-
tance of children to the social investment state. He demonstrates that Europe is
moving away from primarily securing the distribution or redistribution of wealth.
Rather, welfare spending has become an investment in future economic growth, and
children are important targets for such investment. The social investment state sees
children as a form of human capital at the same time as children’s participation is
set in focus. Children are (and are encouraged to be) important in constructing their
own futures and in acquiring the skills and competencies for work and citizenship.
This perspective has encouraged the integration of education, health, and social
services for children in different ways (for example, in Children’s Services) which
presuppose an investment in the child as a whole. Esping-Andersen’s understanding
and definition of welfare is based on the notion that children and young people are
understood to become something different, to grow out of the childish state and
become productive adults. Such an understanding of the organization of the modern
welfare system can be described as adult in character, disregarding the social
agency of children and adding that it is incompatible with a sociological under-
standing of children as being and not simply becoming (Alanen 2001; Lee 2001;
Halldén 1991; Lister 2006, 2008).
It is certainly difficult to reconcile this view with the focus on children’s agency as
it is presented in much current research on childhood in the welfare state. Childhood in
the late welfare state has been increasingly viewed as a period when the child’s
competence is stressed through the state’s less normative and regulatory role, and
children’s rights are defined on the basis of international conventions. The formation
of concepts such as “the best interests of the child” and “a child perspective” mobilizes
children as citizens and legal subjects and emphasizes children’s autonomy from the
family. Simultaneously, children’s rights are no longer the basis for only administra-
tive decisions in the welfare state, but are instead negotiated in different contexts in
terms of the norms established in the UNCRC, although applied differently in various
European countries. However, it is the parents who are responsible for realizing the
true potential in the investments in children. Such expectations are complicated as
research shows that different modes of parenting/marriage patterns have definite
consequences. Marriage patterns go hand-in-hand with the character of the birth-
rates and investments in children’s welfare. These differ when broken down on
national and regional levels in the Western world, and they indicate the important
role of parents as agents in interaction with welfare systems (Qvortrup 2007).
Esping-Andersen points to the differences between the different welfare
regimes. A neo-liberal regime, also defined as an Anglo-Saxon model, minimizes
state involvement, targeting social risk groups and high levels of need with
a sector of private welfare providers. The social democratic model is built on
universal state-run models of welfare, while a conservative model is found in
countries such as France, Italy, and Germany. In reality these ideal types are
blurred and have changed (Arts and Gelissen 2002) but they have shaped the
development of policy towards children and families and confirm patterns that can
be identified from earlier centuries. However, a new aspect is the fact that
European cooperation establishes a new arena for negotiation of the standards
of well-being for children.
The implementation of the UNCRC has made children’s lives and well-being an
increasingly important part of politics in Europe. In the last decade, various EU
institutions have taken an increasing interest in child law (Towards an EU Strategy
2006). The European Court of Justice (ECJ) renders verdicts on child law issues on
a regular basis. There are several reasons for this development, such as the impact
of the EU’s social and rights-based agenda, the delineation of domestic and EU
competence, children’s rights campaigns that transcend national borders, and the
increasing perception of children as key investments in securing the prosperity of
the aging, as touched on above (Stalford and Drywood 2009).
The importance of parents in the realization of welfare schemes, the evolution of
a social investment model of welfare, and interest in children’s experiences and
voices cast light on the understanding of children and childhood. Children’s agency
and competence are certainly central aspects that provide the rationale and spur an
interest in how children define their understanding of the world and life situation. It
is these initiatives by government agencies and civil society organizations as well
as by scholars and research funding agencies that will decode the well-being of
children that has become such an important aspect of welfare systems. Such new
knowledge also redefines notions of the normal and gives substance to an expansion
of diagnoses and a debate between competing professionals about the substance of
such diagnoses. Consequently, new children’s maladies or scenarios of risk are
being described, much within territory earlier disregarded as less important to the
development of society, that is, children’s emotional and mental well-being, and
particullarly the difference in the measures of well-being between girls and boys.
Social and welfare policy also expect such knowledge to be shaped so that it can
be of use in social planning. This points to the need for so-called evidence-based
social science, but it also raises critical objections and questions about how it
redefines social policy (Furedi 2001; Kamerman et al. 2010; Sandin 2011, 2012b;
Bremberg 2004; Bergnéhr 2012; Barn 2012; Dekker 2009; Erchak and Rosenfelt
1989; Petersson et al. 2004; SOU 2008:131, 2001:55; Dahlstedt 2012; Wiss€o 2012;
Frosh et al. 2002; Changing childhood in a changing Europe 2009). In this context,
we can also identify novel arenas in which the well-being of children is seen as
a common problem with different outcomes in different countries. The relationship
between peers in schools and in media has led to attention being paid to bullying
and children’s understanding of such interaction, which actualizes the many differ-
ent ways bullying can be interpreted culturally (Coloroso 2003; Li et al. 2012;
Hinduja and Patchin 2009; Osvaldsson 2011; Cromdal and Osvaldson 2012; Horton
2011; Watson et al. 2012).
International adoption has, during the last decades, been discussed in terms of
the psychological and mental well-being of adopted children. In the Scandinavian
countries such interest has focused largely on the racialized identities construed
for children with foreign backgrounds in relationship to the mainstream society.
Similar concerns over the well-being and culture of adoptees are also voiced in
62 B. Sandin
other countries as, for example, the United States, but with very different discursive
patterns, which reflect both the differences of the ethnic character of social work
and politics of identity in the United States (Gill and Jackson 1983; Haslanger and
Witt 2005, H€ ubinette and Andersson 2012; Andersson 2012; Lind 2012).
The migration of children with and without families, escaping from oppression,
war, and natural disasters has also put focus on the well-being of migrant children in
Europe. This includes their reception, caring facilities, and interpretation of the best
interests of the children as well as the grounds on which some children are
extradited. In some cases, it has also caused an intensive debate on what psychiatric
diagnoses can be used to describe mental conditions of apathy in children, which
brings to the fore both the character of the reception children receive and the
cultural biases of psychiatric diagnoses, and the on-going political negotiation of
the meaning of childhood in Europe, where notions of childhood are shaped by the
interaction with politics in a post-colonial majority world (Lundberg 2009;
Andersson et al. 2010; Andersson 2005; Hansen 2008; Eastmond 2007; Gold and
Nawyn 2012; Ingelby 2005; Watters 2008; Schiratzki 2000a, b, 2003, 2005, 2009;
Tamas 2009; Bodegård 2006; Brekke 2004a, b; Hacking 2002; Halligan et al. 2003;
Bhabha and Young 1999; Keselman 2009; McAdam 2006).
The focus in policy debates about mental well-being and parenting have shaped
the background of new aspects of the welfare policies in European countries and at
the European level. Educating parents to care for children has become a central aspect
of the transformation of welfare, but it also reflects the interdependence of notions of
children and parents. Competent children require a notion of competent parents. At
a central European social policy level, and also in the United States, such ambitions
point toward common trends in the models of support of parents to further the well-
being of children (Gillis 2005a, b, 2008, 2012; Oelkers 2012; Rutherford 2013;
Changing childhood in a changing Europe 2009; ESO 1996; Ellingasaeter and
Leira 2006; Edwards and Gillis 2004; Fashimpar 2000; Gustavsson 2010; Halldén
2010; Johansson 2012; Kutscher 2012; Larner 2000; Lansdown 2005).
In some nations, such as Sweden, policies for developing a system of compre-
hensive parental programs form the backbone of social conservative welfare that is
set on protecting the rights of children within the families by further educating the
parents. The ambition to shape a comprehensive system of support demonstrates at
the same time the dependence on the traditional Swedish social welfare model.
It also demonstrates the problems associated with importing support programs
developed in cultural contexts where parenting and rights of children are set
according to different cultural norms in, for example, the Anglo Saxon countries,
but are ironically used to reach groups of immigrants to Sweden from majority
world countries (Gleichmann 2004; Sandin 2011, 2012a, b; Barn 2012; SOU
2008:131). In parts of Europe, the ambitions are less systematic and based on
initiatives from certain sections of government or welfare agencies. A divide exists
between Northern and Southern Europe that may reflect different understandings of
the integrity of the family and the role of government (Boddy 2009).
It is therefore not surprising that the common cultural values as expressed in the
UNCRC disintegrate into different national or regional ways of defining childhood
and norms for the lives lived by children. The evolution of internationalization
creates the need for comparative data on children’s well-being in different countries
and regions. This, in turn, also necessitates the conceptualization of the terms in
which children’s lives are understood – in terms of not only poverty levels but of
health, education, income, and subjective well-being (Kamerman et al. 2010;
Richter and Andresen 2012; Webb 2010; Bradshaw 1993; Bradshaw and Hatland
2006; Bradbury et al. 2000).
Comparative data reveal dramatic differences, not only between rich and poor
countries, but also between and within rich counties (UNICEF 2007; Bradshaw and
Hatland 2006). Analyses show that children’s de facto well-being varies quite
dramatically even among rich countries that do not lack the financial resources to
promote children’s rights and protect their well-being. Reports from UNICEF’s
Innocenti Research Centre reveal major differences between Northern European
countries, including Sweden, and Anglophone countries, such as the United King-
dom and the United States, when it comes to indicators measuring a variety of
dimensions of well-being. For example, while child poverty remains above 15 % in
the Anglophone countries, it has fallen to below 5 % in the Nordic countries.
Similarly, looking at data measuring infant mortality rates, Sweden has a rate
lower than 3 deaths per 1,000 births, whereas the rate in the United States is more
than double (7 %). Similarly stark differences apply if we look at data on low birth
weight rates and other dimensions of well-being such as education, accidents,
childhood death rates, and housing (UNICEF 2007).
While careful analysis of each dimension and the indicators that are used to
measure these suggest a degree of complexity, no one country performs satisfacto-
rily in all aspects. It is nonetheless clear that certain patterns do emerge. Among the
21 OECD countries, at the aggregate level UNICEF ranks a cluster of countries that
score well (Netherlands and the Nordic countries) as well as a few countries
(the United Kingdom and the United States) that score poorly, while other coun-
tries, including France, occupy a middling position. Furthermore, it appears that no
correlation exists between sheer economic wealth and levels of well-being,
suggesting the need for a more subtle approach in analyzing these differences.
A similar pattern emerges when we turn from well-being to rights, laws, and
policies, which indicate interdependence. While the broad support for the United
Nation’s Convention on Children’s Rights of 1989 suggests a general agreement on
what such rights entail, differences of interpretation, in fact, run deep, widely
reflecting varying norms regarding childhood, family values, and the proper rela-
tions between the state and family. In the case of the United States, we also have to
assume that the resistance to the convention is based on a reluctance to accept
international conventions as formative for US law. Differences can be understood
as reflecting the differences between rights’ regimes that can be understood to steer
the relations between individual, family, and state (Berggren and Tr€agårdh 2009;
Tr€agårdh and Berggren 2010; Alston and Tobin 2005). These political orders will
produce distinctly different ways of defining well-being.
Variations in children’s well-being are related to variations in the way in which
children’s rights are institutionalized and rooted in fundamentally distinct
64 B. Sandin
conceptions of the proper relationship between state, family, the individual, and
civil society. While protection of the child has historically been the most compel-
ling argument in favor of statist intervention, the state’s claims to authority in the
domestic realm have challenged the sovereignty and privacy of the family and have
therefore not gone uncontested. The nature of these conflicts and the ways that
boundaries between state and family have been redrawn were, however, shaped by
particular national, cultural, and religious contexts. We have seen how the Western
nations represent different models and very different examples of typical regimes of
children’s rights and well-being that express an historical legacy with deep cultural
roots. With respect to well-being rates, according to the latest UNICEF review of
“Child Well-being in Rich Countries,” Sweden ranks very high, the United States
very low, and France in-between (UNICEF 2007). Secondly, they represent radi-
cally divergent models in terms of how relations between the state, the family, civil
society, and the individual are institutionalized (Berggren and Tr€agårdh 2009).
In the United States, political culture has been characterized by a tension
between progressive elements oriented towards social engineering and an anti-
statist tradition committed to individual liberty and the autonomy of civil society.
Whereas in the early twentieth century progressivism held sway, later in the century
socially conservative “family values” have often superseded children’s rights by
giving primacy to the integrity and privacy of the family in its relationship to the
state. The federalist structure also makes it difficult to create coherent policies
concerning children and children’s rights (Sealander 2003; Grossberg 1983, 2012;
Fass and Grossberg 2012).
By contrast, in Sweden the child has served as both the imaginative and political
linchpin of the incipient welfare state, and children’s rights have therefore played
a central role. The Swedish welfare state or folkhemmet (“the people’s home”) has
represented itself not only as a metaphorical home for its citizens, but also as the
emancipator of the autonomous individual seeking refuge from the authority of the
patriarchal family and, by extension, other hierarchical and patriarchal institutions
of civil society. The state’s role herein has been a dual one: to preserve the
autonomy and integrity of each individual, including the child, and to promote
a far-ranging conception of social equality across gender, age, and class lines. The
effect of this alliance between state and individual with respect to the family has
been complex. It has made individual members of each family, including children,
less dependent on one another, while it has also made the family as a whole
less dependent on the institutions of civil society and the vagaries of the market
(Berggren and Tr€agårdh 2009; Tr€agårdh 1997, 1999; Sandin 2012a; Bradshaw and
Hatland 2006; Popenoe 1988, 2009; Duvander and Andersson 2006; Ferrarini 2006;
Hernes 1987; Hinnfors 1992; Johansson 2004, 2009; Klinth 1999, 2002; Lundqvist
2008; Forsberg 2009).
In France, one also sees a strong statist approach to children. However, in
contrast to Sweden, the state has been less concerned with the emancipation of
individuals; rather its chief concern has been to preserve the integrity of the
traditional family. Until the last couple of decades, the agenda of the French state
with respect to the family has primarily been that of promoting population growth
through the creation of conditions under which families can live healthy, productive
lives. France has shared with Sweden a decommodified approach to the family, and
to children in particular, seeing them more as a link to state policy as opposed to
autonomous actors in a market society. Thus, the French historical experience and
sociopolitical model contrasts in crucial ways with both those of Sweden and the
United States (Downs 2002; Meyer 1983; Schafer 1997; Kamerman and Kahn
1981; Tilly and Scott 1978; Fuchs 1984; Fishman 2002; Rosanvallon 2007; Bermeo
and Nord 2000).
Such differences in normative ideals that are hard to quantify and measure are
expressed in the variation found in concrete laws, rights, and policies, which are
easier to analyze. While there is a relative paucity of systematic, comparative
data on laws and policies, another recent report from UNICEF, which seeks to
rate the early childhood services of 25 OECD countries in terms of 10 legislative
benchmarks, has produced a list remarkably similar – though not identical – to the
well-being rankings discussed above. Again, Nordic countries occupy the top tier,
while Anglophone countries (Ireland, Canada, Australia, United States) are found at
the very bottom (UNICEF 2007).
2.9 Summary
The narrative in this chapter demonstrates both international and national or regional
understandings of well-being that express general and global and long-, medium-,
and short-term trends of change. It also points out that the understanding of children
in history is shaped by local, regional, and national developments and international
changes. Such trends are made by different political or religious cultures in various
nations that shape how specific childhoods were formed and consequently how well-
being was to be understood. The understanding of well-being is expressed both
through the institutions of education and care created for children and through
discussions about what is good for children that are voiced by the professional
groups that claim precedence in the defining of well-being. Different political and
academic cultures will ultimately have significance for what roles these profes-
sionals play in defining the life and role of children. The struggle over the meaning
of childhood derives from the parallel existence of different institutional arrange-
ments and various understandings of childhood. In a given historical context,
progressive reform has existed side-by-side with traditional systems of care. The
understanding of children’s well-being is consequently never homogenous.
Family history research demonstrates how the resilience of families in periods of
rapid transformation created a continuity between rural and urban areas, between
agrarian and industrial regions, and between old countries and new, but its short-
comings in terms of ability to provide necessities for children were reflected in
restructuring of decimated families and in high rates of child mortality and child
abandonment. It is from that perspective religion, secular government, and civil
society regulated, controlled and supported families. Throughout history such
support has involved moral preaching, spreading knowledge, and providing
66 B. Sandin
material assistance to families defined as inadequate to guarantee the well-being of

children. The well-being of children has been of importance to families and
households given the material and cultural frameworks. Consequently, households
also demonstrate different ambitions and abilities to care for and to meet the needs
of children, both in terms of past definitions and in terms used in present societies.
A struggle of definitions of need and well-being between classes, regions, and
cultures can be traced over the centuries. Such needs are constantly redefined
and the government and religious and civil society organizations have evaluated
which needs were to be deemed legitimate for support – thereby setting standards
for well-being. Such standards have also always had a moral and political side and
included an interest in how parents managed the moral upbringing of their children.
Different religious communities and legal traditions define the family as a spiritual
and moral unit. Its relationship to the state has shaped the character and extent of
institutions such as foundling homes, orphanages, and schools differently in differ-
ent parts of the West. Physical and mental care have also had a moral side.
Child welfare became an issue during the eighteenth century and earlier, partly
due to criticism of children’s participation in the labor force, but also a result of
extreme poverty and child abandonment. The discussions also had implications for
children’s moral, psychological, and mental states, which connected evaluations of
the working conditions with family care and the living conditions of street children,
abandoned children, and children of single parents. The establishment of foundling
hospitals and orphanages for children reflects concerns over the well-being of
children. Sensitivity to children’s social and material well-being included concerns
about their moral and civic roles and the social consequences of a failed up-bringing
for society at large. Political discussions during the eighteenth and early nineteenth
centuries combined these matters with a focus on criteria for the deserving and
undeserving poor. Poverty at a young age and the failure of the older generation to
provide transformed the child’s status among the lower classes to a risk criteria that
in no way guaranteed support from society.
The mid- and late nineteenth century saw an emerging interest from govern-
ments to survey and discuss the conditions under which young people lived. These
focused on child labor, health, emigration, and housing conditions. Such engage-
ment was an expression of fear that children’s detrimental social conditions hin-
dered national efforts to develop industries or uphold overseas dominions and wage
war. It also involved extensive charting and description of the conditions under
which children lived. These efforts were also closely linked to moralizing over the
life choices of children and women and the connection between poverty and poor
morals. The development of mass education reflected to a great extent such worries
in the Western world. The well-being of children also had a moral educational side
and a relationship to children’s civic roles as future adults and citizens. In the
educational systems that were developed from the late nineteenth century, different
criteria of well-being were applied to children of different social classes, genders,
and ethnic groups. Well-being was also understood differently given the perspec-
tives of the school reformers and those of parents. The objectives of having children
go to schools were fundamentally different.
The development of education also had other effects. It went hand-in-hand with
increased interest in children’s health, and mass education opened an avenue to
inspect children in terms of development and health. By means of school medical
inspections and the work of other health organizations, medical professions were
able to increasingly observe the detrimental effects of children’s social conditions
and family life: attempts to combine schooling and labor; social, physical, and
emotional deviance; abnormality; and disease. In some countries these institutions
became an integrated part of the health commitments made by central governments.
Common features are a joint Western intellectual interest in the study of children
and young people in the early twentieth century.
The Child Study Movement thrived on the large numbers of children assembled
in the educational system and initiated discussions about the qualities that made for
a good upbringing. This led to the creation of social and institutional arrangements
that normalized the child through a wide variety of instruments. These ranged from
testing in schools, organized play, and summer schools to institutions for children at
risk. These processes also indicate the relationship between the visibility of children
on the streets of the towns and in factories, on the one hand, and an urge among
political elites to regulate the life of children of the lower classes, on the other.
Well-being was accordingly contextualized in relationship to the nature of
children’s activities but also to their location or place. Work within the context of
the family was preferred to work outside the household. Hazardous work conditions
for children could be accepted on the family farm and have been up until the present
day in some national contexts. But children’s independent activities as breadwin-
ners were not condoned as appropriate and could also easily be labeled as idling.
The well-being of children was closely associated with dependence on adult pro-
viders, a certain quality of family life, and certain kinds of activities such as play
and education.
At the turn of the twentieth century and during it first half, childhood took on
its shape as a special period in a person’s life, and children were described as
having distinctive features and possessing special rights. Childhood was also
defined as a period of limited capacities and growth – a period to get through as
soon as possible – but not before attaining an appropriate level of maturity.
Childhood became a period of development under the eyes and support of parents
and professionals and, as such, an important arena of research for the emerging
professions. An important aspect of the sanctification of children was their
vulnerability and need for protection. As a consequence of the social and cultural
perils, it became a state of being where one should not linger too long, for to be
a child was to be incompetent, half, and incomplete. It could be a dangerous
period if in the care of incompetent adults; problems with children were at times
sought in the underperformance of families, or, more specifically, of mothers. The
well-being of children was clearly closely associated to upbringing in families
and to female care.
The construction of welfare meant that children’s welfare was evaluated vis-à-
vis the welfare and role of parents. This has meant that different bodies of legisla-
tion have defined the meaning of childhood and the responsibilities of the state in
68 B. Sandin
relation to the family and children. Many initiatives and social services for children
were implemented by nongovernment organizations. Philanthropic organizations
increasingly engaged not only the philanthropic upper and middle classes but also
professionals to a greater extent. Their ambitions, combined with those of the public
child care professionals and politicians, led them to seek full-scale state support and
backing by national legislation. This was the case with child care, child guidance
clinics, maternity clinics, and compulsory school lunches in the most ambitious
welfare systems, while in other Western nations the state was less ambitious in the
shaping of coherent systems. All these different schemes indicate ways of
problematizing children’s well-being and the need to shape the behavior of parents
or simply support children.
General welfare schemes balanced against more selective measures, and the
role of national governments sought its place in relationship to the role of local
governments (regional authorities) in the support of children’s well-being.
Depending on the national context, the role of the family and professionals varied
in importance and in its designated political role. State actions in loco parentis to
protect children were arbitrated in relation to the role of institutional and profes-
sional influence and in relation to the integrity of the family. Such interventions
to protect the well-being of children were shaped differently depending on legal
traditions and the relationship between the family and the state. It was also
different when applied in different sectors, whether it was distribution of
milk to babies, examinations of newborn babies, or juvenile crimes and breaking
norms. A thin and negotiable line was drawn between disciplining, punishments,
and support in regard to mothers, children, and the young. These changes
were also shaped by different national trajectories before and after World War
II. In countries hard hit by depression, the policies for children and the under-
standing of childhood looked different than in nations that worried about
a declining population or the disastrous effects of World War II on families
and children.
It is in such a light that the history of children’s well-being during the second
half of the twentieth century can be understood and can explain the variations in
the guises that provisions for children have taken. It also explains some of the
conflicts concerning the well-being of children. The emergence of child welfare
committees, child health care, educational policy, and legislation on adoption,
fostering, delinquency, and the family can all be understood as examples of the
way that children were viewed as politically important objects of welfare by
governments or other agencies. Exactly what that interest has entailed has varied
enormously, and has obviously been interpreted in different ways by the various
agents involved and in different countries. Some may have subordinated it to
other political priorities, such as the need to solve poor relief problems, popula-
tion growth, housing shortages, or, for that matter, in some countries, a priority to
create democratic citizens.
Children’s rights have primarily been an issue of social rights rather than civic
rights. Throughout the twentieth century, the child’s best interests in cases of
adoption have, for example, been clearly overwhelmed by the sheer number of
children in need of adoption and definitions of the nature of a family as a legal,

psychological, social, or biological unit. Clearly the best interests of the child were
evoked in situations when children were subject to problematic social situations,
and when the “normal” living conditions afforded by the protection of a biological
family were wanting. By the late twentieh century, children’s rights became central
in addressing children’s issues and shaped the context for defining well-being. The
rights of adults to parenthood or children’s rights to parents and the ranking of the
rights of the family over the rights of the child are examples of issues that needed to
be arbitrated in a context where well-being was an issue.
The emphasis on children’s autonomy, competence, and independent agency
also opened the doors for civil society and professional organizations to offer
children support, protection, or legal advice in lieu of the guarantees previously
afforded by the state. The phrase “the child’s best interests” became connected
to children as competent individuals. The emphasis shifted to the judicial sys-
tem’s responsibility to define children’s rights in relationship to the UNCRC. The
child’s best interests became a unifying concept that is enlisted by partially rival
agents – government authorities, voluntary organizations, lawyers, professional
organizations and scholars – who view themselves as mediators of children’s
rights and thus children’s best interests. They are prepared to listen to the voices
of children, while at the same time representing and voicing their professional
interests.
A long-term shift involves a movement away from the idea of children that
emphasizes their vulnerability and fragility toward a view of children that empha-
sizes the similarity of children’s needs as individuals to those of adults. Simulta-
neously, children’s voices also become important as sources of information about
the well-being of children, and children are described as competent informers. The
notion of children as having separate rights is consequently eroded; the social and
citizens’ rights attributed to children in the UNCRC are largely identical to those of
adults. This creates an issue in today’s society concerning how children’s rights
should be negotiated between, on the one hand, care and dependence and, on the
other, adult-like independence and rights as individuals but with very different
outcomes in different countries.
The trends also reflect a renewed interest in the study of children that accounts
for children as social agents. The significance of this newborn and redirected
interest in child studies is not only that it parallels the child studies movement
around the turn of the century, but that it also participates in shaping institutions and
policy for children. It is the very intellectual underpinning of an understanding of
children as agents and of a governance of society that includes listening to
children’s needs and definitions of well-being. The best interests of children are
not only a directive in an international convention but also an instrument of
governance in modern welfare societies. In essential respects, conditions have
thus changed for interaction between the state, professionals, nonprofessionals,
and children. But the debate concerning children’s well-being has been fundamen-
tally altered from an issue of national concern, albeit based on international
cooperation, to a basically international issue.
70 B. Sandin
During both the late twentieth and early nineteenth centuries the politics of
children became an increasingly important part of politics in general, not least as
reflected by the work of implementing the UN Convention on the Rights of the
Child, but also because of the creation of welfare institutions for children, changing
gender relations, and an aging population in the industrialized Western world. The
UN General Assembly accepted the convention in 1989 and all countries (except
the United States and Somalia) ratified it. Even if different countries have varied
interpretations of its meaning, the support surrounding UN’s children’s convention
is unique in the context of international law.
The signing was the culmination of a heritage dating back to the First World War
and the confirmation of the Geneva Convention of 1924, which formulated rules for
protecting children. It thus represents a set of principles that have developed on an
international level but illustrates a shift in the meaning of childhood and the under-
standing of well-being At the same time, these principles are clearly founded in
national agencies and NGOs focusing on child protection, child guidance, education,
psychology, and social work. They reflect efforts on the national level and, more
importantly, extensive international cooperation between professionals and scholars,
thus building a cultural identity around the protection of children. One can also argue
that it is a long-term consequence of international cooperation on different aspects of
children’s well-being that has shaped the institutions for children from the eighteenth
century onward. Children’s rights and understandings of well-being are clearly export
products that reflect international power relations and dominance and consequently
also ambitions to resist such hegemonic processes.
Changing notions of well-being are simultaneously dependent on international
and global changes, systems of evaluation, notions of rights, scholarship, national
cultures, and the individual voices of children. In addition, it indicates recognizing
and meeting children’s developmental and emotional needs. In the late twentieth
century, the promotion of children’s rights indicated a shift from an emphasis on
social rights and access to welfare provisions to individual participatory rights. One
symbol of these changes was the emergence of the concept of the “best interests of
the child,” which also influenced legal doctrines. It is in this context that we can also
see the emergence of a discussion about the well-being of children also an issue of
comparison between nations. As the best interest of the child was closely associated
with the UN convention recognition of children, it also spurred an interest in
comparative aspects of children’s lives. Comparisons demanded clear criteria for
the measure of well-being to motivate and legitimatize social support. Sensitivity
about the consequences for the life of children with new family patterns, extensive
schooling, unemployment, and migration also created an awareness of how such
changes influenced children’s quality of life. At the same time, children are
understood as increasingly important investments in the welfare state. As govern-
ments are reluctant to uphold traditional welfare systems, this development has
stimulated interest in the education of parents, equipping them both to fend for the
well-being of children and to take part in the task of redeeming past inadequacies in
the care of children in institutions.
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Culture, Context, and Child Well-Being
3
Thomas S. Weisner
3.1 Introduction
There are different conceptions of what it means to be happy and what the goals of
life are in different communities around the world. Diversity within societies
regarding the circumstances that can make for well-being and what we want from
life is also apparent, and diversity often includes cultural and ethnic variations.
Including “culture” is a way to insure that research does not assume what the goals
are, and what makes others happy, since “. . .there is no unambiguously single
pursuit of happiness–rather there are multiple ‘pursuits of happiness’” (Mathews
and Izquerdo 2009: 1).
Another reason to include culture is that well-being includes subjective and
experiential aspects, as well as objective material and health and other assessments.
Culture includes models for everyday living, beliefs, goals, and values held in the
mind – in other words, subjective experiences that shape the interpretation of what
happens and do not only respond to but organize behavior and the choice of
contexts. What is life’s meaning, what is the moral direction of good child
development, and what would be good parenting to strive toward to reach that
valued way of life? Cultural communities vary in their answers to these questions,
and more open-ended, conversational interviews and naturalistic observations and
fieldwork in communities are essential ways to learn about these differences
(LeVine et al. 1988).
Hence, cultural evidence is important for understanding well-being. Studying
well-being in a wide range of communities with differing beliefs and practices
requires qualitative understanding as well as closed-ended survey or questionnaire
methods (Weisner 2013). What is going on here? Why are you investing so much
T.S. Weisner
Departments of Psychiatry (Semel Institute, Center for Culture & Health) & Anthropology,
UCLA, Los Angeles, CA, USA

88 T.S. Weisner
into religious devotion, ritual bathing, or earning money? Why are the rhythms of
your days and weeks and the activities you do organized this way? Qualitative
methods to explore and discover the life patterns, the life-worlds, of communities
are important for the study of well-being.
3.2 Studying Well-Being in a Diverse Family World
In the current interconnected, relatively easy-to-access media and our rapidly

changing demographic circumstances, it is increasingly difficult to find
a culturally homogeneous sample that would be uninfluenced by multiple models
and other groups’ conceptions of what is good and what matters for well-being. Yet
for this very reason, the globalizing world around us today demands a diverse,
pluralistic approach to well-being, not an increasingly uniformitarian one.
Of course, there are many demographic variables and social categories that also
influence well-being, in addition to cultural communities, including religious affil-
iation, ethnicity, race, class, age, gender, and other categories. Cultural evidence
adds to such social address categories by asking what unifies these diverse demo-
graphic and social categories and institutional influences on well-being and human
development. This idea that there are emergent, reasonably coherent cultural
models that influence well-being, in addition to social and demographic categorical
variables, is a proposal, not a given – it is a suggestion that needs evidence. As
many chapters in this Handbook show, there is ample proof of the value of
a cultural-contextual perspective. At the same time, these no longer are easy to
identify, stable cultural groups with isolated, clearly shared models and patterns of
belief and practice. These are empirical questions to ask of study populations: to
what extent are beliefs shared and what practices and ideals define group identity
(Weisner and Lowe 2005)?
However, there is considerable evidence that culture continues to matter to well-
being and to human development. Broad differences in family and parenting
patterns continue to be found around the world, for instance. With regard to family
and household diversity, for example, Therborn (2004, 2009) characterizes seven
broad cross-cultural family patterns: Christian European; Islamic West Asian/North
African; South Asian Hindu; Confucian East Asian; sub-Saharan African; South-
east Asian; and Creole (U.S. South, Caribbean, Brazil, parts of South America).
Each of these seven broad family systems differs along social dimensions that have
profound influences on family life. They differ in the norms concerning inheritance
(e.g., whether all children inherit equally, or only males, or only firstborn males) or
descent rules (e.g., bilateral as in the United States or patrilineal); marriage customs
that are preferred or permitted in different communities (e.g., whether there is an
ideal norm of lifetime monogamy; whether divorce and serial monogamy are
allowed or plural marriage is permitted); beliefs about sexuality, gender, and
patterns of household formation (e.g., whether couples form independent house-
holds, live with parents, or form joint or extended households; whether children
3 Culture, Context, and Child Well-Being 89
typically remain in one household or move between multiple households during

childhood; how marriages are negotiated; roles of fathers; socially distributed care
of children and elderly) also vary across these world family systems. Religious
practices of course also influence these and other aspects of family life as does class
and other cross-cutting circumstances. Qualitative fieldwork describes the variabil-
ity, adherence, reach, emotional significance, enforcement, and extent of influence
of these diverse family norms. As Therborn (2004, 2009) summarizes the impact of
these broad differences: “The boys and girls of the world enter many different
childhoods and depart them through many different doors” (p. 338). Kagitcibasi
(2013, ▶ Chap. 42, “Family and Child Well-Being” in this Handbook) further
explores the family as a developmental context, emphasizing the integration of
social and cognitive intelligence, multiple forms of self-construal to be found
around the world, and the dimensions of autonomy and relational self-development.
Well-being is an intentionally holistic, inclusive, contextual, hard-to-precisely-
define construct. Hence, there are significant difficulties in cultural interpretations
and measurement of well-being. Yet constructs much more specific than well-being
also are difficult to transport cross-culturally, and require local modifications. There
also are competing constructs with more established measures (stress, happiness,
goal orientations, preference hierarchies) that are more specific and sometimes
substitute for and overlap with well-being, but may not capture cultural differences
in well-being. Going to other cultural communities around the world opens the door
to new, surprising cultural concepts and activities for well-being – but it does not
mean that we do not also find universal aspects of well-being when we go to other
communities. Vast differences in purchasing power, living conditions, chaotic
contexts and family settings, war and violence, state-level oppression, and other
circumstances can deeply affect well-being, net of cultural influence.
3.3 Conceptual Frameworks for Well-Being and Culture
The conceptual framework of this Handbook is remarkably broad and inclusive, and
clearly considers well-being in a global, international context. Cultural perspectives
are very much a part of child well-being looking across the Handbook and from the
points of view of the editors. The conceptual framework includes the understanding
that well-being is within “. . .a multi-cultural and multi-disciplinary framework”. It
includes “. . .the social opportunities to realize goals.” Well-being includes subjective
experiences and meaning as well as objective indicators of material conditions,
health, and behavior. Well-being of course also involves parents’ children’s, and
community members’ “. . .own points of view, opinions, perspectives and percep-
tions, evaluations and aspirations.” The final sign of the important role of culture is
the statement proposing that “Child well-being and well-becoming are tied to social
and cultural contexts necessary for the realization of development consistent with
cultural values and goals.” This points to the important role of well-being as including
the moral direction of life and of child development. This includes the present
condition of a child and family (well-being) and the future that is being pointed
90 T.S. Weisner
toward (well-becoming). So there is no need for this chapter to knock on the door of
the methods, theory, and samples elsewhere in the Handbook, and remind us that
cultural pluralism matters and that qualitative and quantitative methods are impor-
tant. Instead, the focus can be on some examples of well-being and some frameworks
for using a cultural approach in the study of well-being.
Colby (2009) considers contemporary cultural study of well-being as under-
standing the self-world of individuals in context, a framework that encourages
combining the personal/experiential with the cultural context. He assesses three
domains that link a person’s reports of happiness and well-being to the context: the
natural and cultural ecology perceived by a person – the material and biophysical
situation; the social relational and interpersonal realm; and the symbolic realm of
language categories, religious, and other beliefs.
Super and Harkness (1999) have developed an influential construct of the
cultural niche of development, which also includes three domains: the resource
and material setting; the beliefs shared within a cultural community; and the
practices or behaviors that parents, children, and others engage in on a regular
basis. Many cultural definitions in the field of child development include versions
of these three: resource setting and ecology; beliefs, goals, and values; and
behaviors/practices. Hollan (2009) also provides examples of ways to link per-
son-centered to contextual or culturally centered accounts through methods of
person-centered interviewing.
LeVine (2003) conceptualizes enculturation as the acquisition of “local idioms”
for action, based on goals and practices within diverse local populations. These
local idioms (meanings, beliefs, scripts for action, shared practices, ways of orga-
nizing everyday routines of life) shape how families sustain family life and how
they conceive of and socialize for well-being.
3.4 A Definition of Well-Being as Sustained Engagement in

Culturally Desired Activities
These and many other cultural concepts point toward a useful way to think about
well-being and to use cultural evidence in research on it. The focus is on how
culture, along with other environmental circumstances, shapes the activities of
everyday life. Well-being is the engaged participation in the activities that are
deemed desirable and valued in a cultural community and the psychological
experiences that are produced by such engagement. This definition includes the
resources and support needed for activities as well as the experience and meaning of
participation in activities, the contexts and activities that matter in a community,
and the active engagement of a person, including their feelings about those
activities.
Note that this view of well-being foregrounds social activities that produce and
drive psychological experience, not the other way around, which is not the more
common approach to the direction of effects. Actually, of course, the relationship is
bidirectional, and the evidence clearly shows this throughout child development.
Every individual has a unique history and psychological predispositions and tem-
perament, all of which influence the activities the person engages with in the first
place (which niches or activities they pick and prefer) and the degree of happiness
they have both as a baseline and in varied settings.
This conception of well-being as engaged participation in desired activities that
matter is a functional approach to well-being, which also includes the experiences
and affective state that would go along with the competence and sense of effectence
that such participation entails. Unlike the association of well-being with happiness,
however, well-being includes affective states such as engagement, attention, satis-
faction, struggle to accomplish goals, and sometimes distress, frustration, and
disappointment. Effective, engaged participation in activities we desire does not
always lead to immediate happiness, but if sustained over time, can lead to well-
being.
Given the importance of cultural practices and beliefs for well-being, the quality
of daily activities and family routines, on the one hand, and well-being, on the
other, are closely connected. The connection likely has to do with the ability to
sustain a meaningful routine in some cultural community. Every family and
community is involved in the project of sustaining their household and family
and community – that is, keeping it going, hopefully in the ways and along the
path desired, using morally significant cultural idioms and shared values. What
could we expect to find in any culture that might link daily routines and activities to
well-being in positive ways (Weisner 2008)?
3.5 A Cross-Cultural Contextual Universal About What

Produces Well-Being: Sustaining a Meaningful
Daily Routine
Sustaining a daily routine involves four processes (Weisner 2002; Weisner et al.
2005): fitting the routine to family resources, balancing varied family interests and
conflicts, experiencing some sense of meaningfulness of family activities with
respect to goals and values, and providing stability and predictability of the daily
routine. Routines that have better resource fit, less conflict, more balance, more
meaningfulness, and enough predictability are posited to be better for families, and
so to provide greater well-being for those participating in them. Sustainability in
the life of a family and children is better for a child’s development and for
parenting. To the extent that these features of a sustainable routine can be assessed
and understood in a community, these data would be evidence for a reliable and
valid contextual universal for comparing families and communities across cultures.
Well-being, like sustainability, is an ongoing project, not a one-time end point. It
is contextual, embedded in an everyday routine of life, and so part of some local
social context with its local idioms. It includes both the local resources and ecology
of the family and community, and the goals, values, and meanings that the com-
munity affords and people bring to their practices. For this reason, understanding
well-being requires contextual and ethnographic data and methods, just as
92 T.S. Weisner
sustainability does. Such methods are complementary and add value to quantitative
assessment methods and the growing use of mixed methods in family and child
developmental research (Barata and Yoshikawa 2013, ▶ Chap. 101, “Mixed
Methods in Research on Child Well-Being” in this Handbook).
With these notions of well-being and cultural pathways in child development in
mind, this chapter reviews ways to measure cultural context and provides some
diverse examples of how variations in children’s socialization can lead to differ-
ences in the qualities that matter for well-being.
3.6 The Units of Analysis for Studying Well-Being, Culture,

and Children’s Developmental Pathways
A cultural perspective on well-being does not require a single definition of what

“culture is” to guide good research. It does not require a single measure. This is
fortunate, since it is fair to say that there is no agreed-upon definition of culture, just
as there is no agreed-upon method for measuring cultural factors. Rather than
a single definition, it could be more useful to establish a set of key concepts and
indicators that would be important to include in any cultural study. There are
perhaps three key processes to focus cultural measurement on, and they would be
valuable for well-being research and children and families. Three such keys are:
1. Widely shared and accepted scripts and norms for behavior and thought in the
context of important settings and activities
2. Cultural models of the person; what is good; what are the shared (or at least
widely recognized) beliefs about the nature of the sources, causes and conse-
quences of well-being, wellness, and well-becoming; the valued moral direc-
tions for one’s life
3. Experiences and their meanings common in a community regarding well-being
and the circumstances (health, resources, threats and dangers, uncertainties, etc.)
that contribute to well-being
A study that included these key constructs, with the measures and qualitative
descriptions for them clearly presented, would provide a useful, scientifically sound
cultural account. Those methods would probably include both qualitative and
quantitative methods. Using the Ecocultural Family Interview approach to
assessing the family daily routine, reliable coding of sustainability and the other
dimensions that go along with it are possible and have been done in a number of
studies (Weisner et al. 2005).
These domains also are included in most theoretical frameworks for the study of
development. For example, the most widely cited conceptual framework for child
development in an ecological context is Urie Bronfenbrenner’s (1979) work.
Bronfenbrenner (2005) subsequently extended this model in his “person, process,
context, and time,” four-part approach. In this latter approach, the child is an
individual person, engaged in complex developmental processes, growing within
particular family and sociocultural and historical contexts, which are changing
across both developmental time and historical time.
In keeping with the broad scope of the Handbook, I would suggest that an
approach to understanding culture and well-being could usefully center around
a cultural learning environment (CLE) conceptual framework. John and Beatrice
Whiting, Carolyn Edwards, and others provided the psychocultural model for
development in cultural context, which includes the subsistence base and wider
environment, the community and family context, the settings and activities that
children and others are in, and the social behaviors and beliefs that are associated
with differential experiences in those varied settings (Whiting and Edwards 1988).
CLE studies are oriented toward culture and human development topics, but are not
limited to those topics. A recent paper by Carol Worthman (2010) reviews several
of these models: the developmental niche, from Super and Harkness (1999);
ecocultural theory from Weisner (2002); and bioecocultural approaches from
Worthman (Worthman et al. 2010). ▶ Chapter 20, “Child Well-Being: Anthropo-
logical Perspectives” in this Handbook (Stevenson and Worthman 2013) also
further describes this approach. That chapter usefully distinguishes between heu-
ristic models (the CLE being one instance) and predictive models, which offer the
potential to predict or account for regularities that can account for variations in
child well-being across cultures and through time. The many transitions in the
ecological and health contexts around children and families that affect well-being
(such as the demographic transition, mass schooling market and state economies,
and the postcolonial world and others) also are captured by such models.
The CLE approach outlines what culture is and how it directs our behavior and
thought with particular reference to child development. It includes the following
components:
– Culture is found in the everyday settings (activities, contexts, events, practices)
we live within and engage with: bedtime, getting ready for school; visiting your
cousins; helping plan, prepare, and cook dinner; going to Sunday school; doing
homework; getting a checkup; hanging out with friends, etc. Activities are an
important unit of analysis for seeing and measuring culture because this is where
it is experienced and lived; context is bracketed into studies of well-being by
using activities as a unit for analysis, not bracketed out.
– Settings and activities have common attributes that organize our behavior and
thought in them. Those characteristics include: resources and material objects
available; values and goals that provide the purposes and endpoints for actions;
scripts and norms (“customs” or “beliefs” or an “ethnopsychology”) that
provide guides for the ways to act in that setting; emotions, motives, and feelings
brought to the setting and created by it; people and the social relationships
among those people; the stability, predictability, and familiarity of that setting.
While we would not know everything – we would know a great deal about the
cultural world of a person or community if we understood and measured the key
activities and settings, and these six characteristics of those settings. These
features organize and direct our behavior and thought in cultural contexts.
– The activities and settings of a community are organized into a daily routine of
life and are linked together into community ways of life. Culture creates
pathways through development using these linked activities and routines.
94 T.S. Weisner
Activities and settings are the stepping stones making up those cultural path-
ways. Differences in cultural pathways influence health behaviors, well-being,
and outcomes for children.
– Activities and settings are influenced by the wider cultural ecology (demogra-
phy, ecology, subsistence system, institutions, public health context, inequal-
ities, community safety and threats, heterogeneity of ways of life, and others).
It is an empirical question, which if possible should be assessed, as to the
extent culture is shared among a community. A cultural analysis does not expect
complete homogeneity, but rather predicts some diversity, and expects both
internal and social conflicts and ambivalence (Weisner 2009). Cultural analysis
is not about only finding homogeneity. Evidence of some heterogeneity is not an
indication of the absence of shared culture if there are patterns and common
shared beliefs and activities as well. Although for many studies, we will need to
use social address categories to gloss a cultural group or nation (India; China;
Hispanics; African-Americans), unpacking those categories is preferable where
possible.
Our deep proclivity to learn from our environment throughout life in a shared
group context is an evolved capacity. Hence, well-being is always a mutually
constituted process involving neurophysiological processes learned in a cultural
and family context. We are prepared to be “cultural acquisition devices” (CAD)
from before birth (Konner 2010). These endogenous factors influence how we
acquire, store, and transmit cultural knowledge. Although there is a core psychic
unity across all mankind (the CAD being such a capacity), this does not mean that
there are no individual differences in CAD competence and tendencies. This
variability also produces expectable variability in the extent of shared cultural
beliefs in a community, as well as in how individuals within any community
respond and adapt to “the same” culture (Worthman et al. 2010).
Cultural transmission is bidirectional and selective (Sch€onpflug 2009). A great
deal (arguably most) of such cultural learning occurs without verbal instruction but
rather though mimicry, imitation, play, rehearsal and practice, apprenticeship, and
observational learning. Hence, the perception, acquisition, storage in memory,
recall, patterning in the mind, and ways of expressing and teaching culture
throughout childhood and throughout life are essential aspects of how we define,
measure, and describe the impacts of culture for health and well-being outcomes.
Until the recent introduction of formal schooling throughout the world, all child
learning occurred in everyday activity settings, mixed-age play groups, and adult-
managed work and family settings.
The ways cultural knowledge is transmitted are key components for understand-
ing cultural influences on health, because learning and transmission of cultural
knowledge always can transform that knowledge. There is intentional design and
change built into cultural practices. Well-being can always be changed and
improved in cultural context. Components of activities and behavior settings in
cultural learning environments are not static; but this static view often leads to
culture being viewed as a barrier to positive changes in health beliefs and behaviors.
To the contrary, cultural studies can discover levers for effective interventions and
change to improve well-being. Translational research on health and well-being can

utilize cultural practices for positive outcomes, not only get around them as barriers
to well-being. Put more strongly: Unless good ideas for health and well-being are
finding a place in daily routines and activity settings (in organizations, groups,
families, individuals) such that new beliefs and behaviors take hold, good ideas and
interventions will not diffuse, or be able to scale up. ▶ Chapter 18, “Child Well-
Being: Anthropological Perspectives”, by Stevenson and Worthman (2013) in this
Handbook offers a number of positive suggestions for implementing child policy
around the world to improve child well-being.
3.7 Some Examples from Cultural Studies of Well-Being
Cultural beliefs and emotional regulation norms influence how members of differ-
ent cultural communities describe how happy they are, how satisfied they are with
life, and how well they are doing. Mathews and Izquerdo (2009) describe an
example of this, contrasting Japanese and North American ideals of how to present
oneself to others. A frequent finding in survey research on subjective well-being
and happiness is that East Asians say they are less happy than North Americans.
How might we interpret this result? Cultural beliefs about the goals of life
(one should “pursue” happiness) and of the social regulation of pride and boasting
(one should not boast much) can influence responses to questionnaires, surveys, and
interviews, as well as public displays of well-being.
. . .in a society declaring in its founding document the inalienable right to “the pursuit of
happiness,” one is culturally enjoined to pursue and proclaim one’s happiness. . . In East
Asian societies such as Japan, on the other hand, personal modesty is an ingrained social
value–one is enjoined not to boast about one’s success in life or declare too loudly one’s
personal happiness or well-being (Mathews and Izquerdo 2009: 7).
Assessing well-being using questionnaire, survey, observation, or qualitative

interviews would benefit from a cultural understanding of display rules for pride or
happiness in various cultural contexts and the patterns of emotional regulation (both
internal states and feelings, and outward expression) learned in childhood and
reinforced in that community for adults. Absent this cultural understanding, the
collection and interpretation of data about happiness and emotional states is likely
to be incomplete.
The term ikigai in Japanese explicitly, lexically points to the basic question of
what a good life is, what is the right moral direction, the right activities, and life
practices, that give your life meaning. Hence, ikigai is “that which makes one’s life
worth living.” One asks in conversation in Japan, “what is your ikigai? Now it is
likely that communities everywhere recognize the intent of that question, and offer
answers: my family; my work; making money; my church and service to God. But
according to Mathews (1996), only the Japanese lexicon actually has a term for this.
A fuller definition of ikigai for Japanese includes: “one’s deepest bond to one’s social
world” and “one’s deepest sense of social commitment” (Mathews 1996: 173).
96 T.S. Weisner
The example of Japan emphasizes the importance of cultural differences in how

children are socialized with regard to social cues, social context, and
interdependence, rather than the ego-entered attentional focus, independence and
autonomy, and personal cues for recognition much more common in the Euro-
American world. Well-being, at least the social engagement and functional aspects,
is more socially centered in many communities. Ochs and Izquerdo (2009), for
example, offer this contrast in learning and socialization, comparing the US middle
class in Los Angeles, the Matsigenka of Peru, and Upolu, Samoa. Note that the unit
of analysis is the everyday routines of family life, particularly tasks and chores and
responsibilities for children and what they mean. The outcomes are the goals for
well-being, including social intelligence and appropriate behavior. There are clear
developmental strengths for the Matsigenka and Samoan children and youth that
are linked to desired goals for a good person that are in turn linked to family
practices in those cultural groups. The emphasis is on tasks, chores, social cooper-
ation, and other competencies. The child is oriented to learn from others in the
social world in Samoa and among the Matsigenka, emphasizing learning through
social intelligence and through the observation of others in their daily activities,
rather than through dyadic instruction directed only at the child by a parent.
We propose that social awareness, social responsiveness, and self-reliance are keystone
properties of moral personhood and use these properties to articulate ways in which actions
and stances of others influence children’s accountability in everyday family life. Building
on cross-cultural studies of children’s domestic activities, this study advances the literature
by arguing that much more than practical competence and social responsibility are afforded
by children’s assistance in tasks. We hypothesize that practical household work is
a crucible for promoting moral responsibility in the form of a generative cross-
situational awareness of and responsiveness to others’ needs and desires. (Ochs and
Izquerdo 2009: 391)
The importance of the development of social responsibility in childhood for

well-being is that it occurs in the middle of everyday family expectations for tasks
and chores, and that it is clearly associated with moral directions that are frequently
included in conceptions of family and child well-being: “. . .social awareness, social
responsiveness, and self-reliance integral to hearth and home and the fabric of
family life.” (Ochs and Izquerdo 2009: 408). Well-being is not marked by awards
for the child, or boasting about doing a good job at something, but rather by displays
of culturally meaningful tasks, work, and activities. What might be glossed only as
child work in an observational measure is an indicator of well-being for much of the
world. Now, the child and others might not be feeling “happy” or “joyous” while
doing the work, yet he or she might feel satisfaction and well-being at the social
inclusion and participation that is part of such work. What those experiences are is
an empirical question to be assessed.
There are other efforts in cross-cultural studies to explicitly ask about well-
being – the local worlds, the actions, the beliefs, and kind of moral life direction that
characterizes it.
Izquerdo (2009) further describes this for the Matsigenka, an isolated fishing,
hunting, foraging, and horticultural Amerindian group. The Matsigenka are
a family-level society, though they more recently live in small group settlements.
Well-being is shinetagantsi, which embodies “ideals and beliefs of what the
Matsigenka consider the basic premise of a good life.” (p. 251). This involves little
self-conscious reflection – questions about personal happiness elicited only blank
stares – but rather the ideals of providing for one’s family, improving upon one’s
productive skills, and keeping harmonious social relations throughout a long and
peaceful life.
The physical health of Matsigenka has been improving over the past 20 years or
so – yet the community’s own appraisal of well-being is that they personally, and
their community, are declining. They fear the future due to the rapid change and
encroachment of globalization, oil exploration, and other economic and social
changes. Knowing both the cultural beliefs about change in health and well-being,
as well as the measured physical health, are both important for assessing well-being.
The Canadian Cree (Adelson 2009) and the Australian Aborigines of Murrin
Bridge (Heil 2009) also face these kinds of threats posed by the wider state and
urban life. In all these cases, well-being includes stable and positive relationships
with one’s local social community – a common theme in many cultural accounts of
well-being around the world, in smaller and larger societies alike.
Derne (2009) also describes the importance of a sociocentric cultural orientation to
one’s natal family and community among young men in urban India. Raval and Martini
(2011) similarly find that there are emotional regulation practices in urban Indian
families in Gujarat not commonly included in current ways of measuring problem-
focused parent behaviors in the USA. These involve giving the child an explanation of
the situation, frequently phrased as “making the child understand.” Such an approach is
in keeping with overarching relational socialization goals, which teach children to
adjust their own goals and needs to fit their social environment and to accept the
situation, thus facilitating their development as socially interdependent individuals.
“. . .elders of the family assumed the role of making the younger members understand.
Similarly, the socialization of children’s emotions in Gujarati families may be conceived in
this broader context of ‘making the other understand’. Specifically, our qualitative data
suggested that mothers wanted their children to understand that they should accept and
adjust to the situation, because internalization of this important cultural value is a critical
step toward the larger goal of becoming a socially interrelated person (Raval and Martini
2011: 854).
Such locally meaningful ways of parenting are best understood through conver-
sations and qualitative observations in natural settings that then lead to an under-
standing of the morally appropriate pathway for learning and emotion regulation that
matter to families. Expecting, adjusting, and understanding the social situation by the
child is important because that is what a child in an interdependent, socially mediated,
and constrained world needs to do to become a growing cultural person. It is likely
that more of this kind of parental training is going on in some US and European
groups than is currently appreciated. Questionnaire scales of parenting or goals are
unlikely to fully capture this. Well-being is intertwined with these practices.
“Training” is a more appropriate conceptual frame for another focus found in
other cultural groups: well-being as exemplified by persistence in doing and
98 T.S. Weisner
completing a task and by both family and personal respect shown through effortful
accomplishment (Chao 1994; Li 2012). This pattern is not limited only to Asian
families of course, as already noted for the Matsigenka and the Samoans, but it is
marked as a cultural pattern much more clearly in a number of those cultures. Praise
in the North Indian context is seen as leading to over-boasting and egocentrism and
also means that the child is not focusing on how their own actions might be
affecting others or how others might perceive pride (pride being a dangerous
display in India, Africa, and elsewhere). Hence, lots of praise (“good job!” many
middle class Americans might say) is uncommon-not because parents are not
“proud” of their child and do not want them to do well and feel good about this,
but because other emotions and social behaviors are as or more important, or the
ways of accomplishing these goals are culturally different.
3.8 Distinguishing Cultural Diversity in Pathways to

Well-Being From True Threats to Well-Being
A benefit of a comparative, cultural consideration of well-being is that it can alert us

to the risk of confusing circumstances in other cultural communities that might
seem harmful to children and to well-being from the Euro-American cultural
perspective, yet which are neither viewed that way elsewhere, nor produce delete-
rious consequences for children and their families. There is always a risk of falsely
claiming that circumstances in other cultural communities that might seem harmful
to children and to well-being from the Euro-American cultural perspective are in
fact deleterious. Many contexts that might seem to be troubling do not produce
deleterious consequences for children and their families (Weisner 2009).
There is very strong evidence from the ethnographic record and from contem-
porary studies of children and families that there is a wide range of ways to raise
children (LeVine 2007) and that most parenting is “good enough” and is in the
service of cultural goals and beliefs that we need to assess in context, rather than
imposing a Western framework on them. Many of these ways of parenting and
family circumstances may appear chaotic and unacceptable by Eurocentric stan-
dards, yet they are nonetheless morally and developmentally appropriate in other
places. Perhaps they are not optimal in various ways, yet nonetheless they are good
enough, and they produce children and adults who are socially competent and
contribute to their communities no more or less so than in the USA. The cultural
goals and moral directions for development are met, at least in part, and there is no
great gap in well-being outcomes.
For example, socially distributed, multiple caretaking of children is widespread
around the world (Evans 2013, ▶ Chap. 65, “Children as Caregivers” in this
Handbook; Meehan 2013, ▶ Chap. 61, “Allomothers and Child Well-Being” in
this Handbook). Most children are frequent caregivers for their siblings and for their
cousins. Nannies, grandparents, and aunts commonly complement or sometimes
replace mothers and fathers. Does this lead to relational insecurity, emotional loss,
confusion, and anxiety? Or can such caregiving patterns provide a strong sense of
empathy, nurturance, social responsibility, social intelligence, and social compe-

tence in children who are caregivers? There is evidence that such care, when not
associated with family breakdowns or other chaotic circumstances – when this
pattern of caregiving is an expectable, normative, taken-for-granted cultural path-
way for children – can promote well-being, and at the least should not be confused
with suboptimal care (Weisner 1996; Seymour 1999; Gottlieb 2004; Keller 2007).
Attachment security can be achieved through pluralistic models of care and close
relationships as well. There is not a single mother-child dyadic style, but rather
varied ways to socialize for sufficient security and trust (Harwood et al. 1995;
LeVine and Norman 2001).
As mentioned earlier, parenting practices that emphasize structure, respect,
control, and training are not necessarily deleterious or unduly harsh, but rather
they can provide effective care and positive experiences for children (Lareau 2003;
Darling and Steinberg 1993). Co-sleeping or growing up in “crowded” spaces by
some Western standards may not lead to dependency or stress and can be associated
with interdependence, and symbiotic relationships as a goal for well-being
(McKenna 1993; McKenna and McDade 2005; Shweder et al. 1995). Adults do
not play with children in most of the world today and did not in the past, though
children engage in play everywhere. It is not a sign of insensitive or nonoptimal
parenting to observe this (Lancy 1996, 2007). Even where there are difficult
conditions for children and families, we need better understanding of the cultural
differences that could moderate or mediate environmental stress and chaos and
move such situations in a more positive direction (Wachs and Corapci 2003).
This is not to suggest that there are not circumstances that are not going to be
good for children most anywhere. These certainly include facing war, becoming
refugees, being in mortal danger, and experiencing severe deprivation. Chronically
inadequate nutrition, little or no physical protection from threat or violence inside
or outside the home, or unresponsive or not even minimal social stimulation are
nowhere promoting well-being and basic health for children or adults. Situations
involving chronic violence, anger and conflict, persistent threats and danger, or
relative status inequality absent supports are not good for children anywhere.
Exposure to toxic substances, dangerous neighborhood, school or other settings,
chaotic and unpredictable caregivers and social contexts, forced migration and
unpredictable disruptions on a continuing basis are not associated with well-being.
Nonetheless, Ruiz-Casares, Guzder, Rousseau, and Kirmayer (2013,
▶ Chap. 82, “Cultural Roots of Well-Being and Resilience in Child Mental Health”
in this Handbook) in their chapter on the “Cultural Roots of Well-being and
Resilience in Child Mental Health” emphasize resilience, seen both as an individual
trait and as an adaptive cultural response by some communities and families, even
in the face of clearly negative circumstances. A cultural or contextual understand-
ing of well-being does not imply or require a relativist position with regard to the
expectations of negative consequences for well-being of many situations facing
children and families around the world. At the same time, it adds, I believe, a useful
complement to other work, which offers positive policy and practice guides for
interventions to benefit children around the world (Engle et al. 2007).
100 T.S. Weisner
3.9 Conclusion
The cultural learning environment provides what many believe is a useful concep-
tual framework for measuring cultural contexts and settings. CLEs include
resources and ecology, behaviors, and beliefs. The settings that make up the
everyday contexts that organize the lives of children and their caregivers and
peers include norms and scripts for how to behave in them, resources making
those activities possible, emotions and feelings occurring within them, people and
relationships, goals and values, and some estimate of the degree of stability or
predictability.
The notion of more sustainable daily routines and activities for children and their
families and communities points to a way to provide a comparative assessment of
well-being quality that is not relativistic but rather provides a “contextual universal.”
Local everyday activities for children and parents that provide a better fit to available
resources, less conflict, more balance, more meaningfulness with respect to goals, and
enough predictability are plausibly going to be associated with increased well-being
for children. Such an approach ideally will be complementary to the suite of other
ways to assess well-being that are now available in our field (Ben-Arieh and Goerge
2005; Bornstein et al. 2003).
Culture matters, but it does not trump other ways of predicting, comparing, and
describing well-being. It is usually used complementary to other ways of under-
standing well-being. Cultural comparative work on well-being can be used to
demonstrate universals, features that children benefit from everywhere, as well as
discovering the effects of the remarkable differences in the life circumstances of
children today. We need to be sure that we include the enormous diversity in
children’s worlds that exist today in our assessments. Culture is important for
well-being since it brings the meanings and experiences of parents, children, and
others into the description and analysis of well-being and ideally insures that their
voices are part of our understanding of well-being.
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Children, Gender, and Issues of Well-Being
4
Harriet Bjerrum Nielsen and Barrie Thorne
4.1 Introduction
“It’s a girl!” “It’s a boy!” Around the world, one of these two pronouncements often
marks the moment when a baby is born. In cultures where girl babies are less
valued, the enthusiasm of the calling out varies depending on whether it is a boy or
a girl, or whether a newborn is the second girl born to the parents.
Everywhere, however, a choice of either-or is made on the basis of the appearance
of the baby’s genitals which in 99 % of the cases are easy to classify. This chapter
considers ways in which a gender dichotomy indeed may be basic to everyday ways
of talking and to the structuring of social institutions and practices. But we will also
highlight the many ways in which the gender arrangements and meanings that inflect
the lives of children may challenge a dichotomous view. Gender tends to vary in
salience when it comes to individual experiences of embodiment and identity, and
the meanings of gender are complex and contextual, changing over time. Further-
more, gender has many facets. It is a dimension of bodies and physical reproduction,
individual identities and personal experience, and social relations and everyday
interaction. Gender is also central to divisions of labor and to the structuring of
institutions such as families, schools, markets, and states.
The experiential, embodied, symbolic, social relational, and structural dimen-
sions of gender are deeply entangled with other lines of difference and inequality,
such as age (a key concern of this chapter on children and gender), sexuality, social
class, nationality, and racialized ethnicity (for an overview of this approach to
H.B. Nielsen (*)

Centre for Gender Research, University of Oslo, Oslo, Norway
B. Thorne
Departments of Sociology and of Gender and Women’s Studies, University of California,
Berkeley, Berkeley, CA, USA

106 H.B. Nielsen and B. Thorne
theorizing gender, see Connell 2009). These entanglements, or articulations, help

shape the organization, salience, and meanings of gender, as we will show in
considering children’s positioning and experiences in different spheres of life –
family, work, schooling, relations with peers, and consumption.
After specifying varied dimensions of gender, we will sketch the changing
structure of age and gender relations in the history of children in the global North
(industrialized, affluent countries in Europe and North America, also including
Australia and New Zealand located in the global South). We will then discuss
gendered and age-related trends in the amount and type of unpaid work done by
contemporary schooled and domesticated children, with patterns centrally shaped
by social class. In the global South (Africa, Latin America, Asia), full-time and
continual school attendance is in many ways a class privilege; less affluent children
do a great deal of paid and unpaid labor, with gendered patterns inflected by
necessity, age, and cultural beliefs and practices.
The next major section of this chapter focuses on children’s gendered experiences
among peers and within schools – a flourishing area of research in Europe and in the
USA. We examine girls’ and boys’ experiences of doing, being, and becoming gender
in the contexts of schools and show how changing empirical approaches, theoretical
models, and media discourses have helped shape knowledge about children and
gender in different periods of time. We place special emphasis on the changes, and
also the continuities, in children’s gendered behavior over the last 30–40 years. Our
discussion of children’s gendered play and friendship relations is based primarily on
qualitative studies of children of different ages in a range of contexts.
In the last substantive section, we focus on the ways in which global capitalism,
especially the circulation of commercialized culture and products designed for
children, “tweens,” and teens, is altering the gendered contours of young people’s
experiences in the global North as well as countries in the global South. In the search
for markets, designers and corporations have amplified age and gender distinctions.
At the same time, global economic restructuring is widening gaps between the rich
and poor in global South as well as global North countries, in patterns articulated
with age and gender. In this chapter, we devote far more attention to children in
industrialized, or “global North,” countries than to those living in Africa, Central and
South America, the Middle East, and Asia – the “global South,” which, in terms of
sheer numbers, is the majority world. This skew is due to the limited reach of our
knowledge, although we have tried to open up ways of seeing and thinking about
gender that would be useful for more fully global exploration of themes related to
children and gender. The relation of gender to the patterning of children’s well-
being, a contrapuntal theme in this chapter, moves through each section and is pulled
together in the concluding summary.
4.2 What is Gender? Conceptual and Theoretical Issues
Gender is empirically present in bodily appearance and experiences, as well as in

the patterning of social structures, interactions, and identities. Gender is also
4 Children, Gender, and Issues of Well-Being 107
a forceful frame of interpretation in our minds. We not only assign gender to people
but also to nonhuman things such as colors, nations, ships, bombs, and tornados
(Scott 1988). The color pink now tends to be seen as feminine and the color blue as
masculine, but this was not always the case. The idea of signaling a child’s gender
by color arose in the Western world in the late nineteenth century along with the
idea that boyhood and girlhood ought to be more clearly distinguished from each
other. This was a product of an amplified dichotomous conception of gender that
attended processes of modernization. Before the nineteenth century, gender worked
primarily as an axis in divisions of labor along with the distribution of power,
authority, and privilege. With an enhanced division between public and private life
in the nineteenth century and with the rise of modern medical science, the differ-
ence between males and females came to be understood as fundamental, dictated
by their different biology and inborn psychological capacities (Laqueur 1990;
Fausto-Sterling 2000). This also influenced perceptions of children and ideas
about how they should be brought up, as we know, for instance, from Rousseau’s
(1762/1979) writings about Émile and Sophie. This dichotomous gender scheme
extended to assumed psychological differences between girls and boys, which
parents reinforced by dressing them in different colors. The colors initially chosen
to signal a child’s gender may, however, seem a bit surprising: in the nineteenth
century, experts argued that a pale blue color was perfect for signaling the delicacy
and flightiness of little girls, while a fierce red or pink color would suit the strong
and determined little boy. As some point in the first decades of the following
century, these colors underwent a sex change; pink then came to indicate feminine
daintiness and affection, while blue conveyed masculine strength and straightfor-
wardness (Paoletti 2012).
4.2.1 The Gender Scheme: Dichotomy and Hierarchy
What characterizes gender as a frame of interpretation – with many consequences for

the lives of children – is the tendency to split and dichotomize phenomena into two
distinct groups and the tendency to read this dichotomy as a hierarchy. Things defined
as feminine also tend to be seen as secondary or even inferior to things defined as
masculine. When pink and blue changed places, so did the evaluation of the colors and
their relative value: it is more valuable to be strong than weak, wiser to be strong-
minded than flighty, and more honorable to be straightforward than dainty. As Simone
de Beauvoir pointed out in her landmark book from 1949, women are seen as “the
second sex” (de Beauvoir 1949/2009). According to de Beauvoir, men are seen as
embodying the universal human, the unmarked category of mankind, whereas women
make up a special gendered subcategory whose gender explains their deviation from
the universal human. As we will later discuss, this way of thinking may continue even
in situations where women gain positions of power or where girls exceed boys in
educational achievements. Thus, there is no automatic connection between gender as
it is present empirically in the world and gender as a frame of interpretation. However,
interpretive models of gender interact with gender in the world: if pink is perceived as
a girlish color, many little girls will want to wear that color, and boys to be careful to
avoid it, since, due to the effects of hierarchical evaluation, it is more stigmatizing for
a boy to wear pink than for a girl to wear blue. In affluent societies, pink and blue
outfits and toys have been highly commodified along with dichotomous ways of
marketing geared to girls and to boys. This sharp divide constrains possibilities for
alternative images and choices. Through processes of this kind, the symbolic gender
assigned to color enters into empirical experiences and practices related to gender. It
has come to seem natural for little girls to love pink and for little boys to hate it, further
reinforcing the mental model we use for interpreting the world. In this way, gender in
our heads and gender in the world continually feed into one another.
4.2.2 Gender Attributions and Double Standards
Gender as frame of interpretation – variously referred to as symbolic gender,

representations of gender, or discourses of gender – also influences the way we
assign gender to people, starting, in the life course, with an initial gender attribution
like “It’s a girl!” This process may involve double standards, with behaviors
interpreted and valued differently according to the gender of the person. When
a boy does well in school, it is often considered to be the result of intelligence,
whereas if he does poorly, it might be thought that he is lazy or just bored. When
a girl does well in school, it is more often seen as the result of her dutifulness and
hard work, but if she does poorly, it may be attributed to lack of intelligence
(Walkerdine 1990). A number of researchers have found that teachers tend to notice
if girls dominate in the classroom, but not if boys dominate (Öhrn 1991). In the
USA, the SAT test, used to assess a student’s potential for learning and thus an
important gateway to higher education, was readjusted to close the gender gap in
areas where girls performed better, but not those where boys did better (Dwyer
1996). In Scandinavia, when the problems of girls in schools were debated in the
1980s, the proposed solutions focused on accomplishing changes in individuals, for
example, finding ways to strengthen girls’ self-confidence. When the problems of
boys in schools came in focus 20 years later, the analysis and solutions were framed
in a structural way: the school system did not meet the needs of boys and ought,
therefore, to be changed (Öhrn 2000).
Such double standards and attributions seldom work on a conscious level; they
slide in as taken-for-granted dimensions of ways of thinking about and practicing
gender. Unruly girls may get more on our nerves than unruly boys because we
assume that boys will be boys, whereas a girl can behave herself if she really wants
to (Gordon et al. 2000). Gender attributions also interact with and may be modified
by other categories. Connolly (1998) and Ferguson (2000) found that Black boys
are not given the same dispensation as White boys to just be “boys”; teachers more
quickly interpreted Black boys’ behavior as threatening, consequential, and as
a sign of their risk of failure. Gender attributions sometimes emerge in the percep-
tions and practices of parents who consciously want to raise sons and daughters in
similar ways (often by mixing the “positive” sides of both gender repertoires such
as instilling self-confidence, independence, friendliness, caring for others) and who

think they manage to treat their children in an equal way. But since parents tend to
interpret the same behavior in sons and daughters differently, they may end up
treating them differently as well. Scandinavian parents, for instance, generally do
not embrace negative gender stereotypical behavior, but they are more ready to
accept it if it concurs rather than goes against expectations related to the child’s
gender. Thus, parents may be more likely to worry about a quiet boy than a quiet
girl and a physically aggressive girl more than a physically aggressive boy. Hanne
Haavind’s study (1987) of Norwegian mothers with a boisterous 2-year-old and
a shy 4-year-old demonstrates this very neatly: if the 2-year-old was a girl, the
parents tried to teach her to leave her sensitive 4-year-old brother alone, but if
the 2-year-old was a boy, the quiet 4-year-old sister had to learn to cope with him
because that is how boys are. The parents saw their own actions as a response to the
particular and unique personalities of their children and were not aware of
the pattern of the gendered attributions that came into sight for the researcher
when several families were compared.
4.2.3 Gender as Category and Gender as Distribution
One central source of such gender attributions and double standards is that gender
as a concept is used to signify two quite different things: a categorical difference
(either/or) and a distributional or statistical difference (more or less of something).
Gender stereotyping involves interpreting a gendered pattern of distribution (e.g., in
a statistical study finding that boys tend to take up more space on a playground) as
a categorical distinction (generalizing that boys take up more space than girls,
which obscures the statistical distribution). This ignores variation within each group
and overlap between girls and boys. We tend to notice behavior that confirms
gender stereotypes, to marginalize as exceptional behavior that deviates from the
stereotypes, and to overlook more gender neutral behavior. There is a further
complicating issue: gender is multidimensional, and different dimensions do not
necessarily co-occur in the experiences and behavior of a single person. A boy or
a girl may be “typical” in some respects and “atypical” in others. So what is gender
if what we see as “masculine” and “feminine” traits can be found in both girls and
boys?
The only close-to-dichotomous observable gender trait – often named as the core
of biological sex – is genital difference. However, even this assumed dichotomy
doesn’t hold up, since a small number of babies are born with ambiguous genitals or
intersex conditions (Hines 2004; Fausto-Sterling 2000). All other gender dimen-
sions – whether they are biological (hormone levels, secondary sex attributes, brain
structure, motor performance), psychological (differences in motivations or cogni-
tive capacities), or behavioral (differences in preferences, and ways of being and
behaving) – involve complex variation, not dichotomy. In most cases, the variation
within each gender group is bigger than the average difference between the two
groups. Even if, on average, boys grow to be taller than girls, some girls end up
taller than some boys. If we understand those tall girls as “masculine” and the
shorter boys as “feminine,” we are actually imposing cultural stereotypes on
biological variation.
Difference in height is one of the largest average gender differences, whereas
measured psychological gender differences are all very small. Meta-analyses of the
huge amount of research dedicated to measuring psychological gender differences
confirm few clear results (Hines 2004). The reasons for this, as noted by Maccoby
and Jacklin (1974) in the first comprehensive overview of research on psycholog-
ical gender differences, may be that gender traits are highly situational, that they
tend to increase from childhood to adulthood, and that they are very difficult to
measure in unbiased ways. It is also largely unknown to what degree measures of
psychological gender differences are actually related to the gender differences
found in brain structure or whether the measures depend on learning and experience
or some mixture of both. Some behavioral differences have been connected to
prenatal exposure to androgen, especially play patterns (choice of play mates,
rough-and-tumble play), but new research has also made this less conclusive than
what was believed to be the case just a few years ago (Hines 2004). Even the biggest
gender difference in cognitive skills – that boys perform somewhat better in visual-
spatial tasks – seems to have disappeared in Swedish children after the 1980s
(Emanuelsson and Svensson 1990).
The whole idea of a one-way causal route from biology to behavior has been
questioned by research documenting the remarkable flexibility of the human
brain, the contextual contingency of bodily processes, and the ability even of
genes to adjust their effects to individual life circumstances. Thus, almost all
gender differences are distributional rather than dichotomous or categorical.
Most gender traits seem to be socially influenced and changeable over time,
and they do not come in neat and one-dimensional packages in the person. This
has led gender researchers to conclude that divisions and hierarchies of gender do
not follow from the difference between women and men. It is rather the opposite:
social and discursive practices that maintain a gender split and gender hierarchy
create the idea of fundamental dichotomous and categorical gender difference
and thus also contribute to producing differences socially and psychologically.
These assumed fundamental differences then legitimize differential treatment of
men and women and help shape subjective experience of different gender iden-
tities. Gender is thus constructed as a difference, and empirical variation in its
many dimensions becomes reduced to a simple dichotomy (Magnusson and
Marecek 2012: 41).
This does not mean that gendered patterns of behavior are a mirage or that the
patterns that do exist have no sort of biological basis (even if we do not know
exactly what that basis is). The point is that there is no clear or straightforward
connection between near-dichotomous dimensions of biological sex and the
complex, multidimensional, and context-dependent nature of gender differences.
Gendered patterns – with or without a biological basis – inform cultural norms and
expectations about what is seen as typically feminine and typically masculine.
Statistical gender distributions do not apply at the individual level, and this
means that if a child exhibits behavior typical of his or her gender, it is not possible
to decide whether this is connected to a genetic disposition or to the child having
learned to tune in to what he or she understands as the right way to mark himself as
a boy, or herself as a girl, in this particular context.
4.2.4 Being, Becoming, Doing Gender?
The focus on gender difference – whether categorical or distributional – tends to

limit the analysis of gender to being a characteristic of individuals. But gender is
also a dimension of social relations created between people and shaped through
processes of interaction. We do not necessarily understand more of the dynamics of
a classroom or a peer group by knowing about small average differences in
cognitive skills and other behaviors. While the individual perspective frames
gender as something we “are,” the interactional perspective emphasizes gender as
something we “do” (West and Zimmerman 1987). Like adults, children use gender,
as well as age, as they go about organizing and making sense of shared worlds.
Children as young as four have been found to engage in “borderwork,”
marking boundaries between boys and girls in their interactions with one another
(Lloyd and Duveen 1992). Instead of asking how boys and girls are different and
how they came to be that way, it has proven fruitful to ask “how do they come
together to help create – and sometimes challenge – gender structures and mean-
ings?” (Thorne 1993: 4) This perspective also calls attention to the dynamics of
power in social constructions of meaning. Who, in a group of children, decides what
is the right way to “do boy” or “do girl” in specific settings? This approach opens
toward understanding multiple forms of femininity and masculinity (some inflected
by dimensions such as social class, age, or racialized-ethnic status) and the hege-
monic position a particular type of femininity or masculinity may attain in a given
context (Connell 2000).
Gender as doing and gender as difference are not mutually exclusive perspec-
tives; when children learn to “do” gender in their families, in schools, and with
peers, they also “become” gender in certain ways, and this will again form their
responses to new social situations (Nielsen and Rudberg 1989; Layton 1998). The
gendered identities and behaviors that girls and boys bring with them into new
settings will have an impact on how they participate in these situations. But their
contributions will also be met and evaluated, implicitly or explicitly, by others, and
thus never left unchanged. Studies of “being” gendered and “doing” gender could
thus be seen as functionally related, revealing different aspects of social processes
involved in constructing gendered identity. Studies of individuals cannot give any
full account of the collective process of doing gender since something new is
accomplished/created in this process. But the reverse is also true: the analysis of
collective praxis does not tell us anything about the different motives of the
individuals who engage in processes of meaning making, what positions they choose
or get pushed into assuming, and what consequences this has for their sense of self
over time.
Different theories have emphasized varied aspects of the process of learning

gender in age-related ways throughout life: gender as ways of being and relating;
gender as a dimension of interaction, play, and negotiation; or gender as norm and
process of normalizing. From the 1950s onward, social scientists have variously
framed gender as a learned role, gender as power relation, gender as an outcome of
socialization, gender as attained cultural or psychological identity/subjectivity,
gender as created in interaction, and/or gender as a negotiated position in discourse.
One axis of disagreement lies in the tension between socialization versus agency: is
gender imposed on the child from the surroundings or do children actively create
gender with their peers? Another axis of disagreement concerns identity versus
relation: does gendered interaction have formative consequences for identity and
behavior of the person over time or is it something that mostly exists in moments
and immediate contexts of interaction? A third axis of disagreement moves between
the practical versus the symbolic: is gender linked to patterns of practice and
material structures, to lived life, or should it be understood mainly as negotiated
positions in cultural discourses?
We believe that these tensions should not be framed as either/or; we take an
eclectic view and seek to combine them. Gender works in a complex matrix of
bodies, structures, materialities, symbols, discourse, interaction, practices, identity,
desire, and power.
4.3 Children, Family, and Work Around the World
4.3.1 Historical Changes in Gendered Childhoods in the Global

North
In Europe and the USA, contemporary childhoods (which, in many ways, now
extend through adolescence) are organized around two main institutions: privatized
families, which are largely separated from sites of paid work, and schools. This was
not always the case. In the eighteenth century – to sketch with a very broad brush –
most children grew up in rural, agricultural contexts, contributing to household-
based economies according to configurations of custom, necessity, and ability.
Boys and girls as young as four or five often began to contribute and to learn how
to work by doing relatively simple tasks like collecting firewood and feeding
chickens. Girls (and women) typically did more of the tasks related to food
processing, cooking, washing, sewing, and infant care; and men and boys did
more of the work related to agriculture, mills, and quarries, although every able-
bodied person (including young children) might be mobilized to work in the fields
at harvest time. Thus, both girls and boys contributed to family labor systems,
although in somewhat different ways.
With the transition to industrial production in the late eighteenth and early
nineteenth centuries, children were recruited to work in textile mills, in part because
they could be paid very low wages. In Glasgow, Scotland, in the 1820s, around
35 % of the workforce in mills were under 14, and 48 % were under 16. Statistics
gathered in England and Wales in 1851 showed more boys aged 5–9 were concen-
trated in agricultural work than in cotton mills; some girls, aged 10–14, worked in
cotton mills, but many more were employed as domestic servants (Cunningham
1995). Between 1910 and 1914, Lewis Hine, an American photographer and social
reformer, took over 5,000 photographs of children working in factories, meatpack-
ing houses, sweatshops, coalmines, canneries, and cotton fields and mills (Zelizer
1985). In many of the photos of children working at textile machines and in
canneries, girls and boys are doing similar jobs; only boys are shown in photos
taken in mines.
By the late nineteenth and early twentieth century, across Europe and the USA,
the efforts of social reformers and the expansion of states into the regulation of
families and childhoods resulted in laws to end child labor and to require children to
attend at least a few years of school. Compulsory and publicly funded schools for
both girls and boys were introduced during the nineteenth century in most European
countries and in some states in the USA (it was not until 1918 that public schooling
was provided in all US states and even then with wide disparities in quality related
to social class and race (Zelizer 1985)). The removal of lower-income and working-
class children – both boys and girls – from onerous forms of paid labor and the
spread of compulsory schooling had the effect of muting class divisions in the
organization of childhoods. The emphasis on childhood as a time of schooling and
play, and a belief that it is inappropriate for children to do paid work, accompanied
ideas about “the developing child.” This imagery tends to obscure the degree to
which the lives of children continued to vary by social class, racialized ethnicity,
and gender. This variation has been documented not only by research on child
poverty but also on children’s continued participation in labor, both in and outside
of families.
4.3.2 Children and Work in the Contemporary Global North
Contemporary children in more industrialized countries tend to be depicted as

a drain on family resources – economically useless, but emotionally priceless
(Zelizer 1985; Miller 2005). This imagery, and children’s legal exclusion from
paid work (an exclusion that loosens in the teen years, although schooling continues
to be compulsory), has made it difficult to notice their varied forms of productive
activity, not only in school – which, arguably, is a form of work – but also within
families. Patterns of gender differentiation in types and amount of labor are
highlighted in research on adults; women, cross-nationally, tend to do much more
housework than men, even in families where both are employed full time. But
gender differentiation has been a subsidiary theme in surveys of children’s contri-
butions to household labor.
Research in Europe and the USA shows that, on average, children of both
genders do relatively little housework, especially when compared with the amount
of mess they create. In a 1999 US national survey of children’s use of time, Hofferth
(2009) found that 6–12-year-olds spent an average of 24 minutes a day doing
household chores. Bonke (2010) reports from a 1998 survey that Danish children
also did very small amounts of housework, but once they reached school age, girls
did more housework than boys, a pattern also found in other studies (Miller 2005).
Thus, a gendered “second shift” – with girls, on average, doing more housework
than boys, even when both attend school full time – is not limited to adults. In a US
study, Goldscheider and White (1991) found that, on average, in white, two-parent
families, teenage boys did almost no housework, but teenage girls did a fair amount.
In mother-headed, Hispanic and Black households, both daughters and sons con-
tributed more than in white families. Goldscheider and White (1991) also found that
in single-mother families, regardless of race, both boys and girls did twice as much
housework as those living in two-parent families.
Two themes in our earlier conceptual discussion help make sense of gendered
patterns in children’s unpaid and paid work: at most, gender differences are
statistical, not categorical, and gender intersects with other lines of difference
and inequality. The extent and type of work done by girls and by boys may vary
depending on the type of economic arrangement (e.g., small, family-owned shops
vs. heavy factory labor), parental income, household configurations, birth order,
and cultural ideas about gender, age, and patterns of obligation. Research in the
USA shows significant social class and gender variation in the contributions of
children, especially teenagers, to family labor systems. At the privileged end of
the class spectrum, both girls and boys tend to do far less around the home and
expect prolonged support from parents. But in low-income families, minimal
earnings and the absence of parents due to long hours of employment tend to
push responsibilities for the care of younger children and housework onto older
children, especially girls. Dodson and Dickert (2004) document a pattern in which
low-income single mothers from racial ethnically diverse backgrounds, with no
money to pay for child care and no adult kin available to help out, rely on teenage
daughters to care for younger children. Child-outcome studies of families where
mothers were forced by state policies to leave welfare and take on low-wage jobs
show negative effects for adolescent girls with younger siblings (Dodson and
Dickert 2004).
Research on immigrant families living in the USA illustrates cultural variation
and the effects of special circumstances, in this case, migration, on gendered
patterns of children’s work. Families immigrating from global South countries
often assume that children will be contributing members of the household; as
a Guatemalan mother in Los Angeles told her children, “You have a family, and
if we’re a family, we work together” (Orellana 2001). Orellana (2001) describes the
many domestic chores undertaken by a 7-year-old girl in this family; her brother,
a year younger, did far less domestic work. A similar pattern characterized the daily
life of a 12-year-old girl in a Yemeni family living in Oakland; after school and on
weekends, she did a great deal of child care and housework (nonimmigrant, middle-
class girls who were her classmates did little work at home). The Yemeni-American
girl’s brother, close in age, did little work at home, but after school and during
weekends, he helped his father and uncles at the family-owned mini-mart
(Thorne et al. 2003).
4.3.3 Gendered Patterns in Children’s Labor and Schooling in the

Global South
Over the last three decades, processes of globalization have accelerated the move-
ment across national borders not only of people (workers at every level of skill;
immigrants, transmigrants, refugees), commodities (including a rapidly expanding
array of products geared to children and young people), media, and images. The
assumption that boys and girls should be attending school has spread globally, but
the reality is sharply divided by social class and, to some degree, by gender. Over
a decade ago, Tobias Hecht (1998) documented a spatial and social divide between
two starkly different kinds of urban childhood in Brazil. The poor (the vast majority
in a country with deep economic inequality) live, at best, at a subsistence level, with
pressure on all household members, including both girls and boys, starting at
a young age, to contribute. Hecht highlights children’s economic contributions
and the sense of obligation that frames their work by referring to this pattern as
“nurturing childhood,” in contrast with the “nurtured childhoods” of the affluent,
who live in privatized families and attend school. As in the USA, in big cities in
Brazil, neither boys nor girls in highly affluent families are expected to do much
work apart from going to school.
The division between an elite stratum of girls and boys who have full access to
schooling and the majority of far less affluent and often impoverished children who
engage in various configurations of paid and/or unpaid work, increasingly along
with attending at least some school, characterizes children’s lives in much of the
global South or “majority world.” In 2008, the International Labour Organization
estimated that worldwide, 215 million children were involved in child labor,
a decline of 3 % from 2004. Child labor among girls (an ILO category that does
not include many forms of unpaid household work) declined by 15 %, but boys’
labor increased by 7 % (ILO 2008). The work children do ranges from very low-
paid work in mines, factories, quarries, and agriculture, to working in restaurants or
shops, to prostitution (where girls predominate, especially in trafficked sex). Most
child work takes place in informal economies; millions of children, the majority of
them girls, work as domestic helpers for their own or other families.
Loretta Bass’ (2004) research in Africa shows how gender may thread through
patterns of children’s work and schooling. More than two-thirds of the estimated
28 % of children in Ghana who work for pay also attend school (around 90 % of
children in Ghana help with household chores). There is a gender gap in schooling –
two-thirds of girls and three-fourths of boys attend school – and in work – with girls
working longer hours on average than boys. Because of cultural conventions, boys
tend to work in wage labor and girls in unpaid domestic work. The time require-
ments of girls’ domestic labor more often compete with their ability to attend
school, which helps account for their lower rates of school attendance.
In the USA and some European countries, girls, on average, are now
outperforming boys in overall educational achievement. But in much of the
world, girls’ disadvantage in education continues, especially in Africa and the
Middle East. Globally, it is estimated that 72 million children of primary school
age are not attending school; of these, 54 % are girls (United Nations 2010). For
youth worldwide, however, the literacy gap between boys and girls has narrowed
to 5 % (among adults, worldwide, nearly 64 % of illiterate adults are women)
(United Nations 2010).
4.4 Gender and the Daily Lives of Children in the Global North
Researchers working in global North contexts have found that children develop an
emotional commitment to their gender as early as 2 years of age. When they arrive
in preschool, many of them already act, speak, and behave according to conven-
tional images of gender – although the content of these images may vary consid-
erably. Images of gender may also shift over the life course and as a person moves
from one context to another.
4.4.1 Gender-Separated Friendships, Groups, and Social Relations
Separation in the social relations and activities of girls and boys in middle child-
hood appears to be a relatively dispersed as well as a highly contextualized
phenomenon. Cross-cultural research indicates that gender separation is the stron-
gest and least flexible in the age span from 5 to 11 years, with boys defending the
gender border more fiercely than girls (Whiting and Whiting 1988). New research
from Scandinavia, where gender relations in general have become more equal
during recent decades, does not indicate any radical change in this pattern (Gordon
et al. 2000; Nielsen 2009). However, this research also indicates that gender
separation among children interacts with specific social conditions; for example,
while, overall, Scandinavian children experience less gender-differentiated life
experience than in the past, this pattern is in tension with the amplified gendering
of children’s experiences of commercial culture.
Gender segregation may be institutionalized, for instance, in schools, classes,
subjects, work groups, seating arrangements, and out-of-school activities, although
less so today than previously in Scandinavia and in the USA. Nonetheless, some
teachers still tend to reinforce the split, especially in situations of disciplining
(Thorne 1993; Nielsen 2009). However, gender separation is also a child-driven
project, and adult intervention to promote the relaxed mixing of girls and boys may
not be very successful even though girls and boys separate more often on play-
grounds than in classrooms. Children’s promotion of separation between boys and
girls varies with the situation. It tends to be stronger in crowded and institutional-
ized settings where children watch each other, and it often dissolves in more private
and personalized contexts (Thorne 1993). Boys and girls who are friends outside
school may belittle or even hide this fact when they meet each other in school or are
together with larger groups of friends.
Children’s separation into same-gender groups may help them develop and
maintain collective identity, since gender is relatively simple to enact as
a dichotomy and carries important cultural meaning that children try to grasp.
Bronwyn Davies (1989/2003) calls the phenomenon “category maintenance”;
Barrie Thorne (1993) uses the anthropological concept of “borderwork” to describe
children’s active efforts to demarcate themselves from the other gender. Such
borderwork can take many forms, ranging from discrete avoidance to teasing and
fighting charged with feelings of thrill and excitement. In some contexts, for instance,
when a group of children oppose the authority of a teacher or children from another
classroom, the gender border may be provisionally suspended. Gender borders tend to
soften up toward the end of primary school, but the excitement of chasing games at this
age also may coexist with despair if one is at risk of personally being identified with the
other gender or with something that is related to love or sexuality.
Studies of gender separation and a contrastive emphasis on the dynamics of
girls’ and boys’ worlds have been criticized for perpetuating stereotypes instead of
deconstructing them and for universalizing gender traits that may be highly tied to
Western cultures and also to certain social class and ethnic groups. While it is true
that a “difference” perspective may tend to overlook variation and the social
interaction between girls and boys within which such differences are articulated,
it is also problematic to neglect that fact that gendered patterns exist and have
salience for children. Thus, gender patterns should neither be exaggerated nor
overlooked. Such patterns often apply more to the “most popular half” than to
others in a social class or school (Thorne 1993) – but this half is also often those
who shape desirable ways of being a girl or a boy in particular settings. Thus, the
patterns tend to become normative, and this means that children who do not
conform are pressed to negotiate their relation to this norm in some way.
Research on children’s friendships and social relations in Europe and the USA
finds that girls’ preoccupation with intimacy and social relations and boys’ ten-
dency to stir up each other through performance and competition are relatively
stable patterns (Frosh et al. 2002; Nielsen 2009). The pattern may be expressed in
the ways children allocate attention, their choice of strategies of communication,
and how they establish friendships. Girls’ interpersonal interest is often expressed
in dyadic friendships where they use relational competence both as a means of
establishing contact and of fighting and betraying each other. When girls form
friendships, they often seek points of similarity, creating strings of attachments
between them. But girls’ groups may also be characterized by struggles for freedom
and fights for alliances. The social life of girls seems to waver between these poles
of care and attention and (often indirect) aggression to mark boundaries and make
alliances. In interviews, girls often articulate details about their complicated rela-
tional world, whereas boys tend to talk less about relations and the social processes
of which they are a part. Boys’ more assertive and often more openly aggressive
behavior can be connected to their more hierarchical and competitive social life,
where getting public attention and admiration from a group of boys counts more
than intimate relations and where demonstrating their superiority over girls may
sometimes be a way of establishing a collective male identity (on boys’ and girls’
play and social relations, see, for instance, Paley 1984; Nielsen and Rudberg 1989;
Hey 1997; Reay 2001; Jordan and Cowan 2004; Pascoe 2007). However, new
research from Scandinavia indicates that the values of boys’ groups have become
less macho. Even if boys still tend to stick to a hierarchical structure in their groups,
there is more room for care and comforting each other and even for talking about
feelings (Nordberg 2008; Nielsen 2009). Girls tend to be showing more individu-
alistic behavior in combination with relational interests. One way of trying to grasp
persistent gendered patterns in children’s play and friendship is to ask how these
patterns interact with changing contexts and new social conditions and in what
ways they may also gain new meaning.
4.4.2 Gender in the Classroom
Until the mid-twentieth century, gender differentiation – whether through separate

schools, separate classes, or different curricula – was often a goal in global North
countries in order to prepare girls and boys for their future roles and tasks in society.
This began to shift in Scandinavia and the USA after World War II, when an
emphasis on equal rights and an educational ideology emphasizing child-centered
development and learning gained dominance. “Boys” and “girls” became
“children” or “students,” and mixed-gender schools became the norm.
However, even though these shifts in language and institutional arrangements
had the effect of muting gender as a central defining feature of students, many of the
earlier assumptions and practices constitutive of gender difference remained
remarkably intact. The ideal “ungendered” child of ideologies of child development
was implicitly a generic male (Walkerdine 1990) – and in many classroom studies,
those observed and referred to as “students” were actually boys. Before 1970, the
few studies focusing on gender influences in classroom interaction criticized the
treatment of boys in primary school, claiming that teachers, being mostly women,
were unable to meet the boys’ learning needs effectively (Brophy 1985).
During the 1970s, feminist researchers began to make girls visible in classroom
research and to reveal problematic patterns hidden by the cloak of egalitarian
educational discourses (Spender and Sarah 1980). Gender had remained a major
organizing principle of classrooms under the claim and intention of gender neu-
trality. In a meta-analysis of 81 quantitative studies of primary and secondary
schools, Kelly (1988) showed that in all countries studied, across all ages, school
levels, subjects, and socioeconomic and ethnic groupings, girls received fewer
instructional contacts, fewer high-level questions and academic criticism, less
behavioral criticism, and slightly less praise than boys. One of the earliest Scandi-
navian studies of gender in the classroom concluded: “The overall picture of
teachers’ relationship to students of both sexes indicates that the girls do get
some praise for their obedience and willingness to please the teacher, but that
they pay a price for this by being forgotten and taken for granted, they do not
exist as individuals in their teachers’ minds” (Wernersson 1977: 254, translated
from Swedish). This pattern may also be inflected by racialized ethnicity, as shown
by a US study finding that Black girls in primary school more than other groups of
students were encouraged to assume roles that developed their social more than
their academic skills (Grant 1994). Even though girls were often praised as good
pupils in primary school, performed better, and were reported to be more satisfied
with school, several studies indicated a serious decrease in girls’ self-esteem as they
moved through secondary school (Brown and Gilligan 1992). Although girls
continued to get better marks than boys, teachers often perceived girls’ classroom
participation to change dramatically and for the worse in adolescence, becoming
less compliant, less self-confident, and participating less in classroom discussions
(Hjort 1984; Davies 1984).
In the 1980s, the focus shifted from analyses of inequality produced through
differential treatment and double standards in the classroom to a focus on the active
role children themselves play in constructing gendered worlds and taking up
gendered discourse (Davies 1989/2003; Thorne 1993). This was an important
interpretive shift in which girls’ cooperative style was no longer seen as an
expression of inherent obedience and passivity, but as an active taking up of
gendered identity. The subtle interplay between the priorities and social orienta-
tions of girls and boys, the structure and content of classroom discourse, and the
responses they received from teachers were seen as almost inevitably maintaining
and reinforcing the traditional gender order.
The different social orientations of girls and boys were also seen as gender
specific platforms for strategies of resistance toward power asymmetries in the
classroom, especially in secondary school. Studies of youth cultures analyzed
different gendered, ethnic, and class identities as positions for gaining power and
control both in relation to teachers and in peer groups. Some working-class boys,
for instance, seemed to oppose the middle-class culture of school through macho
behavior, strengthening both their working-class male identity and the likelihood of
dropping out of school (see, for instance, Willis 1977; Kryger 1988). Similarly girls
could sometimes use docility to gain facilities or advantages, and they could use
their interactive skills in order to gain influence. Adolescent working-class girls
appeared to have their own patterns of resistance, using more personal weapons
against teachers and school routines (e.g., see Davies 1984; Lees 1986).
In post-structuralist informed studies from the 1990s, the focus changed to the
discursive practices through which culturally available meanings are taken up and
lived out. These studies asked what positions are open for students to identify with
in the gendered discourses of learning, and how do students position themselves
in relation to such gendered discourses (for instance, Walkerdine 1990; Davies
1989/2003; Staunæs 2004). To do gender in the classroom is to continuously
negotiate, maintain, or oppose the positionings offered in classroom talk. At the
same time, because gendered images, metaphors and narratives are part of
the everyday, unexamined discursive practices of the classroom, they mostly pass
unnoticed by both teachers and students.
Recent studies have taken a broader social constructionist approach and put
more emphasis on the open and ongoing processes through which students con-
struct themselves as gendered subjects within specific contexts and organizational
framings (see, for instance, Gordon et al. 2000; Reay 2001; Ambj€ornsson 2004;
McLeod and Yates 2006). School ethnographies combining observations,
interviews, and visual material from everyday life at school with an analysis of the
wider material and political structures outside the specific school have become
more prevalent. New emphasis has been put on relations between constructions of
gender and of sexualities (for instance, Mac an Ghaill 1994; Pascoe 2007). The
complexity, ambivalence, and multiplicity of masculinities and femininities among
and within individuals has been emphasized and also the intersecting character of
different social categories: gender, ethnicity, class and sexuality are not seen as
additive identities, but rather as mutually constituting at every moment in the school
setting, resulting in an array of different and fluid, but also hierarchically ordered
forms of masculinities and femininities which come into existence by being “done”
in interaction (e.g., see Connolly 1998; Ferguson 2000).
4.4.3 “New Girls” and “Failing Boys?”
The unfolding of different research perspectives throughout the last decades makes
it difficult to say what changes in gendered classroom talk have taken place during
that period. Different groups of students have been viewed from different perspec-
tives in varied studies and at different times (Öhrn 2002). Studies of classroom
interaction and gendered identities from the 1990s indicate a situation of both
continuity and change. Several studies (including more recent school ethnogra-
phies) have found discourse patterns in classrooms similar to those in the 1970s. At
the same time, they convey a more nuanced picture of variation related to social
class, race, ethnicity, and educational context. It is not easy, however, to say
whether this variation is due to changes in the ways gender may be expressed in
schools today or to greater awareness on the part of the researchers relying both on
the 1990s critique of the gender binary and on efforts in the 1970s and 1980s to
make gender visible.
Since the early 1990s, a new figure has become visible, especially in research in
Scandinavian classrooms: an active girl who keeps intact her relational interests and
competencies but does not lose her self-confidence at adolescence. She does better
than boys, not only in regard to marks but also in regard to coping with new
qualification demands in school and society (see, for instance, Öhrn 2002; Nielsen
2004). When at the same time there are fewer manual jobs for boys with school
fatigue, the net effect may be an advance for girls, especially from the middle class.
New organizational models of group and project work seem even more than
traditional classroom teaching to privilege high achieving students, and these
students are more often found among girls and middle-class students, than among
boys and working-class students. Studies from other countries show that working-
class girls underachieve compared to middle-class girls, but the latter group of well-
performing girls also report more stress and anxiety due to their own and their
parents’ expectations of academic success (Walkerdine et al. 2001). Surveys from
the USA report continued lack of confidence among adolescent girls, a pattern
inflected by racialized ethnicity: reduced self-esteem in adolescence is highest
among Latino girls and lowest among African-American girls (Ohrenstein 1994).
As a mirror to the focus on the “new girl,” the discourse of “failing boys” has
become prevalent in public and educational debate (see, for instance, Epstein et al.
1998; Martino and Meyenn 2001). More boys have trouble with dyslexia, reading,
and behavior and oppositional defiant disorder, and in recent years, there has been
a dramatic increase in the number of boys diagnosed and medicated for ADHD. Some
of these differences may have a biological foundation (Hines 2004), and this may
explain why girls always, in fact, have done better in primary school and why more
boys than girls have been defined as needing special education (Öhrn 2002). What is
new is that girls today tend to also keep up the lead in subjects like math and science
where boys earlier surpassed them in secondary school. On average, in Scandinavia,
the UK, and the USA, girls do better in practically all subjects, and they tend to keep
their lead throughout school and thus are also becoming a majority in higher
education. However, girls’ success in school does not automatically translate into
an advantage in the labor market (Arnot et al. 1999). It is also important to be aware
that the difference in students’ achievements related to gender and ethnicity is small
compared to the difference related to social class (Ball et al. 2000).
A difficulty in connecting this to what goes on in the classroom is, however, that
girls’ and boys’ situations in school are often analyzed from different perspectives –
the “new” girls in term of agency and “failing” boys in terms of an assumed
feminized school context (Öhrn 2002). During the 1970s and 1980s, there was
a tendency to analyze boys in terms of social class, and girls in terms of gender, but
the opposite is the case today where the “new” girl is often explicitly individual-
ized, white and middle class, and the “failing” boys are grouped together as the
losing gender. A range of political agendas and research perspectives inform
current research on boys. The “what about the boys?” studies continue with the
approach of the 1970s in which female teachers are blamed for boys’ failure and
unhappiness. The “multiple masculinities” agenda focuses on varieties of mascu-
linity and blames the dominant boys for not accepting difference. The more post-
structurally oriented studies question the automatic assumption of masculinities of
one kind or another as being inextricably linked to the male-sexed body.
Does the degree to which girls lead in school – in combination with a general
crisis of traditional masculinities in global North countries – increase anti-school
attitudes among boys? Some boys see reading books and doing well in school as
feminizing, and thus to be opposed, and the concept of “laddishness” has been used
to describe the culture of boys who do not do well in school (see, for instance,
Mac an Ghaill 1994; Connell 2000; Jackson 2006; Lyng 2009). Connell argues that
many boys respond to the degradation of masculinity by investing in other arenas
like sport, physical aggression, and sexual conquest. Others point to an element of
defense against the fear of not succeeding in school; it is easier to say that one has
not tried than that one has failed. Hegemonic masculinities, fear of feminization,
and fear of failing may all be involved.
Another complexity is that even if schools today are to some degree character-
ized by new ways of constructing gender identities among girls and boys, teachers’
interpretation of the students may not have changed to the same extent. Teachers
tend to see oppositional girls as a bigger nuisance than oppositional boys, and they
often discipline girls for disruptive behavior they would tolerate in boys (Connolly
1998; Reay 2001; Nielsen 2009). Öhrn (1991) found in a study of Swedish
classrooms that being outspoken and active do not necessarily give girls individu-
ality in the classroom. Even when girls were outspoken, teachers continued to frame
boys as individuals and girls by groups (with labels for active groups of girls, such
as the “girl mafia”). The 1990s discourse of failing boys has aroused much more
immediate attention than the discourse of silent and insecure girls in the 1970s and
1980s. The old gender order may also be seen in the research itself where the
attention of even aware researchers has been easily drawn toward boys, while girls
remain marginalized (Gordon et al. 2000).
4.4.4 Gender and Body Projects in Adolescence
In the transition from primary to secondary school, girls and boys often use
different strategies to mark themselves as older (see, for instance, Frosh et al.
2002; Haavind 2003). These strategies could be seen in relation to differing social
orientations in childhood. Boys tend to use strategies such as forming close and
loyal all-male groups or even gangs, engaging with sports, and/or being tough and
engaging in rule-breaking behavior. In contrast, girls more often stage themselves
in a female heterosexual position, which in Western culture is often connected to
exposing the body in tight clothing and investigating possible romantic relations
(see, for instance, Lees 1986; Frost 2001; Hauge 2003). Performing well in school
may become antagonistic to popularity, but not necessarily so. This may depend, in
part, on configurations of social class and ethnicity among the students.
In secondary school, gender difference often becomes more exaggerated and
eroticized. Much of the student talk and teasing documented in British, Scandina-
vian, and US secondary schools circle around style, appearances, and parts of the
body, with public assessment related to gender and sexuality. This focus may split
up previous groups of friends, leading to cliques and hierarchies of the more and
less popular (see, for instance, Lees 1986; Eder et al. 1995; Frosh et al. 2002).
Strong pressure toward heteronormativity at this age is also seen in sexualized
harassment and use of words like “slut” and “gay” as insults. In a recent ethnographic
study of constructions of masculinity in a US high school, C. J. Pascoe (2007)
documents both hegemonic patterns of heterosexualized and aggressive masculinity
enacted by boys who are socially dominant in the school and the experiences of boys
who have come out as gay. Over the last few decades, the teasing and harassment of
gay and lesbian youth in schools have become a focus of research, media reports, and
intervention. Students who do not feel attracted or ready for heterosexualized talk and
relations often become marginalized. Girls from cultural backgrounds where other
markers of adulthood are used – like Muslim girls in Scandinavia who begin to wear
head scarves – may also be excluded from the dominant culture and be seen as overly
dependent on their families (Hauge 2003; Pichler 2009).
A focus on gender and sexuality among secondary school students may not be
new, but the increased significance of the body as identity project is a more
contemporary development, with body shape and appearance more deeply

connected to self-esteem and identity (see, for instance, Bordo 1993/1989; Frost
2001; Oinas 2001). The body has become a project (Brumberg 1997). Adolescent
girls today (and at increasing younger ages) are vulnerable to the prevalent use and
exploitation of the body in marketing and popular culture and also to real and
imagined gazes from the boys at school. Eating disorders and dissatisfaction with
their own bodies have become an epidemic among girls in various parts of Europe
and the USA, and these problems are also emerging among boys. However, recent
observations in Scandinavia and the USA suggest that the traditional opposition
between being a clever girl and being feminine and sexy has been eroded. Some
girls seem to feel free not to have to choose between being smart or sexy, although
this amplifies demands, especially among young middle-class women, to be perfect
in everything – slender, good looking, clever, ambitious, sexy, lots of friends –
causing stress and burnout (Bordo 1993/1989; Ambj€ornsson 2004).
The focus on the body brings new dilemmas. There is a more public focus on
girls’ bodies than boys’ bodies in secondary school, and the popular boys often
have the upper hand since they can draw on the widespread derogating images of
women’s bodies and sexuality as well as operate in groups whose members
defend each other. In contrast, girls do not have recourse to a similar discourse
about men nor, in most cases, can they match this form of organization. Girls also
display ambivalence since getting attention for one’s looks is a parameter of
being popular. Girls in secondary school may waver between exposing their
bodies to mark themselves as attractive young women and hiding them to prevent
sexist comments from boys. The ambivalent position of girls’ bodies may unset-
tle the power balance between girls and boys in secondary school. Even
though girls, on average, may sustain an academic lead, some of them also lose
some of their power and self-confidence over the course of secondary school. The
relation to boys seems to take more energy for girls in school at this point than
do boys’ relations to girls (see, for instance, Holland et al. 1998; Frost 2001;
Nielsen 2009).
4.5 Globalization and Children’s Gendered Consumption
Images of highly gendered and sexualized female bodies and muscular and aggres-
sive male bodies pervade the commercialized forms of popular culture that, by the
late twentieth century, had come to infuse the daily lives of children not only in the
global North but also in many parts of the global south. Global corporations design
and advertise products geared to market niches that amplify and institutionalize
distinctions of gender and age. For example, in the 1990s, US marketers coined the
word “tween” to refer to girls, roughly between the ages of 7 and 13, who aspire to
embody the sexualized styles associated with “teens” (Cook and Kaiser 2004).
Distinctive styles of tight clothing, platform shoes, and rock music began to be
designed for and helped constitute this emergent age/gender segment of consumers.
In recent years, corporations have begun to promote special deodorants and hair
products designed for “tween” boys. Niche creation continues, heightening age-
marked gender distinctions in order to maximize profit.
Barbie dolls – the first “fashion adult doll” with pointed breasts, typically
bought for and by girls younger than tweens – are marketed by Mattel, a US-based
corporation, but the dolls are assembled, often by young women factory workers,
in China, Malaysia, and Indonesia with plastic from Taiwan and hair from Japan
(Tempest 1996). Mattel advertises and distributes Barbie dolls around the world,
with varying degrees of design adaptation (changes of skin, hair color, and dress)
and market success. Grewal (1999) studied the marketing of and responses to
various versions of Barbie in India; the “regular” white, blonde Barbie dressed in
a sari did not sell well; another version with black hair, a bindi, and bangles did
better; later versions continued to segment a market geared to middle- and upper-
class girls in India and in the South Asian diaspora. But marketers have found
that, compared with children in Japan and in global North countries, children in
India are not as individuated as separate consumers (Grewal 1999). Chin (1999)
observed low-income black girls playing with white Barbies, braiding their
blonde hair into corn rows and other hair styles central to African-American
culture. In short, while children are influenced by the gendered, sexualized,
racialized, and (as in violent video games) aggressively masculine messages of
commercial culture, they also exert agency and even resistance in the ways they
use these objects.
Commercialized images of gender, age, sexuality, and other interrelated
differences pervade not only the world of objects, but also the media
(e.g., video games, television, movies, and comic books) that are consumed by
children and global in reach. For example, violent and aggressive forms of mascu-
linity are pervasive in the world of video games (Alloway and Gilbert 1998). The
conventionally masculine skew of many games may help account for differences in
the time boys and girls spend using video games. A 2007–2008 survey of
a nationally representative sample of 12–17-year-olds and their parents in the
USA found that almost all of those surveyed played video games, but boys were
more likely than girls to be intensive gamers, playing on a daily basis for
a relatively long duration (Lenhart et al. 2008). Boys were also more likely than
girls to play a wider variety of genres, including action, shooting, fighting, and
survival games. Girls and boys were equally likely to play games that involved
racing, rhythm, simulation, or virtual worlds. Girls more often reported playing
puzzle games. There is considerable debate (and inconclusive evidence) about
the effects of media on children, including effects on gendered experiences and
relations (Drotner et al. 2009).
Access to consumer goods depends on having monetary resources to buy them,
but researchers have found that low-income parents in the USA will often stretch to
buy their children a much desired pair of Nike shoes if that will help a child be
socially accepted (Pugh 2009). Pugh found that in three California elementary
schools, Nintendo Game Boys (a video-gaming system) were highly valued,
discussed, and owned by boys from across the class and racial-ethnic spectrum;
far fewer girls owned or played with Game Boys. However, there was a deep social
class divide in children’s access to far more expensive – and, in the long-term
highly consequential – market-based contexts such as private schools, afterschool
and tutoring programs, and summer camps.
Anthropologists have theorized empirical relations between children, youth, and
globalization, with gendered twists in some of their arguments and examples. The
widening gaps between rich and poor that have accompanied neoliberal global
economic restructuring are especially pronounced among children (of both gen-
ders), especially with the decline of class-leveling public schools and provisioning
for children, as in the UK and the USA. Cindi Katz (2004) has traced the differen-
tiated ways in which global capitalism, including processes of commodification, are
interrupting traditional processes of social reproduction in a rural village in the
Sudan and in Harlem in New York City. At the same time, the rapid movements of
people, images, and commodities that accompany globalizing processes nurture
global imaginations (Cole and Durham 2008). For example, Cole (2008) describes
young women in Madagascar who use various fashion practices to attract European
men, hoping, in a period when futures opened by schooling seem uncertain, that this
may be a route to social and economic mobility.
4.6 Summary
In this chapter, we have employed two different, but interacting perspectives on

children and gender: gender as empirical patterns and gender as a frame of
interpretation. Conventional ways of framing gender tend to turn variation into
a dichotomy of male/female, with more value placed on the male side. This way of
seeing ignores complex variation within each gender group and leads to stereotyped
gender attributions, double standards, and unequal treatment of girls and boys. As
empirical pattern, gender is deeply entangled with other lines of difference and
inequality, such as age, sexuality, social class, nationality, and racialized ethnicity.
These entanglements shape the organization, salience, and meanings of gender in
particular contexts. Gender is multifaceted, a dimension of bodies and physical
reproduction; individual identities and personal experience; social relations and
everyday interaction; and divisions of labor and the structuring of institutions such
as families, schools, markets, and states.
Children’s lives, including the gendered dimensions, differ in significant ways,
depending on whether they live in industrialized and affluent countries, or in the more
impoverished countries of the “global South.” This chapter has directed more atten-
tion to children in the “global North” since most research on children and gender
stems from this context. Contemporary childhoods in the global North are organized
around two main institutions: privatized families and schools. In general, children do
relatively little housework; however, school-age girls do considerably more than
boys, but this pattern also intersects with other dimensions of difference and inequal-
ity. In the global South, the assumption that boys and girls should be attending school
has spread, but the reality is sharply divided by social class and, to some degree, by
gender. In many of these countries, both girls and boys make work contributions to
their families starting at an early age. Millions of children, the majority of them girls,
work as domestic helpers for their own or other families.
Gendered patterns in play and schooling have been researched in the global
North. Separation in the social relations and activities of girls and boys in middle
childhood appears to be a relatively dispersed as well as a highly contextualized
phenomenon. In crowded and institutionalized settings, children are often engaged
in borderwork to uphold the segregation, and this seems to be relatively unaffected
by changing gender relations in the society at large. Research on gendered patterns
in children’s friendships and social relations shows a complex pattern of stable and
changing features; girls’ preoccupation with intimacy may be combined with more
individualistic behavior, and boys’ tendency to stir each other up through perfor-
mance and competition may be combined with values of care. Change has also
taken place in the classroom – from a situation 30–40 years ago with quiet girls and
domineering boys to the present situation where many girls take an active position
in classroom talk and on average perform better than boys. This change seems to be
related both to less gender stereotypical expectations and to changed demands of
qualifications in school and society. Gender stereotypical differential treatment by
teachers may still prevail, however. So may gender stereotypical conceptions of
body and appearances, especially during adolescence. Strong pressure toward
heteronormativity at this age is also seen in sexualized harassment and use of
words like “slut” and “gay” as insults.
The increased significance of the body as identity project has made boys more
occupied with their appearances but also made young women more vulnerable to
the prevalent use and exploitation of the body in marketing and popular culture.
Eating disorders and dissatisfaction with their own bodies have become epidemic
among the new active and highly performing girls. Increased commodification
and commercialized images of gender, age, and sexuality in popular culture in
the times of neoliberal global economic restructuring help fuel this trend, even
as these processes contribute to widening the gaps between rich and poor
children.
How does this multifaceted framework for thinking about children and gender
bear on issues of well-being? Children’s present and future capabilities to flourish,
to participate fully in life, and to experience satisfaction are severely diminished by
conditions of coercion, violence, exploitation, harsh labor situations, and depriva-
tion of opportunities for education and healthy growth. As we have discussed,
gender (in conjunction with age, social class, racialized ethnicity, and other dis-
tinctions) enters into the distribution of these conditions. For example, girls are
more often sexually trafficked than are boys, while recent global data indicates that
more boys are engaged in onerous forms of paid labor. Rates of ADHD and
“oppositional defiant disorder” are higher among boys, while girls have higher
rates of depression and eating disorders. But, to reiterate one of our key points, none
of these patterns is dichotomous; social conditions and gendered practices and
meanings vary and change over time. Gender, as we have shown, involves the
imposition of dichotomy and hierarchy upon empirical variation. Dichotomous
framings of the normal and desirable render some children vulnerable to bullying
and harassment; feeling at home in one’s body and able to express gender in ways
that feel comfortable is surely one facet of well-being.
Amartya Sen’s (2005) discussion of the distinction between – and the interre-
latedness of – well-being and agency is highly relevant to questions about children,
gender, and well-being. Growing up under conditions of gender inequality and
differential treatment shapes patterns of agency, not only during childhood but also
in the kind of adult the child will have a chance of becoming. As Sen points out, on
a global scale, women’s access to agency is vital not only for their own well-being
but also for the well-being of men and children. Women’s access to agency starts in
childhood, and in this way well-being in relation to gender and children also
extends to the creation of a better future for everyone.
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Childhood and Intergenerationality:
Toward an Intergenerational Perspective 5
on Child Well-Being
Leena Alanen
5.1 Introduction
Research on well-being (alternatively welfare) has in recent years grown with the
well-being of children emerging in tandem as a key topic. This handbook in itself
is a clear indication of the recognition of a focus on children in well-being
research as being both justifiable and timely. However, research communities
have by no means been the first to raise this topic on the agenda. Instead, those
child advocacy agencies worldwide (such as UNICEF) and children’s rights
initiatives, which have increasingly based their activities on the UN Convention
of the Rights of the Child, have been the leaders in producing and distributing
information on the state of childhood in the world and in individual countries.
Over the years, initiatives have also been taken to establish both national and
cross-national systems of statistical indicators for measuring children’s well-
being. However, this has been mostly for the purpose of informing and guiding
policy-making, of testing the performance of policies and, more recently, of
providing reliable data for social reporting on children’s societal status and the
conditions of their lives.
In each of these projects, the meaning of “child well-being” is given an answer in
one form or another, however implicit that answer may be, and in many cases rests
on publicly accepted and assumed “truths” on the subject. In the world of policy-
making, this is perhaps only to be expected, as the rationalities of policy-making
and of science tend not to coincide (cf. Hudson and Lowe 2004), and the theoretical
foundation of the assumed understandings of well-being takes a second place to the
more immediate aims of developing common protocols and consistent, shared
measures and summary indices of children’s well-being (cf. Hauser et al. 1997;
Gasper 2004; Manderson 2005). In academic research, and in order to gain valid
L. Alanen
Department of Education, University of Jyv€askyl€a, Jyv€askyl€a, Finland

132 L. Alanen
knowledge on child well-being, the question of how researchers conceptualize the

object of their work is naturally paramount.
A broad agreement among scholars of well-being continues to be that definitions
of well-being are both variable and often conceptually confused; the field is in need
of conceptual clarification. A useful distinction for rethinking concepts of well-
being is made by Ruth Lister (2004) in her critical reading of poverty research and
the way its central notion of poverty (which often figures as one of the “dimensions”
of children’s well-being) tends to be handled. Lister contends that across the
relevant research literature, the same term used in different ways which in turn
transfers to policy-making. She underlines that to understand the phenomenon of
poverty, it is important to differentiate between concepts, definitions, and
measures (Lister 2004, pp. 3–8). Concepts operate at a fairly general level,
and they provide the framework within which definitions (of concepts) and
measurements (operationalizations of definitions) are then developed. Defini-
tions (and therefore also measures) mediate concepts in the sense that explana-
tions of poverty and its distribution are in fact implicit in definitions of poverty.
For this reason, it is first important that definitions are not divorced from their
wider conceptualizations and, second, that their relationships to wider concep-
tual frameworks (which may be envisioned as networks of interrelated concepts)
are clarified. Only then, Lister surmises, definitions can function as an adequate
basis for developing measures. The problem in much poverty research, she
notes (2004, pp. 6–7), is that researchers typically begin their work with
definitions – instead of concepts – and then continue to develop measures, but
while doing this, they tend to mistake their definition for a concept or simply
conflate definitions and concepts. The result is that the conceptual frameworks
on which different understandings of poverty are actually founded are lost from
sight, not to mention from analysis; in addition, the historical and political
constructedness of the adopted notion of poverty is left unconsidered. Naturally,
this can have crucial implications for the politics of poverty as concepts never
stand outside history and culture; they are always contested and also have
practical effects.
It is hardly an overstatement to note that a similar situation prevails as regards
the notion of well-being and even more so as regards children’s well-being (see,
e.g., Clark and Gough 2005; Nussbaum 2005; McGillivray 2007; Morrow and
Mayall 2009; Camfield et al. 2010). While it might be in one sense true that
“there has been a marked growth in studies on childhood well-being in recent
years” (Fegter et al. 2010, p. 7), the volume of publishing in the field indicates
that the largest growth is taking place in the development of measurements and
indicators. In fact, a journal (Child Indicators Research) has been established,
beginning from 2008, to publish work in this field: The journal aims to focus on
“measurements and indicators of children’s well-being, and their usage within
multiple domains and in diverse cultures. The Journal will present measures and
data resources, analysis of the data, exploration of theoretical issues, and informa-
tion about the status of children, as well as the implementation of this information in
5 Childhood and Intergenerationality 133
policy and practice. It explores how child indicators can be used to improve the
development and well-being of children.” Generally, ideas and discourses of child
well-being are being constructed in widely different fields, including politics,
professional communities, and media – and also academia. A proximity to
policy-making (often the result of availability of funding) may well also
limit possibilities for the research needed to complement the work done on the
measurement end of well-being studies, that is, research that aims to systematically
build up and consolidate theoretical frameworks within which particular notions of
children’s well-being would attain their conceptual power.
The study of well-being is bound to be a multidisciplinary research field, and
therefore, it is increasingly recognized that an adequate understanding of (child)
well-being will need to be interdisciplinary. This chapter aims to work toward such
a goal. It is specifically concerned with delineating the nature of child well-being as
a research object in the social sciences. Until recently, any understanding of
children and their well-being has often been based on psychological perspectives
that work with developmental notions of the individual child. The work presented in
this chapter challenges this hegemony of (mainly) psychological notions of children
and their well-being, by introducing some of the theoretical resources that have
been developed within the sociology of childhood or, more broadly, multidis-
ciplinary childhood studies (see also Jens Qvortrup’s chapter in this handbook;
▶ Chap. 22, “Sociology: Societal Structure, Development of Childhood, and the
Well-Being of Children”). The guiding vision is an understanding of children as
social beings which, once fully developed, would need to be integrated with
compatible notions originating in other disciplines (psychology, economics, biol-
ogy, neuroscience, etc.) to form an overarching framework that also works well in
the study of child well-being.
To ensure such theoretical compatibility, the set of contributions from partic-
ular disciplines would need to share some basic (philosophical, ontological,
epistemological) assumptions. Therefore, the starting point in this chapter is
a particular social ontology that helps to conceptualize childhood as
a fundamentally relational phenomenon. This relationality, moreover, implies
intergenerationality, in that children are constituted specifically as children
primarily (although not exclusively) within intergenerational relations, that is,
as a generational category of beings that is internally related to other existing
generational categories, especially adults (see below). Such an approach was
adopted early in the foundation phase of the sociology of childhood in the
1980s. While a relational sociology of childhood can be developed in more than
one direction, the specific ontology adopted in the present case gives a definite
direction in the exercise of constructing a coherent intergenerational framework
for researching childhood and children’s well-being. Arguably then, the frame-
work for an adequate study of children and childhood (and thus, by way of
derivation, children’s well-being) is necessarily intergenerational.
In the next section, a brief description is given on the forms of undertaking
childhood sociology as they have developed so far.
134 L. Alanen
5.2 Sociologies of Childhood
One of the strongly underlined assumptions in childhood studies is that children are
“social actors” and active participants that contribute to the everyday life of the
societies in which they live. Children’s long-lived invisibility in most social science
research is seen to be linked to various forms of developmental and socialization
thinking which have placed children within the processes of first becoming (and not
being) full social actors, adulthood being the assumed end point of childhood
development. The contrasting, foundational starting point given in the assumption
of children’s (social) agency implies for research that children are to be addressed
as the (sociological) equals to adults or any other social segments of individuals.
In sociology, this has been taken to imply that childhood is a structural concept
at the same analytical level as concepts such as class, gender, and “race”/ethnicity
(see Jens Qvortrup’s chapter in this handbook; ▶ Chap. 22, “Sociology: Societal
Structure, Development of Childhood, and the Well-Being of Children”).
Thus, sociologists approach childhood as a socially established and instituted
formation in its own right; it is a culturally, politically, and historically
“constructed” figuration of social relations which has been institutionalized
for the younger members of societies to inhabit. The relative permanence of such
a societal childhood, once it has been formed and established in a particular society,
justifies the idiom of a common, shared childhood, whereas “childhoods”
(in the plural) would refer to the social and cultural life worlds and experiences
of individual children within that particular social space of childhood – the
phenomenology of childhood. Therefore, to assume that there exists one true,
universal, essential childhood is to succumb to a modernist fiction. The observation
that at some point of time and place a particular form of childhood is generally
considered “normal,” and tends to prescribe how children are expected to behave
and treated, merely confirms the degree of institutionalization and the socially
gained cultural autonomy of a particular childhood construct. What has been
constructed may also be transformed, and childhood certainly has been transformed,
as evidenced by historians of childhood (e.g., Hendrick 1997; Cox 1996).
While this understanding of childhood is broadly shared within the multidis-
ciplinary childhood studies, different disciplines and research fields, such as soci-
ology, anthropology, history, economics, and cultural studies, vary in the way
they characteristically emphasize and elaborate components of the shared view.
In the early stage of the emerging sociology of childhood, three distinct approaches
could be seen developing, in other words, three different ways of carrying
out childhood sociology within a broadly shared frame. In each of them,
particular discourses and ways of conceptualizing children and childhood have
been in use; moreover, the knowledge that is sought in the research also varies
between them.
(1) A (micro-)sociology of children approach grew out of an early critique of
children’s invisibility in social science knowledge and the subsequent correction of
the then-existing research approach to include children. In the new studies, children
were placed in the center of sociological attention and studied “in their own right,”
and not as appendices or attachments to parents, families, schools, or other institu-

tions (e.g., Qvortrup 1987; Alanen 1988; James and Prout 1990). The discrimina-
tion of children in scientific knowledge would end by researchers including
children’s views, experiences, activities, relationships, and knowledges in their
data, directly and firsthand. Children were to be seen as units of research and as
social actors and participants in the everyday social world. It is thus now understood
that through their co-participation, they also contribute to events in their worlds
(including research!) and, in the end, to the reproduction and transformation of the
same social world. Research of this strand has mostly been conducted in small-scale
studies, with a focus on children’s everyday life and their “negotiations” with other
actors in their immediate social and cultural worlds. The conceptual frameworks
that are used in the micro-sociology of children tend to originate in versions of
interactionist or ethnomethodological theories, and their philosophies of science in
versions of phenomenology or pragmatism. In terms of research methods, qualita-
tive methods – in particular various modifications of ethnography and observational
methods – have been preferred. (The guidelines given to the chapter authors of this
handbook fully recognize this form of sociological childhood knowledge: Authors
are reminded that the way to best understand children’s well-being includes recog-
nizing and respecting children’s own points of view; their opinions, perspectives,
and perceptions; and their evaluations and aspirations. The handbook editors also
wish to see child well-being being promoted as a “people-centered” concept
that makes reference to their lives both in the present as well as to their
(social, developmental) future. In accordance with this view, a comprehensive
concept of child well-being would cover both children’s “well-being” and their
“well-becoming”).
The second approach, (2) a deconstructive sociology of children and childhoods,
which originated in the discussions and debates of the 1970s–1980s social sciences,
brought new insights into how the social world is to be understood and studied.
The deconstructive approach considers notions such as “child,” “children” and
“childhood,” and their many derivations (including child well-being) to be histor-
ically formed cultural constructs. Therefore, the approach underlines the political
nature of childhood constructs – that the collective (including scientific) images of
children and childhood prevailing at any time and place and beliefs of and attitudes
toward children are, in the end, politically formed. As such, they have consequences
for children’s everyday reality, as images, beliefs, and attitudes have been incor-
porated in a range of models of action, cultural practices, and, for example, welfare
policies, thereby providing cultural scripts and rationales for people to understand
and to act in relation to, and on, children and childhood. Because of the political
significance of cultural constructs, the task of the deconstructive researcher is to
“unpack” such constructions. This is done by exposing their creators and the social
circumstances of their formation, as well as the political processes of their (re-)
production, interpretation, communication, and practical implementation. The aim
is to disclose the discursive power of cultural constructs in social life, in this case in
children’s everyday life and experiences. Foucault, Deleuze, and Donzelot are
important sources of theoretical inspiration for followers of this approach.
136 L. Alanen
Useful methods for deconstruction include discourse analysis, conversation analy-

sis, and various other text analytical methods.
The third main form of sociological approaches to childhood is (3) the structural
approach. Here, childhood is taken as the unit of analysis and may be understood as
a social structure in itself. “Structure,” however, is a multi-meaning concept, and
there are a variety of ways to undertake structural analysis in sociology; what these
approaches share is a consideration given to entities and processes residing on the
“macro” level. The two main forms of structural thinking may be identified: The
structural-categorical approach is the first of them; it takes the view of children as
a socially formed aggregate, perhaps a “generation” (Mannheim; see below). Far
less attention is paid to the actual living children, each with their different and
individually experienced childhoods, which are the primary focus in the micro-
sociology of children (see above). Instead, children are assembled under the
socially established category of children, and the aim of a structurally operating
analysis is to arrive at a description of the childhood that is shared by all children in
that society (or any time/space) in question. Among sociologists of childhood,
Jens Qvortrup has strongly fostered this approach (see, e.g., Qvortrup 1993;
Qvortrup et al. 1994; and Qvortrup’s chapter in this handbook; ▶ Chap. 22,
“Sociology: Societal Structure, Development of Childhood, and the Well-Being
of Children”). Empirical observations (measurements) of focal conditions of chil-
dren’s lives – such as the patterns of their activities, experience of poverty or social
exclusion, use of time, or well-being – are linked with macro-level influential
entities and processes (macro-“variables”). These may be understood to “cause”
or impact the social category of children as a whole, by powerfully forming
a common, shared, typical childhood through large-scale processes, in interplay
with other macro-variables and linked processes. The structural-categorical
approach is especially useful in studies that aim to contribute to social reporting
and monitoring, for example, a country’s child population, and provide possible
explanations for the condition of children. While the structural-categorical
approach is well suited to large and often comparative studies of child populations
using statistical methods, this is not a limitation. Qualitative methods or “mixed
methods” are additionally useful and may contribute to the “big picture” by
providing vivid and child-level information.
In contrast to the first structural-categorical approach, the second mode of
working structurally in the sociology of childhood is one that is grounded in a
relational social ontology. Due to its employment of relational insights in conceptu-
alizing childhood, this approach is usefully called a structural-relational approach.
It is structural in that childhood is conceptualized as a position (or social space)
within an existing (socially generated) generational structure. Children are “made”
into “children” (and members of a generational category) inasmuch as they come to
occupy that social space and practically engage themselves with the reproduction of
the (generational) relations that recurrently define them as “children.” This, then, is
where relationality comes in and a different, relational conceptualization of child-
hood begins to take shape. The primary focus in research with a relational approach
is on the generational practices, specifically the (relational) practices within which
children co-construct themselves as “children” as occupiers of a particular genera-

tional position, in relation to a non-child category (or categories) of agents (see, e.g.,
Alanen 2001, 2009). The advantage in studying children’s issues relationally is
that it helps to produce a more dynamic analysis than the categorical approach.
A second advantage is that not only can the outcomes of the enacted “generationing”
processes be studied for features that children display – representing the childhood
of the time-space or individual childhoods – but also the actual processes and
relations within which those outcomes are produced. Therefore, the agency aspect
in children’s activity comes into view more prominently than in the categorical
version of structural analysis, as children are understood to be the co-constructors of
their own objective and subjective, structured, and structuring conditions. The concept
of generation as a relational social structure is an analytical construct, and childhood
(children’s positionality) is in this approach one of the (relational) components, or
parts, of a generational structure. The concept of “generational structure” refers to
a macro-entity which, in interplay with other similar relationally constructed social
structures – gender, ethnicity, class, (dis)ability, and so on – produce the events that
can be observed and understood as facets of actual childhood(s).
5.3 A Relational Ontology
By introducing relational thinking in the case of children and childhood, this

chapter advocates a social ontology and a research program for the sociology of
childhood that is consistently relational.
The terms “relational” and “relationality” are not unambiguous; their meaning and
function vary across theoretical contexts. Furthermore, relational thinking is not new
to social science, and there are several relational approaches that are actively used
within social science research. (It can be traced back to some parts of Durkheim and to
Marx. Marx wrote in Die Grundrisse (in 1857–1861): “Society does not consist of
individuals; it expresses the sum of connections and relationships in which individ-
uals find themselves” (Marx 1993, p. 77)). For example, M€utzel and Fuhse (2010)
give an account of one specific sort of relational approach – the “New York School” –
and claim that this school (together with its “transatlantic bridge building”) now
presents the most important and innovative theoretical approach in today’s sociology.
This particular branch of relational analysis has been developed out of former
modes of network analysis through an engagement with the “linguistic turn”
(Mische 2011, pp. 2–8); social networks are conceptualized and analyzed as
“sociocultural formations”. Mustafa Emirbayer, working close to the “New York
school,” published in 1997 a Manifesto for a Relational Sociology which is one of
the most quoted articles in relational theory circles and has been an inspiration in
debates on relational social theory, especially in the USA:
Sociologists today are faced with a fundamental dilemma: whether to conceive of the social
world as consisting primarily in substances or in processes, in static “things” or in dynamic,
unfolding relations. Large segments of the sociological community continue implicitly
or explicitly to prefer the former point of view. Rational-actor and norm-based
138 L. Alanen
analyses – diverse holisms and structuralisms, and statistical “variable” analyses – all of
them beholden to the idea that it is entities that come first and relations among them only
subsequently. (Emirbayer 1997, p. 281)
Alongside network analysis, relational approaches have been promoted in
science and technology studies (e.g., Actor Network Theory), in systemic sociol-
ogy (e.g., Niklas Luhmann), and in the figurational sociology of Norbert Elias.
Relational sociology has also been thriving beyond the borders of Anglophone
social science: In Italy, Pierpaolo Donati has since the 1980s labored on his
sociologia relazionale. (An introduction to his sociology is his book that has
been newly published in English (Donati 2011). See also Margaret Archer’s
introduction to Donati’s sociology: Archer (2010)). Germany (Fuhse and M€utzel
2010) and France (Vautier 2008) can also boast research groups developing their
brands of relational sociology. The Canadian-based journal Nouvelles perspec-
tives en sciences sociales: revue international de systémique complexe et d’études
relationelles published a special issue on French-Canadian relational sociology
in 2009.
Relational thinking has been developing in other human and social sciences as
well. Stetsenko (2008), for instance, writes that such classics of psychology (and
pedagogy) as Piaget, Dewey, and Vygotsky embodied strong relational thinking.
Currently, a relational ontology has been adopted and has also become quite
prominent in developmental psychology, cultural anthropology, social psychology,
and education. (For a representative of one contemporary relational psychology, see
Gergen (2009)).
Within sociology, undoubtedly the social theory of Pierre Bourdieu is the most
prominent and most developed example of relational sociology; below, the
Bourdieusian framework is introduced as an insightful platform for relational,
intergenerational childhood studies. For Bourdieu, thinking in terms of relations
instead of “substances” is paramount. It is central to his vision of sociology as
a science, and essentially all the concepts he has developed are relational
(Wacquant 1992, p. 19).
Bourdieu incessantly criticizes what he calls substantialism, or the “spontane-
ous” theory of knowledge that he sees as a key obstacle to developing genuine
scientific knowledge of the social world (Swartz 1997, p. 61). Substantialism
designates an epistemology that focuses on the realities of ordinary sense experi-
ence and “treats the properties attached to agents – occupation, age, sex, qualifica-
tions - as forces independent of the relationship within which they “act”” (Bourdieu
1984, p. 22). Moreover, substantialism is “inclined to treat the activities and
preferences specific to certain individuals or groups in a society at a certain moment
as if they were substantial properties, inscribed once and for all in a sort of
biological or cultural essence” (Bourdieu 1998, p. 4). Thus, substantialist thinking
reflects a commonsensical perception of social reality, a perception which is also
embedded in the very language we use, as it “expresses things more easily than
relations, states more readily than processes” (Bourdieu 1994, p. 189, 1998,
pp. 3–4). Therefore, it is easier to treat social facts as things or as persons than it
is to treat them as relations (Bourdieu 1994, pp. 189–190).
The methodological alternative that Bourdieu advocates and which he iden-

tifies as fundamental to all scientific thinking is relationalism (or relationism).
This is a mode of thinking that identifies the “real,” not with substances, but
with relationships, for “the stuff of social reality lies in relations” (Wacquant
1992, pp. 15–19).
It is argued here that the conceptual “tool kit” that Bourdieu developed in his
lifework is useful for re-crafting the practices of sociological childhood research
on a structural-relational basis. His relational ontology is, furthermore, consistent
with some important trends and recent developments across natural, human, and
social sciences where a systemic (i.e., structural) and at the same time emergentist
understanding of reality – both natural and social – has gained new ground. (For
the development of systemic theory in sociology and of emergentism as the most
important element of the theory’s third wave, see Sawyer (2005) and Wan
(2011)). Owing to this, by adopting a consistently relational orientation and
putting it into work in researching childhood, the field will profit from being
open toward the possibilities of interdisciplinary and cross-disciplinary collabo-
ration with a range of other disciplines and research fields, such as (relational)
psychology, economics, philosophy of mind, and others. The intergenerationality
of childhood will also be exposed as a methodological perspective, instead
of merely a substantive research object (which, moreover, tends toward
substantialism).
5.4 Childhood as a Generational Phenomenon
The structural sociologies of childhood that began to develop in the work of the
international project Childhood as a Social Phenomenon (1987–1992) were already
based on (intuitive) forms of relational thinking (see Qvortrup et al. 1994). The
concept of generation particularly was seen as the key to a new, relational under-
standing of childhood (Alanen 1994; 2009).
In the 1980s, joined by a concern for studying childhood, a loose network, and
then later, an international community of sociologists, gave rise to the term “gen-
eration,” identifying it as a key concept for establishing this new manner of thinking
in the social sciences. Jens Qvortrup (1985, 1987) was one of the first to argue the
case: In 1987, for instance, he wrote that “in industrial society the concept of
generation has acquired a broader meaning than in earlier societal formations as
‘children’ and ‘adults’ have now assumed structural attributes relative to each
other.” It was therefore useful, he wrote, “to treat ‘childhood’ and ‘adulthood’ as
structural elements in an interactive relation and childhood as a particular social
status” (Qvortrup 1987, p. 19).
In everyday discourse as well as in social science, generational relations tend to
refer to relationships between individuals who are located in different stages within
their life courses – such as adults and children – or between individuals currently
living through the same life stage “Intergenerational” in this parlance refers to the
relationships or connectedness between individuals belonging to different
140 L. Alanen
generations. In addition, other uses of “generation” exist as a range of sociological

discourses and modes of generational analysis. However, the idea of childhood
proposed by Qvortrup, as an element of social structure, called for sociological
tools that were not readily available in this literature. What was particularly missing
from the literature was a new focus on the acknowledgement and elaboration of the
fundamentally relational nature of the socially recognized categories of children
and adults.
Isolated calls had been issued for the need for relational understandings of
childhood as well as of the other generational categories with which childhood
was connected; for example, in 1982, the British scholars, John Fitz and John Hood-
Williams (1982), wrote that
If we wish to understand ‘youth’ and childhood we have to proceed not by studies of

discrete phenomena but by studies of relationships, since youth [or childhood/LA] is not
a function of age but a social category constituted in relation to, and indeed in opposition to,
the category adult (as is feminine to masculine). (Fitz and Hood-Williams 1982, p. 65)
Later in the 1980s, a structural generational perspective was adopted in the

research of the international Childhood as a Social Phenomenon project
(1987–1992), assembled and organized to study the characteristic social features
of childhood across a number of Western societies. The core idea in the project’s
approach was the dynamic social relations between generations which now were
understood as the elements (or units) of a social, generational structure.
As remarked upon above, generation is common currency in everyday speech,
used in many senses and for a variety of purposes. Children, for instance, are
frequently spoken of as being the “next generation” (of adults), or reference is
made to “the contemporary generation of children.” We also identify ourselves
and other people as members of different generations (“the ‘68 generation,’ ‘my
grandparents’ generation”) and thereby point to and make sense of both the
differences that we observe between people of different age and their interrela-
tionships, in terms of exchange, solidarity, conflict, or “gaps” in mutual
understanding. Moreover, by identifying people as members of particular gener-
ations, we locate them in historical time, such as when speaking of the “war
generation” (those adults who lived and suffered through the war years) or the
“war children.” (This refers to the tens of thousands of Finnish children who were
sent from Finland during the Second World War to a safer life in neighboring
Sweden or Denmark).
As the Greek and Latin etymologies of the word imply genealogies and succes-
sion, generations are frequently defined according to relational lines of descent
(Jaeger 1977, p. 430; Corsten 1999, p. 250). The original meaning is linked to
kinship: descent along family lineage, but the sense has been generalized to also
cover “social” descent so that people speak of, for instance, “second generation
sociologists” (Corsten 1999, p. 251). This sense of kinship relations is the one that
particularly demographers wish to reserve for generation (e.g., Kertzer 1983). This
is also the sense in which generation is used in historical research: to describe
succession in “collective history” (Jaeger 1977).
5.5 Generational Analysis: Mannheim and Beyond
Such usages of “generation” similarly circulate in sociological texts. However, in

scientific reviews of the field, Karl Mannheim is unanimously credited as the
scholar who brought “generation” into sociology in his famous essay on the
“problem of generations” (Mannheim 1952/1928). (See for example, Jaeger 1977;
Matthes 1985; Attias-Donfut 1988; Pilcher 1994; Becker 1997; Corsten 1999;
Turner 1999). Mannheim worked out his notion of generations within a sociology
of culture frame (Matthes 1985; Corsten 1999). In this view, generations needed to
be understood and investigated as cultural phenomena that were formed in specific
social and historical contexts. More specifically, Mannheim argued that generations
are formed when members of a particular age-group (or cohort) live through the
same historical and social events during their youthful years and experience them as
significant to themselves. Through this shared experience, they come to develop
a common consciousness, or identity, which can be observed particularly in the
world view and the social and political attitudes of the age-group in question. In
addition, world views and attitudes tend to persist over the life course of cohort
members, making membership in the same generation easily identifiable to the
members themselves and to others later on.
In Mannheim’s cultural sociology, generations grow out of age-groups (cohorts),
but they become identifiable generations only under specific circumstances. His
conceptualization of the formation of generations proceeds in three stages. Firstly,
people born (or “located”) in the same period of social and historical time within
a society are exposed to a specific range of social events and ideas. At this stage,
they can be identified as sharing a “generational location”; here they are only
a “potential generation,” which exists merely in the mind of the researcher, not
for the group members, who are not linked through actual relationships.
Mannheim reflects on the analogy between class and generation, noting that the
class position of an individual is a “different sort of social category, materially quite
unlike the generation but bearing a certain structural resemblance to it.” The bases
of the two positions – class and generation – naturally differ, and generation, as well
as all the further historical and social formations growing out of shared generational
positions, is ultimately seen to be based on the “biological rhythm of birth and
death” (Mannheim 1952/1928, p. 290). He then extends the analogy to class and
generational positions and sees both as “an objective fact, whether the individual in
question knows his class [generational] position or not, and whether he acknowl-
edges it or not” (Mannheim 1952/1928, p. 289). The second stage in the formation
of generations involves the development of a shared interpretation of experiences
and definition of situations among those who share a generational location:
When this takes place, the “potential generation” becomes an “actual generation” –
analogous to the development of a class “in itself” to a class “for itself.” Thirdly, in
some cases, the differentiation within “actual generations” may lead to the forma-
tion of “generational units,” characterized by face-to-face interaction among its
members and similar ways of reacting to the issues they meet as a generation
(Mannheim 1952/1928, pp. 290, 302–312; Corsten 1999, pp. 253–255).
142 L. Alanen
In summary, Mannheim conceptualizes generations as being first socially and

historically formed and then, once formed, as possibly exerting an influence on the
course of events. Thus, his aim was to propose his theory of generations as a theory of
social change, or of “intellectual evolution” (Mannheim 1952/1928, p. 281), in which
particular culturally formed groups act as collective agents and cultural bearers of
social transformation, based on the socialization of cohort members during their
formative years of youth (Becker 1997, pp. 9–10; cf. Mannheim 1952/1928,
pp. 292–308). (For criticisms directed at Mannheim’s theory, among them the assump-
tions on youth and socialization on which he relies, see Pilcher (1995, pp. 23–25)).
For decades after the publication of his seminal essay (in 1928), there was not much
treatment of the subject in sociology. Later, Mannheim’s thinking did evoke some
response but mainly from a few small subdisciplines, such as the study of youth groups
and youth cultures. Since the 1960s, developments in a few specific areas of social
research, such as social demography, life course analysis, and gerontology, have taken
a closer look at Mannheim’s theory of generations and utilized it in their research.
In this activity, scholars clarified some of the confusion found in earlier usages
(including Mannheim’s) of “generation” and developed precise distinctions and
conceptualizations useful for the empirical aims of research. These include particu-
larly the conceptual and terminological distinctions between generation, cohort, and
(individual) age (e.g., Ryder 1965; Kertzer 1983; Becker 1992; Becker and Hermkens
1993). Specific new research programs have evolved out of this activity, and space has
been made for the field of “generations research” or, more accurately, for “cohorts and
generations research” to emerge (Becker 1997).
In her book on age and generation in Britain, Pilcher (1995, pp. 22–25) presents
the similar “cohorts and social generation theory” as “one of the ways in which
sociologists have tried to explain the social significance of age”. The other four in
her book are the following: the life course perspective, functionalist perspectives,
political economy perspectives, and interpretive perspectives (Pilcher 1995,
pp. 16–30). An abundant discussion on the concept of generation and generational
issues has in recent years also been going on in German-language social science
research (and public debate); see, for example, Liebau and Wulf (1996), Ecarius
(1998), and Honig (1999). For some of the causes for this “renaissance,” see
Corsten (1999, pp. 249–250)).
Concerning the current situation, research on generations in the Mannheimian
tradition has forged for itself a secure place within (empirical) social research. In
this research, Mannheim’s original emphasis on youth as the key period for making
fresh contacts with social life and forming generational experiences has remained
strong. Sociologists of childhood may, for good reasons, question this continued
stress on youth by asking the following: Why first young people? Are not children the
obvious fresh cohort entering social life and, therefore, also capable of sharing expe-
riences in historical time and place, that is, of becoming a generation in a true
Mannheimian sense? While there has been some criticism directed at generations
research for its tendency to overlook cohorts that are living through their later years,
and their potential for generating specific generational experiences (e.g., Pilcher 1995),
a similar criticism has not been directed at the treatment of children in generations
research. One plausible explanation for this curious omission lurks in Ryder’s article
(1965, pp. 851–852) where he writes of the model of socialization and development
dominating the literature of his time. He argues that as long as life is conventionally
seen as a “movement from amorphous plasticity through mature competence towards
terminal rigidity,” young children are seen as being merely in a preparatory phase,
whereas youth (and adults) are considered participants in social life.
The more recent sociological work on childhood would object to this view and
bring forward evidence to the effect that children, too, are participants in social life,
and therefore, the Mannheimian frame is fully applicable in childhood research as
well. A rare case of this is the German research on “children war, of consumption
and of crisis” (Preuss-Lausitz et al. 1983), by a group of altogether thirteen
researchers who explore the shared experiences of three different cohorts of chil-
dren in post-World War II Germany. The research was done before the emergence
of the sociology of childhood, and the authors identified their project as being one in
“socialization history.” (This book can in fact be seen to be pioneering the sociol-
ogy of childhood in the German-language area). If the applicability of the
Mannheimian frame also in the study of childhood, then the further Mannheimian
question of “do children also form active generational groups (or units)?” can
likewise be opened to further investigation.
In summary, very little attention has been given to generational issues outside
this generations and cohorts research niche within the social science field. Nor have
issues of “age” been attended to until recently and in a few cases. In the British
context, Janet Finch (1986) describes the use of age in ways that are theoretically
informed and empirically rigorous as “relatively uncharted territory,” and Jane
Pilcher (1994) notes that “the neglect of the sociology of generations parallels the
lack of attention paid to the social significance of age.” In the 1990s, there has been
a burgeoning of theorizing and research on age, Pilcher (1994) writes, lamenting
that in this new activity there still is a lack of theorizing and research in terms of
generations – meaning theorizing and research in the Mannheimian tradition.
Harriet Bradley, too, in her book subtitled “Changing Patterns of Inequality”
(Bradley 1996), sees age as the more important “dimension of stratification” than
generation and accordingly devotes one full chapter to “Age: The Neglected
Dimension of Stratification.” Within that chapter, generation is given two pages,
mainly introducing Mannheim’s work.
There is however more to discover – and rediscover – in “generation,” by going
beyond the line of analysis that has stemmed from Mannheim’s important work.
In recent decades, many social conditions to which childhood has also been
compared – gender, class, ethnicity, and (dis)ability – have been submitted to
a critical, deconstructive gaze, by first interpreting them as social constructions
and then reconceptualizing and researching them from a number of theoretical
(post-positivist) perspectives. In feminist/gender studies, gender continues to be
discussed and analyzed and is variously theorized as a material, social, and/or
discursive structure, while naturally through the history of sociology as
a scientific discipline, (social) class provides a central concept for analyzing
and explaining social divisions and structural inequalities. Both ethnic studies and
144 L. Alanen
disability studies are more recent fields of research; they bring into focus and
redefine both “race”/ethnicity and disability as socially constructed phenomena
and seek to generate theoretical perspectives for research on these particular social
constructions of inequality and exclusion. (On discussions on this in, for example,
disability studies, see the collection edited by Corker and French (1999)).
There are good reasons to believe that in a similar manner, sociologists will
learn more about childhood as a social and specifically generational (structural)
condition by working on the notion as an analogue to class, gender, ethnicity, or
disability. The suggestion is that “generation” needs to be brought into childhood
studies and childhood needs to be brought into generational studies. Such an
approach, moreover, needs to be one that also holds to the basic premise of the
new childhood studies: children’s agency.
5.6 Childhood Relationally: Generational Order(ing)
In the final product of the Childhood as a Social Phenomenon project (Qvortrup

et al. 1994), a number of analyses were presented on the relations between children
and childhood and between childhood and adulthood. Furthermore, new concepts
were suggested to develop further the project’s idea of macro-level generational
structuring that impacts the everyday conditions, actions, and experiences of
children. The notion of a generational order was one of them (Alanen 1994; also
Alanen 1992, pp. 64–71); it was proposed as a useful analytic tool to work on and to
refine, as well as to develop into a comprehensive sociological framework.
The central idea in the notion of a generational order is that a system of social
ordering exists in modern societies that specifically pertains to children as a social
category and circumscribes for them particular social locations from which they
act, and thereby participate in ongoing social life.
As children are seen to be involved in the daily “construction” of their own and
other people’s everyday relationships and life trajectories, the notion would also
capture the idea of children as “social actors” – the idea that would become the
central idea in the sociology of children (cf. Prout and James 1990), with its
preference for ethnographic research with children, and sensitivity to children’s
subjective constructions. Thereby, the notion of a generational order could also
hold the promise of helping to transcend the theoretical and methodological divide
between structure and agency – a divide that continues to keep apart, theoretically
and methodologically, the different sociologies of children and childhood that have
emerged in the subfield. This disconnection remains even today a challenge to the
sociology of childhood.
In addition, the notion of generational order, once fully elaborated both theoret-
ically and methodologically, and put into empirical use, promises to help sociolo-
gists to understand and account for the interconnections between childhood’s many
structurations: Generational ordering can be included as one of the organizing
principles of social relations in social life, in this case – the social relations in
which children are a significant partner, in addition to and alongside the more
recognized such as social class, gender, ethnicity, and (dis)ability. Each of these
latter categories was long understood as pre-given conditions within the natural
order of things, and each of them has been submitted to critical analysis and
deconstruction. As their “socially constructed” nature has been revealed and their
long-lived “misrecognition” (Bourdieu) as natural facts undermined, new questions
on their construction, operation, and effects could be raised for study, driving
forward their reconceptualization to the point that now each of these structural
categories has a place within social theory and research, even if they also have
remained contested concepts. Furthermore, as they all operate in the same social
space, that is, “society,” their interconnections have emerged as a topic (“intersec-
tionality”) for social science research.
The major significance of the notion of a generational order then is that it gives
a name and sociological content to the processes through which the social world is
organized in terms of generational distinction: The social world is a gendered,
classed, and “raced” world, and it is also “generationed.” In the case of children,
their lives, experiences, and knowledges are not only gendered, classed, and
“raced” (and so on) but also – and most importantly for the sociological study of
childhood – generationed.
To begin to do so, “conceptual autonomy” (cf. Thorne 1987) is to be granted to
the generational segment of the social world. “Generational order” provides one
conceptual starting point and an analytical tool for framing the study of childhood
in ways that will capture the structured nature of childhood as well as children’s
active presence in generational (structuring) structures while endorsing the internal,
necessary connectedness – the relationality – of generational structures.
During the work of the Childhood as a Social Phenomenon project, the
fundamentally relational nature of generational categories – of which childhood
and adulthood were the project’s primary focus – was assumed but did not receive
special analytical attention. What the project did achieve was an argument for and
demonstration of the usefulness of collecting statistical information, using children
as units of counting and of quantitative analysis.
Compiling childhood statistics – on children’s families, their living conditions,
poverty, and other aspects – and comparing the information with data on the
other generational categories (adults), is a case of categorical generational analysis
(cf. Connell 1987). The interrelations within and between the categories are exter-
nal, or contingent, in the sense that the category is defined in terms of a number
of shared attributes, such as income, education, attitudes, and life chances, the
generational category of children being typically categorized in terms of age.
The relations between the categories may also be internal, or necessary, in the
sense that what one category is dependent on its relation to the other, and the
existence of one necessarily presupposes the other (Sayer 1992, pp. 89–90; Ollman
2003). It is this feature of internal relationality that characterizes the generational
order as it has been introduced earlier. The idea of a modern “nuclear family”
exemplifies the case of a generational structure in which the relations are also
internal: It is a system of relations, linking to each other the husband/father, the
wife/mother, and their children, all of which can be conceived as positions within
146 L. Alanen
the structured network of relations (cf. Porpora 1998, p. 343; Porpora 2002).
Internality implies that the relations of any holder of one position (such as that of
a parent) cannot exist without the other (child) position. What parenting is or
becomes – that is, action in the position of a parent in its defining relations – is
dependent on the reciprocal action taken by the holder of the position of child.
Similarly, a change of action in one position will probably effect change in the other
position. The interdependency – of positional performance as well as identity –
does not work only one way, unidirectionally, from parental position to child
position. Interestingly, the term that in the family example corresponds to the
positional performance of the holder of the child position is missing from both
everyday and sociological discourse, presumably because the culturally normative
basis for understanding the child-parent relationship tends to be one way only.
Logically, as Berry Mayall has suggested (1996, p. 49), “childing” would be the
appropriate counter term to “parenting.”
A parallel example is given by the structured system of teacher-student
positions. The case can be expanded from “micro-” to “meso-” level interrelations,
by bringing in the complexities in which the holder of a teacher position also defines
a position within a broader schooling system. The complex structure of schooling
(including even the family system) can further be seen to exist in an equally internal
relation to a particular welfare state structure, or a labor market structure, and this
in turn will be internally related to wider economic and cultural structures that
potentially extend to global (economic, cultural) structures. (It is commonly
assumed that social structures include only “big” objects, such as the international
division of labor, or the labor market, while they of course include also small ones
at the interpersonal and intrapersonal levels (Sayer 1992, p. 92)).
Thus, the generational structures that we may find to exist as truly relational
structures can be expected to be embedded in chains or networks of further
relational structures, be they generational or otherwise (e.g., class or gender
structures); the implication is that the determinations of generational structures
and positions within them (as within any social structure) are always dynamic and
complex.
The distinguishing feature, by which we may find relational social structures
in existence and the way by which to “determine” the possibilities of actual
performance of the holders of its structured positions, is interdependency. However,
as Sayer (1992, pp. 89–91) notes, the relationship need not be, and often is not,
symmetrical in both directions. The familial generational structure, for instance, is
(usually) one of asymmetry, as are the generational structure of teacher-student, and
many other structures of relations embedded in the organization of the welfare state
and the organizations of global governance.
To further expand on the notion of internal versus external relations, toward
categorical versus relational theorizing, it is instructive to think also of gender
(or gender structures) as being composed of internal relations and then relate this
idea to a concept of gender based on external relations. R. W. Connell (1987) does
this in an examination of some of the most current frameworks of gender theory.
Among them are theories that Connell called categorical (1987, pp. 54–61).
In an analysis based on categorical theorizing, the gender categories as they exist

for us – mostly men and women, or some subcategories of each – are taken as the
starting point, and the study aims at finding how the categories relate to each other
in terms of a chosen aspect, for example, life chances or resources. The problem-
atic point in categorical theorizing, Connell concludes, is that an analysis that
begins by setting a simple line of demarcation between gender positions is not able
to pay attention to the process of how the gender categories and the relations
between the categories are constituted in the first place and are subsequently
reproduced or, as it may be, transformed. The consequence is that categorical
theories of gender are forced to treat both genders in terms of internally undiffer-
entiated, homogeneous, and general categories, thereby inviting criticism of false
universalism and sometimes even of falling back on biological thinking. To resolve
this “categoricalism,” Connell advocates what he calls “practice-based” theorizing
that focuses on “what people do by way of constituting the relations they live in”
(Connell 1987, pp. 61–64).
The risk of undifferentiated treatment of category members is also evident in the
structural approach to childhood that starts from the social category of children as
their unit and demarcates this unit (mostly) on the basis of chronological age (cf.
Qvortrup 2000). Children, as well as their counterparts in the analysis (i.e., adults),
are in fact brought into the analysis as demographical age categories or sets of birth
cohorts. The translation of the “generational” into the social construct of age
moves the analysis close to cohort-based (statistical) generational analysis. In the
kind of structural approach to generational analysis that Jens Qvortrup has advo-
cated, the (contingent) relations between the categories of children and adults are
given an economic interpretation, and (macro-)economical processes are brought
into the analysis to “explain” the economic situation of the age-defined category of
children. Therefore, Qvortrup’s approach could be seen as a modification of
Weberian class analysis or, closer to the study of childhood, a modification
of Karl Mannheim’s generational analysis; only children are now shown to form
not a cultural but an economic generation in that they are shown to share a set of
economic risks and opportunities. In this view, the definition of their generational
nature – their “childness” – is based on an observable similarity or shared attribute,
or sets of them, among individual children, therefore, on more external than
internal relations.
There is also another interesting feature in category-based analyses in which the
focus is on the economic aspects of generational relations. An example is David
Oldman’s thought-provoking framing of children’s activities in the Children as
a Social Phenomenon book Childhood Matters (Oldman 1994). Oldman aims to
show how in capitalist societies the relations between the (generational) classes of
children and adults have become organized as economic relations. The suggestion
is that adults and children are social categories which exist principally by their
economic opposition to each other and in the ability of the dominant class (adults)
to exploit economically the activities of the subordinate class (children). Children,
through their various everyday activities, in fact produce value to adults who
perform “child work,” that is, work in which children are the objects of the adults’
148 L. Alanen
labor (Oldman 1994, pp. 43–47). As family is only one of many sites where this
class opposition and exploitation takes place (school being another), Oldman
concludes that there exists a distinctive generational mode of production that
articulates with two other existing modes of production: the capitalist mode that
dominates in the industrial sphere and the patriarchal mode that dominates in the
domestic sphere (Oldman 1994, pp. 55–58).
In his bold interpretation of child-adult relations, Oldman clearly confines the
generational ordering of social relations under the logic of production. Many of
the analyses that have focused on structural relations between childhood and
adulthood have followed the same idea when outlining the evolving structures of
economic relations between the two generational categories of children and
adults (e.g., Qvortrup 1995; Wintersberger 1998, 2005; Hengst 2000; Olk and
Wintersberger 2007).
In contrast, the notion of a generational order advocated above intends to provide
a frame for analysis by leaving it to empirical study to discover what actually is the
constitutive principle in the social ordering, and organizing, of child-adult relations
in each (i.e., national or institutional) case and in different social fields. In some
cases, it may be primarily economic; in the case of other structures, the cultural may
dominate. In any case, this approach enables a more dynamic conceptualization of
generational structures than seems possible if the starting point is based on gener-
ational categories.
To conclude on the basic features of an analysis of generational structures, the
aim is to be able to identify the internal relations that link children to the social
world, the (relational) positions that define “childness” in each historical time-
space, and the social (relational) practices (cf. Connell 1987) in which the positions
constitutive of “childness” are concurrently produced and maintained and –
occasionally – transformed.
To summarize the generational order, the basic principles of the social order –
that is, the ways in which members of a society relate to each other and to the whole
of their society – also include the arrangement of relations between generational
groups. In this sense, the social order is also always a generational order (e.g.,
B€uhler-Niederberger 2005, p. 9; cf. Honig 1996; 1999, p. 190).
The ideas of a generational order and processes of generational ordering already
embrace some of the basic ideas of relational thinking. In order to further develop
a relational conceptualization of childhood, a second analytical round will be taken;
we will return to the conceptual “tools” that Pierre Bourdieu developed in his
lifework based on a relational ontology.
5.7 Toward a Relational Sociology of Childhood
One of Bourdieu’s central goals in developing his theoretical approach was to assist
in overcoming sociology’s customary antinomies, such as individual versus society,
micro- versus macroanalysis, phenomenological versus structural approaches, and
subjectivism versus objectivism – antinomies that are also clearly visible in the
existing polarity between (1) micro-sociologies of children that focus their

analysis directly on children as (inter)actors in their everyday social worlds and
(2) macro-sociologies of childhood that take childhood to be an element of the
social structures or a structure in its own right. Bourdieu’s route for transcending
such polarities is to move social analysis from its more customary substantialist
mode of thinking to a relational mode. This is why Bourdieu’s work can be used as
a thinking model for bridging the gap that currently complicates theoretical and
methodological advancement in the social study of childhood.
As argued above, “generation” has been identified as a particularly useful notion
for sociologists of childhood to work with; the proposal is to approach generation
relationally and not as a property or “substance” attached to agents. The invitation
is to envision distinct socially and historically constructed sets, or “systems,” of
relations between groups or categories of people – relations that we may recognize
as specifically generational relations. As earlier remarked, relations between the
generational categories of “children” and “adults,” or “parents” and “children,” or
“teachers” and “students” present lucid examples of such relations that are inter-
nally related, in the sense that one category (such as “children”) cannot exist
without the other, and the socially constructed meaning of one category is depen-
dent on the meaning of the other category.
The following section expands on Bourdieu’s relational approach by describing
the main contours of his theory of social fields; the suggestion is to utilize it by
applying it to the study of the intergenerational encounters (family being the case),
now conceptualized as “social fields.”
5.7.1 A Sociology of Fields
Instead of affirming that the ontological priority lies with structure or with actors,
the collective or the individual, Bourdieu’s sociology affirms the primacy of social
relations (Wacquant 1992, p. 15). To think relationally means, as presented above,
to move away from “substantialist” thinking that begins from socially pre-given
categorical entities; relational thinking, in contrast, centers on the relations and
the systems of relations that generate and naturalize the observable (and often
conventional) social categories (i.e., “children”).
In sociology there is a tradition of relationalism – it was by no means Bourdieu’s
invention. Bourdieu, however, labored particularly relentlessly in order to establish
a thoroughly relational sociology, well evidenced by the fact that his key concepts
(such as field and habitus) designate “bundles of relations” (Wacquant 1992, p. 16).
Field, according to Bourdieu, should also be the primary focus of social analysis:
The notion of field reminds us that the true object of social science is not the individual,
even though one cannot construct a field if not through individuals, [. . .]. It is the field that
is primary and must be the focus of the research operations. This does not imply that
individuals are mere “illusions”, that they do not exist: they exist as agents – and not as
biological individuals, actors, or subjects – who are socially constituted as active and acting
in the field under consideration by the fact that they possess the necessary properties to be
150 L. Alanen
effective, to produce effects, in this field. And it is knowledge of the field itself in which
they evolve that allows us best to grasp the roots of their singularity, their point of view or
position (in a field) from which their particular vision of the world (and of the field itself) is
constructed. (Bourdieu and Wacquant 1992, p. 107)
What then is a field?
In analytical terms, a field may be defined as a network, or a configuration, of objective

relations between positions. [. . .] In highly differentiated societies, the social cosmos is
made up of a number of such relatively autonomous social microcosms, i.e., spaces of
objective relations that are the site of a logic and a necessity that are specific and irreducible
to those that regulate other fields. For instance, the artistic field, or the religious field, or the
economic field all follow specific logics: while the artistic field has constituted itself by
rejecting or reversing the law of material profit [. . .], the economic field has emerged,
historically, through the creation of a universe within which, as we commonly say,
“business is business”, where the enchanted relations of friendship and love are in principle
excluded. (Bourdieu and Wacquant 1992, pp. 97–98)
In his early empirical work in which he also developed his theory of practice,
Bourdieu gave field a minor place. It is in his later works that field comes increas-
ingly to replace the polysemantic concept of structure that he used in earlier texts
(Reed-Danahay 2004, p. 133). Subsequently, field gains an increasingly central
place in Bourdieu’s theoretical system. He continued to refine his conceptual tools
throughout his career in empirical studies, with the analytical weight of field
increasing as Bourdieu moved toward analyzing contemporary French society
and its structuredness into fields and as fields (Swartz 1997, p. 117).
In the 1970s and 1980s, the main focus of Bourdieu’s work was on class, culture,
and education. In these studies, “field” was made to refer to the social space in
which Bourdieu (with the help of the method of correspondence analysis) located
the actors of the social domain in question according to the volume of the economic
and cultural capital that the actors possessed. In an essay on the intellectual field
(1966), he had already developed some of the main ideas of his forthcoming theory
of fields (Lane 2000, pp. 72–73), giving the concept the analytical meaning that the
concept retained in his later, distinctly relational theory.
Bourdieu’s theory of fields may be considered to be his theory of society. While
in “archaic” societies (such as the Kabyle he studied in Algeria, in the 1960s) there
is only one field, in modern differentiated societies the number of fields grows:
They exist parallel to each other, they intersect, and there may be subfields within
larger fields. In Bourdieu’s conceptualization, modern societies are composed of
multiple domains of action – fields – that are distinct from each other. A field is
a relational historical formation: “a network, or configuration, of objective relations
between positions” (Bourdieu and Wacquant 1992, p. 125), a system of positions,
and a social “space” structured by positions. Accordingly, action (practice) taking
place in a field is understood and explained only by identifying the agents –
individuals and institutions – currently active in the field, the structure of relations
that differentiate (and connect) them, and the “game” that is taking place among the
actors, the “game” being struggles about control of the resources (capitals) that are
valued and held legitimate in the field. Each field has its own rules, or logic, and
therefore, the game and rules of one field are different from the games and rules of
other fields. What fields do share is their (homologous) structure: All fields are
structured by relations of dominance. This applies also to the family which can be
described in field-analytical terms. As fields are dynamic formations, they have their
birth (genesis) and developmental history, and the “game” played in a field may
remain even after the field disappears. In addition, the relations of influence between
fields vary; therefore, fields might subsequently vary in their degree of autonomy.
Bourdieu’s probably best-known analysis of fields concerns the field of cultural
production (the production of arts and literature) in France. Bourdieu
(1993) explained how this area first struggled into an autonomous position in
relation to the “heteronomous” forces of economy, politics, and the state. The
analysis was focused particularly on the struggles of nineteenth-century painters
and writers (Manet, Flaubert, Baudelaire) for freedom from the structural domi-
nance of, first, the court and the church, then of the salons, and, finally, of the
Academy of France. Once autonomy was successfully fought for and gained for
the field of cultural production, space was assured for the artists’ own game. The
development of this field took place in three stages: First, it was born by way of
separating itself from dominance by other fields already in existence. The move
from a state of heteronomy to that of autonomy marked the arrival of the second
stage in which the avant-garde guaranteed the field autonomy. However, the
accomplishment of autonomy was simultaneously the beginning of internal differ-
entiation, as the struggles within the field were reorganized by actors that in the new
state of autonomy developed new logics (strategies) of action. The third stage in the
development of a field is thus marked by diminishing autonomy. In Bourdieu’s
example of cultural production in nineteenth-century France, the field of economy
was expanding its influence on cultural production. The market for art objects was
born, relying on a new logic, and the field moved back to a state of heteronomy,
albeit of a qualitatively different kind from the earlier stage of heteronomy.
Many of the fields that Bourdieu himself studied are cultural spaces, such as art,
literature, religion, justice, education, university, and journalism, all of which are
well-institutionalized social domains, with a fairly large degree of autonomy –
although they also constantly need to struggle to keep this autonomy. Most of
the research on fields by other scholars has also focused on well-established,
institutionalized, and “public” arenas, such as the media, higher education,
economic policy, the world of academic research, or public welfare services.
Much less attention has been focused on “private” domains, such as the household
or family, or on informally organized or voluntary relations (peer relations,
friendship). Can these also be understood as fields?
A second question concerns who or what qualifies as an agent in a specific field.
Agents exist “not as a biological individuals, actors, or subjects, but as agents who
are socially constituted as active and acting in the field under consideration by the
fact that they possess the necessary properties to be effective, to produce effects, in
this field” (Bourdieu and Wacquant 1992, p. 107).
This qualification will not exhaust the whole range of “actors” that sociologists
(including sociologists of childhood) commonly think of and treat as social actors.
152 L. Alanen
Bernard Lahire (2001, pp. 32–37) follows Bourdieu in his contention that the
existence of a field presupposes illusion, that is, that there exist a sufficient number
of participants that actually invest in the struggles (“games”) of the field and keep
up the game – these are “agents” in the Bourdieusian sense:
In empirical work, it is one and the same thing to determine what the field is, where its
limits lie, etc., and to determine what species of capital are active in it, within what limits,
and so on. (Bourdieu and Wacquant 1992, pp. 98–99)
The systemic nature of Bourdieu’s theory implies that all of the concepts of his
relational theoretical universe have a role to play in recognizing/reconstructing
a field. (See Lahire (2001, pp. 24–26) for a meticulously compiled list of altogether
13 characteristics by which to recognize and analytically construct a Bourdieusian
field). But how and where to start the study of a field? Where to start especially
when the object of concern is the everyday world of ordinary people – children and
adults – instead of such wide institutionalized worlds of action as government,
university, church, or media world?
The institutional aspects in the action of individuals and groups are significant
issues to focus on in a field analysis, but a field is not identical to an institution
(Swartz 1997, pp. 120–121). A field may be in fact located within an institution or it
may reach across two (or more) institutions; the institution may also be one of the
positions in a field. Moreover, a field may be emerging in which the practices are
not yet strongly institutionalized. The most distinctive differentiating feature of a
field from an institution is that the concept a field underlines is by nature conflictual
(Swartz 1997). This is a clear distinction from the (functionalist, consensus-based)
understanding of an institution.
Bourdieu himself identifies three internally connected moments in a field anal-
ysis (Bourdieu and Wacquant 1992, p. 104). First, one must analyze the position of
the field in relation to the field of power and, next, the objective structure of the
positions held by actors or institutions that compete for the legitimate form of
capital specific to the field. The field of power “is not situated on the same level as
other fields (the literary, economic, scientific, state bureaucratic, etc.) since it
encompasses them in part. It should be thought of more as a kind of ‘meta-field’
with a number of emergent and specific properties” (Wacquant 1992, p. 18).
Finally, the habitus of the actors need to be studied. Habitus together with the
concepts of field and capital form Bourdieu’s principal conceptual triad. Habitus is
a durable and transposable system of schemata of perception, appreciation,
and action; habitus “focuses on our ways of acting, feeling, thinking and being,
it captures how we carry within us history, how we bring this history into our
present circumstances, and how we then make choices to act in certain ways and not
with others” (Maton 2008, p. 52). It is the construct of habitus with which Bourdieu
intends to transcend the series of deep-seated dichotomies such as subjectivism-
objectivism and structure-agency, among others. However, as the concept of field
does not offer any ready-made answers, fields need to be constructed case by case
(Maton 2008, p. 139). (For a detailed account of the three analytical stages for
constructing a field as an object of study, see Alanen (2007)).
5.7.2 A Case of Generational Ordering: Family as a Social Field
The significance of family in Bourdieu’s theorizing and in his studies (especially

Bourdieu and Passeron 1977; Bourdieu 1984) stems from his interest in under-
standing the social mechanisms by which social inequalities are reproduced. In
modern societies, family, alongside education, is a central reproductive mechanism.
Family, therefore, appears in Bourdieu’s theorizing in several contexts: Family
appears as a field; it may also be a component of habitus; family may also provide
the members of a family group with resources – social capital – that they can
convert into other forms of capital in their exchanges in other fields, thereby helping
them to function effectively in the games of other fields. Lastly, the family can be
understood as a form of practice. Next, only an outline of family as a field is
presented.
A sociologist will without difficulty recognize and analyze any family, or a large
group of kin, as a “field” of interactions taking place between family members.
Bourdieu, however, is adamant in asserting that family should not be identified as
a domain of everyday domestic interactions. Within his relational theorizing, it is
important to notice that the family
tends to function as a field, with its physical, economic and above all symbolic power
relations (linked, for example, to the volume and structure of the capital possessed by each
member), and its struggles to hold on to and transform these power relations. (Bourdieu
1998, pp. 68–69; also 1996, p. 22; Bourdieu and Passeron 1977, p. 18)
To perceive family as a social body within which members struggle or compete

with each other goes utterly against contemporary and conventional thinking.
B€uchner and Brake (2006, pp. 25–26), in their study on the intergenerational
transmission of cultural capital, are among the few researchers that make this
point. Following Bourdieu, they note that we tend to be attached to an (idealized)
picture of family in which emotional closeness and relations of trust and confidence
take a central place, and the intrinsic purpose of family is to create an emotional
counterbalance to the harsh competition and obligations to perform outside family.
This idea as well as the idea of society being divided into a “public” and a “private”
sphere and of family as the center of the latter has been asserted by numerous
sociologists (since at least Talcott Parsons). This vision of the family as a domain
separates from the public domain of the economy and the state and, following
a specific logic of its own, is reinforced by the division of society into families
(Bourdieu 1998, p. 66). Both the vision and the division are, of course, historical
constructs, although commonly experienced as being “natural” (see below).
In contrast, it is Bourdieu’s claim that in its modern representation the family
should be approached as “only a word, a mere verbal construct,” or “paper family”
(Bourdieu 1998, p. 65). Nevertheless, it is also a “well-founded fiction” and an
“active word” in that it is a collective principle of construction, perception, and
categorization of collective reality (Bourdieu 1998, p. 66; Lenoir 1992, 2008)
“Family,” then, is an instrument of construction of reality that exists “both in the
objectivity of the world, in the form of elementary social bodies that we call
154 L. Alanen
families, and in people’s minds, in the form of principles of classification that are
implemented both by ordinary agents and by the licensed operators of official
classifications, such as state statisticians” (Bourdieu 1998, p. 71). The state, then,
is the main agent of the construction of the official categories through which
both populations and minds are structured (Bourdieu 1998, 1996, pp. 24–25;
Lenoir 2008, pp. 39–40). Therefore, in a society that is divided into family groups
(such as contemporary Western industrialized societies), the family is not
just a subjective idea, a mental and cognitive category, it is also an objective social
category. Thus, as such it is in fact the basis of the family as a subjective social
category – the mental category which is “the matrix of countless representations
and actions (such as marriages) which help to reproduce the objective
social category. The circle is that of reproduction of the social order” (Bourdieu
1998, p. 67), and
[t]he near-perfect match that is then set up between the subjective and objective categories
provides the foundation for an experience of the world as self-evident, taken for granted.
And nothing seems more natural than the family; this arbitrary social construct seems to
belong on the side of nature, the natural and the universal. (Bourdieu 1998)
The circle of reproduction of the social order leads us to regard the family as
(falsely) natural, by presenting itself with the self-evidence of what “has always
been that way,” although – as historical family research has amply shown – it is
a fairly recent social invention (Bourdieu 1998, p. 64). The immediate congruence
between the subjective, mental structures and the objective structures of the family
is historically constructed, and the family is thus the product of countless acts of
institutionalization (Bourdieu 1998, pp. 67–69).
Remi Lenoir (1991, 1992, 2003) has extensively analyzed this historical process
of the birth and development – the long durée – of the family field in France, as it
has appeared in the growth of family thinking (“familialism”) in state policy, and
the resulting institutionalization of the family in and through, for example, civil law
and family policy. According to his analysis, “the family” has been (re)constructed
at the intersection of several social fields (such as politics, law, religion, and
medicine) within the struggles between concerned agents in these fields, each
striving to establish from their positions in the respective field, as well as in the
emerging family field, the “functions” that were to be left to “the family” to take
care of. In Western Europe, according to Lenoir’s analysis, the genesis of the family
field started at some point in the twelfth century and followed much of the
same general pattern as various other social fields analyzed by Bourdieu and his
colleagues: by fighting for its autonomy from the church and the state, most clearly
by the dominant economic classes of the time. The field of religion (in which the
church of course was the most powerful agent) and the field of the state (with its
growth of an apparatus of governance) continue even today to be the most powerful
fields that presently affect the development of the family field. Dandurand and
Ouellette (1995) present a similar analysis of the emergence and structuration of the
family field in Canada. Whether the family field has, and to which degree, achieved
in Western societies a state of autonomy is an open question. Scientific work to
construct “a social history of the process of state institutionalization of the family”

(Bourdieu 1998, p. 72) will be needed to provide answers which undoubtedly are
conditional on the developments of nation-states.
However, as was presented earlier, the perpetuation of the family as both an
objective and subjective category does not only depend on the constant work of
institutionalization by a range of agents active in the emerging family (macro-)field.
Indeed, the practical and symbolic work of creating (and recreating) “the family” is
also required on the mundane everyday level within the family groups (actual
families) themselves as well as between them. It is this practical and symbolic
work that
transforms the obligation to love into a loving disposition and tends to endow each member
of the family with a ‘family feeling’ that generates devotion, generosity, and solidarity.
(Bourdieu 1998, p. 68)
This “family feeling” – which is “a cognitive principle of vision and division that
is at the same time an affective principle of cohesion” (Bourdieu 1998, p. 68) –
needs to be continuously created to function as the basis for the adhesion that is vital
to the existence of the family group in the broader family field. The “obliged
affections and affective obligations of family feeling (conjugal love, paternal and
maternal love, filial love, brotherly and sisterly love, etc.)” enter, for their part, into
the construction of (“real”) families. The implication is that a society divided into
families tends to constitute in its members a specific mental structure, or family
habitus (Bourdieu 1998, pp. 66–67; Lenoir 2008, p. 34). The daily work that goes
into creating and recreating “the family” – the subjective and mental category – and
the division of society into family groups can be studied as sets of relational
practices of familialization (family making). The fact that “everyone believes to
know what the family is” confirms the success of the social work (Durkheim)
(consisting of both the “private” work of families and the “public” work of state
and other agents) that has been implemented in constructing the institution of the
family, which is also manifest on the level of public discourses mobilized to support
the vision of a thoroughly familialized world (Lenoir 1991, pp. 781–782).
Thus, when considered as a social field, the family is a space structured by
positions that are defined in and by the struggles and the specific interests mobilized
in these struggles by a broad ensemble of agents, groups, and institutions, often
following divergent logics (Dandurand and Ouellette 1995, p. 104; Lenoir 2003;
2008). It is worth pointing out that family as a social field does not only refer to the
broad societal (macro-)space studied by, for example, Lenoir and Dandurand and
Ouellette; on the contrary, Bourdieu (1998, pp. 68–69) reminds us that any family
group (which may be understood as a subfield of the broader family field) also
“tends to function as a field, with their physical, economic and, above all, symbolic
power relations” (linked, e.g., to the volume and structure of the capital possessed
by each member), “and its struggles to hold on to and transform these power
relations.” The key struggles (or the “game”) in the broad family field concern
what defines “the family” or, in Bourdieu’s terms, the species of capital specific to
the family and who are well positioned to define it and have their definition accepted
156 L. Alanen
as legitimate. Yet, this structure is always at stake in the struggles within the family
field; therefore, there is never any guarantee of there being unanimity at any time on
what the legitimate representation of “the family” is or should be.
Bourdieu points clearly to what the family’s specific capital may consist of
when he writes on the socially arbitrary but naturalized “family,” in contemporary
societies:
In order for this reality called “family” to be possible, certain social conditions that are in no
way universal have to be fulfilled. They are, in any case, by no means uniformly distributed.
In short, the family in its legitimate definition is a privilege instituted into a universal norm:
de facto privilege that implies a symbolic privilege – the privilege of comme il faut,
conforming to the norm, and therefore enjoying a symbolic profit of normality [emphasis
by LA]. Those who have the privilege of having a “normal” family are able to demand the
same of everyone without having to raise the question of the conditions (a certain income,
living space, etc.) of universal access to what they demand universally. . . . This privilege is,
in reality, one of the major conditions of the accumulation and transmission of economic,
cultural and symbolic privileges. (Bourdieu 1998, p. 69)
The so-called “nuclear” family is the prototypical normal family at the core of
family practices in the contemporary world (Uhlmann 2006, p. 9); it acts as
a realized category by being both a model of reality (in the sense that it reflects
the general practice) and a model for reality, meaning that it becomes a prescription
that members of society follow. As a realized category, the nuclear family forms
“a ‘gestalt’ which incorporates many specific cognitive models, such as the division
of labour within the family group, the convergence of social and biological parent-
hood, and the dependency of children on parents” (Uhlmann 2006, pp. 46–47).
These are some of the doxic aspects of the family which are taken for granted and
commonly experienced as universal. The concept of doxa broadly refers to the
misrecognition of forms of social arbitrariness that engenders the unformulated,
nondiscursive, but internalized and practical recognition of that same social
arbitrariness. It contributes to its reproduction in social institutions, structures,
and relations as well as in minds and bodies, expectations, and behavior
(Deer 2008, p. 119). Moreover, the transparency of normalcy, that is, the fact that
the family passes unnoticed and remains uninterrogated by public opinion, is – as
Bourdieu (see above) has pointed out – part of the privileged position it
has acquired: “the right to question and not to be questioned, the authority to
contemplate others but not to be contemplated” (Uhlmann 2006, p. 47). Therefore,
“having a normal family” has the potentiality of being a privilege that has the
status of being for their possessors valuable cultural capital and, moreover,
symbolic capital.
This chapter has sought to clear some conceptual ground for developing a
relational sociology of childhood. The discussion arose from the idea that childhood
is a fundamentally relational phenomenon and that, therefore, the study of children
and childhood, and the circumstances of children’s lives, necessitates a social
ontology that is consistently relational. The movement within childhood studies
toward a relational conceptualization of children and childhood has been described,
as well as the advance of relational sociologies elsewhere, exemplified by Pierre
Bourdieu’s field theory. These developments additionally provide conceptual and

methodological tools for developing a reasoned conception of intergenerationality
as well as an ontologically and epistemologically secured foundation for
intergenerational studies.
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Section II
Multiple Approaches to Child Well-Being
Child Well-Being: A Philosophical
Perspective 6
Alexander Bagattini
6.1 Introduction
The concept of children’s well-being is frequently used both in the public debate
and in discussions in a wide variety of legal, political, medical, educational, and
familial contexts. There is broad consensus that the well-being of children matters
greatly and that it deserves special promotion and protection. Yet, the concept of
child well-being is highly contested. Theorists and practitioners often disagree
about what child well-being consists of, about how it is promoted, and about its
importance in relation to other goods and moral claims. Disputes about the nature of
children’s well-being arise in part because there are many different disciplinary
perspectives from which to approach the concept. In medicine, for example, we
sometimes find a narrow, health-related concept of the well-being of children.
Medicine as an empirical science tends to emphasize the biological dimensions
of the physical and psychological well-being of children. In relation to proper
biological functioning, well-being is rather considered the absence of disease or
impairments of normal capacities. By contrast, when it comes to an analysis of
children’s well-being, the social sciences and psychology often focus on objective
economic (e.g., levels of poverty), educational (e.g., test scores), and social factors
(e.g., family structure and divorce rates). Others worry that a focus on the material
dimensions of well-being comes at the expense of proper recognition of the spiritual
well-being of children. These diverse perspectives are not necessarily inconsistent.
But a narrow focus on one perspective can generate controversies. For example,
if the well-being of children is treated just as a physical and psychological
phenomenon, social factors that influence well-being, such as family structures
or peer pressure, are easily overlooked. This can result in a rash medicalization of
problems as it is illustrated by the alarming propensity of treating hyperactivity
A. Bagattini
Philosophisches Institut, Universit€at D€
usseldorf, D€
usseldorf, Germany

164 A. Bagattini
with children mainly by prescribing powerful drugs such as Ritalin. Thus, one
general challenge is to determine how different facets of well-being should be
integrated in a balanced, comprehensive, and practical account of well-being that
can help guide decisions concerning children. Philosophy can contribute to this task
by posing some relevant questions and analyzing several basic concepts.
As philosophy is a very diverse discipline, the following presentation will focus
on ethical aspects only (rather than, e.g., issues from the philosophy of mind).
This chapter will have three principal sections, each of which addresses different
clusters of issues. The progression is roughly from an analysis of fundamental
general problems to an examination of problems in various specific practical
settings. Section 6.2 considers the nature of childhood as a normatively distinct
period of human development and how features of childhood affect the moral status
and claims of children. Section 6.3 considers substantive accounts of the well-being
of children and how different facets of well-being can be interpreted, integrated, or
balanced. Section 6.4 takes up problems that involve the application of ideas
about the well-being of children in concrete situations in medicine, education,
and family law.
6.2 The Nature of Childhood
In order to properly address questions concerning the nature and application of

child well-being, it is helpful to consider the nature of childhood itself. A number
of issues arise here. I will put them into four broad categories:
• Childhood and the normative status of children
• Children and paternalism
• What distinguishes children from adults? – the threshold problem
• Children’s rights
The normative status of the child, as we know it today, is a quite recent
invention. Today children are seen as persons and not, as a few centuries or
maybe even decades ago, as the property of their parents. However, if children
are persons, then (at least from a philosophical point of view) paternalism toward
children has to be justified. This leads, in turn, to the threshold problem (concerning
how to properly distinguish children from adults) and to tricky questions
concerning children’s rights. Clarifying the normative status of children is an
important prerequisite for posing sensible questions concerning the well-being of
children. This is the task of this section.
6.2.1 Childhood and the Normative Status of Children
In his higly influential book Centuries of Childhood (1962), the historian Philippe
Ariès claims that the idea of childhood did not exist until the Renaissance. Ariès
asserts that
6 Child Well-Being: A Philosophical Perspective 165
[in] medieval society the idea of childhood did not exist [. . .]. The idea of childhood is not
to be confused with affection for children: it corresponds to an awareness of the particular
nature of childhood, that particular nature which distinguishes the child from the adult, even
the young adult. In medieval society, this awareness was lacking. (Ariés 1962, p. 125, cit. in
Archard 2004, p. 19f.)
It is important to note that Ariès speaks of the idea of childhood and not of
childhood per se. Of course people in medieval society recognized the fragility of
their children, and of course they cared (or at least tried to care) for them. What
medieval society lacked was rather the idea, the concept of childhood by which
adults and children are properly distinguished. Ariès justifies his thesis by giving
different reasons: In medieval society, children played the same games as adults,
they were not protected from the sexually explicit language of adults, they were
dressed like adults, they had to do (at least partly) the same work as adults,
etc. From this, he infers that medieval society lacked the ability to distinguish
children from adults. This thesis of Ariès has been contested in many ways, and this
is not the proper place to deal with this critique (Hendrick 1992). Instead, we should
take account for the merits of Ariès’ work and assume a weaker version of his
thesis that seems to be more defensible: Today, we distinguish children and adults
in a specific sense that was unknown to medieval society.
This means in the first place that these days we recognize what David Archard
calls the separatedness of children (Archard 2004). In medieval society, people
might have recognized that children are more vulnerable, smaller, less reliable, etc.,
than adults. That is, they had an awareness of certain facts about children that made
them different from adults. What medieval society lacked was rather a specific
normative perspective on childhood. When Ariès is talking about a lacking aware-
ness of the nature of childhood, he is pointing at this lacking normative perspective
on childhood. In our days, we think of children as inhabitants of their own world
that is in many ways different from the world of adults. We think that children must
not do the work of adults, that they have the right to develop in certain ways, and
that they have to be protected against the sexually explicit and violent aspects of the
adult world, etc. This is what can be called the modern conception of childhood
(Archard 2004).
The modern conception of childhood was theoretically founded by Rousseau in
his Emile (Rousseau 1979) and has found one of its most rigid formulations in Ellen
Key’s groundbreaking work The Century of the Child (Key 1909). The basic claim
of the modern conception of childhood is twofold. It says, firstly, that children are
persons. This means that children have rights and that adults have obligations
toward them. It says, secondly, that children are persons that have a specific
normative status. Being a person means having a normative status. What is specific
about the normative status of children correlates with their alleged separatedness.
Children are not only seen as “inhabitants” of their own world. Rather, this world is
seen as substantially in need of development whose ends have to be given by the
alleged “expert knowledge” of adults. This assumption gets further support by the
work of developmental psychologists like Jean Piaget or Lawrence Kohlberg who
166 A. Bagattini
claimed that childhood is an early stage in the life of a person that should lead to
autonomy and full cognitive abilities as an adult person. (The relevance of devel-
opmental psychology for questions concerning children’s well-being will be
addressed in more detail in Sect. 6.3.) In the light of this, the alleged separatedness
of children has two aspects: First, children are under the special protection of adult
persons, and second, children are not (fully) responsible for their well-being.
Yet, the separatedness thesis is far from being clear. First, it can be interpreted in
a more or less demanding sense. Is there room, for example, for treating childhood
as a period in the life of a person with its own intrinsic values? Or is childhood
rather in a stark sense defined as the absence of adulthood? Second, which norma-
tive implications can be inferred from the alleged separatedness of children?
No one denies that children need special protection. It is, however, a very different
thing to claim that children have a different normative status than adults, for
example, that children have other rights than adults. In the light of these difficulties,
it makes sense to have a closer look at criteria by which paternalism toward children
could be justified, at what distinguishes adults and children and at in which sense
there can be specific children’s rights.
6.2.2 Children and Paternalism
Imagine the following situation: It is winter and deadly cold outside. Your child,
however, is not willing to put his/her cap on. Would you make your child wear the
cap? Or would you rather say: Well, if he/she gets ill, it is his/her own fault? Most of
us would intuitively prefer the first option. That is, most of us believe paternalism
toward children to be legitimate. From a philosophical perspective, however,
paternalism is always in need of justification. No one would, of course, seriously
doubt that children need special protection. But this claim is categorically different
from the normative claim that parents have the right or authority to make decisions
for their children. The problem here is, simply put, that children are persons, which
in turn means that they have moral and legal rights. If we take this aspect seriously,
we cannot assume by default that paternalism toward children is morally justified.
In other words, paternalism toward children is in need of justification.
Let us first have a closer look at the very concept of paternalism. Paternalism is
the view that the state or a person A interferes with another person B against B’s
will, whereby the state or A have to be motivated by the aim that B will be better off
than without the paternalistic action (Dworkin 1972, 2005). The background
assumption here is that the person acting paternalistically is more competent
concerning the well-being of the paternalized person than him/herself and acts in
his/her best interest. Nonetheless, there is a problem here. Even if others intend to
act in our best interest, sometimes we do not want them to. Think about Mill’s
example of a person trying to cross a damaged bridge (Mill 1859). Should we
forcibly prevent the person from doing so? In some cases, the answer is clearly: yes.
For example, if the person is blind and cannot read the warning sign. Other cases,
however, might be not so clear. What if the person intends to commit suicide?
Or maybe he/she is an adrenaline junky and very experienced with dangerous

objects like damaged bridges.
Mill’s example helps us to see the heterogeneous intuitions concerning the concept
of paternalism. However, even if there are cases where we might see no moral problem
with paternalizing people, in the default case, paternalism is ruled out. That means, it is
always in need of justification. Good reasons in this respect would be that the judgment
of the paternalized person might be blurred by drugs or his/her mental condition or that
some external factors, like brainwashing or threats, make him/her commit a dangerous
action. Bad reasons are that the paternalized person belongs to a certain ethnic or
religious group or that he/she belongs to a certain sex. (In this context, Peter Singer
uses the metaphor of an increasing circle of equality (Singer 1981). After race,
religion, and sex, even humanity itself is (for animal liberationists) at stake as
a criterion for excluding a group from having equal rights.) This is the heritage of
the liberal tradition of Locke, Kant, and Rousseau to which Mill belongs as well.
Contrary to ancient and medieval philosophers, those later writers see freedom as an
intrinsic value of the good life that has to be granted to every member of society. What
reasons can there be to exclude children from this group of equal persons?
According to Francis Schrag, there are no such reasons (Schrag 1977). He begins
his argument with a fictional piece of early ethnographic history: When the seven-
teenth century explorer Sicnarf Garhcs discovered the society of the Namuh, he made
a remarkable discovery. The Namuh where separated into two groups, the Tluda and
the Dlihc (It makes sense to spell all words the other way around.) While the former
where strong and knowledgeable about the world, the latter where weak and ignorant.
Furthermore, the Tluda offered protection to the Dlihcs, while the latter had to follow
the rules of the former. The social system of the Namuh reflected a strong paternal-
istic hierarchy that, according to Schrag, can be compared to the situation of children
today. Schrag’s point is straightforward: While we would intuitively see the social
hierarchy of the Namuh as unjust, we do not think the same about our discrimination
of children. And this seems to be inconsistent (presupposing that the strong structural
analogy assumed by Schrag actually holds).
In the light of this reflection, Schrag asks for reasons for paternalizing children.
He firstly claims that those reasons have to be qualitative and not just quantitative
reasons (ruling out the possibility that children can be legitimately paternalized just
because they are less rational or less knowledgeable than adults). He then examines
different qualitative reasons for distinguishing children and adults in a normatively
relevant way: cognitive abilities, sexual maturity, rationality, and self-sufficiency.
According to Schrag, however, none of these can justify paternalism toward
children. Cognitive abilities come, for example, by degree; some children,
however, are provided with them more than some much older adults. Why should
we assume that a teenager is less competent of caring for his/her well-being than,
for example, a 30-year-old person? Such reasons will be examined in more detail in
the next section. Especially the concept of self-sufficiency has been explored in
much depth and raises the question if Schrag’s conclusion actually holds. In a direct
response to Schrag, Geoffrey Scarre argues from a utilitarian perspective that
happiness but not freedom is an intrinsic value of the good life (Scarre 1980).
168 A. Bagattini
This can help to justify paternalism toward children insofar as we then could claim
that children often do not know what is constitutive for their happiness and (more
important for the utilitarian) for overall happiness in society. Scarre’s argument is,
however, only convincing for utilitarians. Furthermore, Schrag could bring in his
worry even in a utilitarian framework. He would have to claim that assuming that
children are not able to care for their happiness or for the happiness of the greatest
number (at least in a similar way than most adults do) is just arbitrary.
It seems that an answer to the question of the legitimacy of paternalism toward
children requires us to first develop a proper definition of the concept of child.
That is, we have to ask by which criteria children and adults can be properly
distinguished. This is often called the threshold problem.
6.2.3 What Distinguishes Children from Adults?: The Threshold

Problem
The modern conception of childhood classifies children as normatively different

from adult human beings. This point is usually expressed by referring to the
principle of autonomy. Adults are treated as persons with (full) autonomy rights.
That is, adults are treated as legitimately caring for their own well-being. Contrary
to that, children are not treated as autonomous persons. That is, they are treated as
persons that can legitimately be patronized by adults. By which criteria can we,
however, properly distinguish children and adults?
Two common criteria are age and competence. Age-based accounts treat the
age of a person as the decisive criterion for determining the threshold between
child- and adulthood. Age gives us a very clear and practicable criterion even
if the respective age for granting autonomy to a person might be controversial
(. . ., 16, 18, . . .). However, age seems to be an arbitrary criterion if we compare the
competence of different individuals. Why should we assume that a 30-year-old
person is better at caring for his/her interests than, say, a 16-year-old person? In the
light of this, competence-based accounts hold that autonomy comes with actual
competences (cognitive capacities, emotional stability, future-oriented planning,
etc.) that have to be tested in each individual case. There are, however, two
convincing objections to the competence-based account: First, it does not look
practicable. As Feinberg (1986) remarks, the law would not work without dividing
standard persons. (Another way to put this is saying that justice consists of a system
of norms that may conflict with the interests of individual persons.) Second, does
not using age as a criterion undermine the very idea of the liberal state? If we want
to avoid arbitrary paternalism toward adults, a clear threshold for granting auton-
omy rights must be fixed. Competence alone cannot provide such a clear threshold.
Choosing between the age-based and the competence-based account seems to be
a very unpalatable situation. In the light of this, some authors speak of a tragic
choice between age and competence as a criterion for distinguishing adults and
children (Schrag 1977) or of a demarcation dilemma (Anderson and Claassen
2012). The dilemma is that we have to somehow decide between the pragmatic
problems rising from a competence-based theory and the moral inacceptability of

discrimination against children that a pure age-based view leads to (Anderson and
Claassen 2012). One possible way out of the dilemma would be to claim that there
is a categorical difference between adults and children (that is rejecting – as the
competence-based account does – that it is a difference in degree) without claiming
that age alone makes up for this difference (as the age-based account does).
Tamar Schapiro argues that children are like what Kant calls “passive citizens”
(Schapiro 1999). The basic idea is that children are incapacitated because they lack
what can be called self-constitution. In other words, children have no autonomy or
authority over their lives because they lack a necessary condition for that. “[T]he
condition of childhood is one in which the agent is not yet in a position to speak in
her own voice because there is no voice which counts as hers” (Schapiro 1999,
p. 729). However, children have thoughts and make their own decisions. Schapiro
tries to explain this fact by introducing the concept of play. According to Schapiro,
children try to be individuals in the world of plays. This allows them to “try out”
different roles to find their place within this world. This, however, does not solve
the threshold problem. This is because we do not treat teenagers and toddlers alike
just because both are playing. To overcome this, Schapiro distinguishes proficiency
and attributability, the former meaning that children have the ability to make good
choices, while the latter means that the choices of a person are his/her own
(Schapiro 1999, 2003). The threshold for the categorical distinction between
children and adults is, according to Schapiro, expressed in terms of attributability.
Attributability makes implicit assumptions about proficiency. Children are, for
example, not allowed to drive a car, because we do not believe them to be able to
do so. But this is part of our “practice” of not attributing the freedom of driving cars
to children. That some children might be able to drive a car does not question this
practice. The alleged lack of attributability justifies, in Schapiro’s eyes, the strong
categorical threshold between adults and children and, by the same token, paternalism
toward children. Schapiro’s account is very influential. It has, however, been
criticized in many ways. First, it is not clear that Schapiro’s concept of attributability
effectively circumvents the dilemma between age and competence. This is because
one can ask for the justification of the criteria by which we attribute certain freedoms
to children – that is, one may ask if age or competence enters through the back door
(Anderson and Claassen 2012). Second, Schapiro’s account does not allow for
a distinction between teenagers and smaller children. Especially, in the case of
teenagers, we may ask if a strong threshold between them and adults really holds
(Archard 2004).
6.2.4 Children’s Rights
The question of children’s rights is highly dependent on the underlying conception

of childhood. If we claim that children are categorically different from adults, we
implicitly endorse that children have specific rights. On the other hand, if we claim
that the difference between children and adults is just a difference in degree, we not
170 A. Bagattini
necessarily have to believe in specific children’s rights. There are, in fact, authors,
so-called child liberationists, who argue for the latter option. Before addressing
their arguments, let us first ask from a more general perspective what children’s
rights can look like.
In the first place, we have to distinguish between moral and legal rights. Legal
rights are protected by the state’s legal system, whereas having a moral right does
not necessarily mean that one has a correlating legal right. On the other hand, not
every legal right has to be morally justified. Yet, the distinction between moral and
legal rights is not a clinical one. Consider, for example, the UN Convention on the
Right of the Child (www.unicef.org/crc). In order to safeguard children’s rights on
a global scale, the UN have provided a list of children’s rights. Those rights have
been ratified by the UN General Assembly. That means that they are implemented
as legal rights. The legal content of the UN declaration of children’s rights is a very
difficult matter. There is, for example, no executive power on the national level.
This does not mean, however, that there is no pressure on the states of the UN.
Children’s rights are not just legal rights but just as well an expression of the moral
ideal of the UN. In this sense, children’s rights could properly be described as
a hybrid between moral and legal rights. The relation of moral and legal rights is
overwhelmingly complex and cannot be sufficiently addressed in this chapter.
It makes sense, therefore, to put our focus on moral rights only.
Do children have specific moral rights, and if yes, which rights would that be?
Joel Feinberg famously distinguishes between A-rights (rights that only adults
have), C-rights (rights that only children have), and A–C-rights (rights that both
children and adults have) (Feinberg 1980). Good examples of the first are liberty
rights, whereas welfare rights are good examples of the third type of rights.
But what about C-rights? According to Feinberg, we have to distinguish between
rights of the child here and now and the rights of the person that the child is
becoming to be. In the latter case, Feinberg speaks of “rights-in-trust.” The general
form of the rights-in-trust is, according to Feinberg, a right to an open future.
The right to an open future can be understood as an application of Kant’s principle
of non-instrumentalization. (According to Kant, persons are (conceptually) not just
means to an end but ends in themselves. That means that persons have to
be provided with certain goods like status, respect, welfare, etc. (This point is
sometimes made by using the somewhat blurry notion of dignity).) Only pedagogic
measures respecting the future autonomy of the child are morally justified.
According to this, religious minorities, for example, would have no moral right to
prevent their children from attending public schools because that would hurt their
right to an open future. However, Feinberg’s notion of openness is notoriously
vague in several aspects (Mills 2003). If our understanding of “openness,” on the
one hand, is too wide, education will be impossible because every interference with
the development of the child is ruled out. If we, on the other hand, our understand-
ing of “openness” is too narrow, it will not fulfill its alleged function because it
would be compatible with the instrumentalization of narrow educational ideals of
a child’s parents. Several suggestions have been made to overcome this weakness in
Feinberg’s account. John Eekelaar introduced the idea of understanding openness in
terms of development (Eekelaar 1986). On way to make this explicit is addressing

recent psychological research. Another way is suggested by Robert Noggle.
According to Noggle, children have a right to be provided with primary goods
where the latter are understood in a Rawlsian sense. (Noggle’s account will be
introduced in more detail in Sect. 6.3 of this chapter.)
Not all authors believe in specific rights for children. During the 1970s of the
past century, some writers on children rights claimed that children should indeed
have the same rights as adults. They are called child liberationists and claim that the
modern separation of children is an unwarranted discrimination and that children
should have the same rights as they are possessed by adults (Farson 1974; Holt 1974
and more recently Cohen 1980). No child liberationist thinks that children do not
have a right to special protection. What they claim is rather that children
should have the same liberal rights as adults: the right to work, to travel, to vote,
to choose their relations, etc. Several arguments have been provided in support of
this claim. As mentioned before, the first one is that age is an arbitrary criterion
for distinguishing children and adults, and the second is that competence is
a problematic criterion because adults sometimes are more incompetent than
some children (especially if we talk about teenagers). If there is no proper criterion
for justifying the threshold between adults and children, granting rights to the
former but not to the latter seems to be at least morally unjustified.
It is no surprise that child liberationism is confronted with several severe
objections. To start with: The basic claim of the child liberationists is a very radical
one insofar as it questions what most human parents see as normal or right.
However, opposing conventional wisdom in a radical way is always very difficult
to sustain. This is not simply referring to conservative intuitions. It is at least
questionable that the child liberationists offer good enough reasons for justifying
their thesis. Second, what a child chooses is not always in his or her best interest.
Consider again the just mentioned scenario where a child is not willing to put
his/her cap on in winter. True enough, also adults often do not act in their own best
interest from a rather objective point of view. The case of children is, however,
different in this matter. Third, granting liberty rights to children might put too much
pressure on children. It is not difficult to imagine that being responsible for one’s
own decisions is an excessive demand for children.
In the light of this critique, the position of the child-liberationist seems to be a lost
cause. Nonetheless, we can understand child liberationism as a challenge to rethink
how we treat children and especially how we should evaluate paternalism toward
children. We could at least ask if the alleged strict paternalism toward children we are
used to is justified. A helpful conceptual point would be to differentiate between
different degrees of paternalism. In a sense, this idea is already implemented in our
practice. For example, we grant youngsters some freedoms we do not grant to
toddlers. We encounter the threshold problem again. As we have seen, however,
lots of conceptual work has to be done in order to clarify this problem.
Last but not least, an influential argument by Onora O’Neill should be mentioned
(O’Neill 1988). O’Neill argues that what we owe to children is not properly expressed
in terms of rights. She differentiates between perfect and imperfect obligations: While
172 A. Bagattini
the former are always specified, the latter are indeterminate in their scope. Each of us
has, for example, a perfect duty to provide a certain level of care for our own children,
while we just have an imperfect duty to provide such a level to other children. Perfect
obligations are expressed in terms of legal rights that have the function to protect the
respective persons. O’Neill argues that this is not true for imperfect obligations. These
are rather moral obligations directed to our ideals and moral norms. O’Neill’s argument
has received some attention; however, it is seen as highly controversial that imperfect
obligations cannot be expressed in legal terms also (Archard 2004).
6.3 The Concept of Child Well-Being
In order to analyze the concept of child well-being, several interrelated aspects will
have to be considered. The following four topics will be addressed in this section:
• Well-being and child well-being
• The intrinsic goods of childhood
• Ethics and science
• Children, family, and the state
The concept of well-being has been explored in some depth by several
philosophers during the past decades. The first question is how the concept of
child well-being is related to the concept of well-being in general. Directly applying
the concept of well-being to children proves, however, to be difficult. That is why
some philosophers use the concept of intrinsic goods of childhood. If the well-being
of children is constituted by intrinsic goods, those goods must be open for empirical
investigation. (This is not to claim that the intrinsic goods of childhood are a purely
empirical matter. This would be counterintuitive. It is most plausible that we have
to consider descriptive and prescriptive aspects here.) That is why ethics, at this
point, have to leave the philosophical armchair, starting to learn what empirical
sciences – foremost psychology – have to say about the proper development and the
emotional and cognitive life of children. Last but not least, questions concerning the
well-being of children have to be considered in the difficult terrain of the different
interests of the parents, the state, and the children themselves.
6.3.1 Well-Being and Child Well-Being
Before addressing questions concerning the nature of child well-being, we should

first get a clearer idea of the very concept of well-being itself. The concept of well-
being is a philosophical term of art. It is mainly directed to phenomena of moral life
that correlate with justice or with just allocation of goods in society. Taken as
a philosophical term of art, the following taxonomy for theories of well-being
comes to mind:
1. Utilitarian theories
2. Deontological theories
3. Eudaimonistic theories
Utilitarianism is an ethical theory that justifies moral claims by reference to

a nonmoral good: fostering the well-being of as many people as possible.
(More basically, utilitarians claim that maximum utility is the highest moral good.
As utilitarianism identifies “being utile” with the well-being of persons, it makes
sense to speak of the well-being of the greatest number of persons.) What is the nature
of this good that is supposed to be maximized? Classical utilitarians like Bentham and
Mill favored a hedonist account of well-being. Hedonism comes from the Greek word
ἡdonή (hédoné) which means pleasure. While antiquity philosophers like Epicurus
considered pleasure and happiness to be objective aspects of the good life (subjects
can err about their pleasure), modern philosophers like Bentham and Mill or more
recently Sumner (1996) think differently about this: Happiness is supposed to be
subjective (subjects are the authorities for judging about it). Hedonist accounts of
well-being claim that the concept of well-being can be analyzed in terms of pleasure.
As pleasure is defined by its mental state (without referring to intentional objects),
hedonism is compatible with the well-being of persons living a virtual life. In other
words, hedonism is confronted with experience-machine-type worries. (The idea
goes back to Nozick (1977).) Imagine that an experience machine can give you the
pleasure of believing that you are a great artist. Would that be enough for you to think
that your life goes well? Most of us would not, because we do not just want to have
the feeling to be X (a great artist, for example). What we want, furthermore, is the
thing itself: We want to be X (a great artist).
For this reason, most contemporary writers favor a desire account of well-being
(Brandt 1979; Singer 1993). Desire accounts avoid the problems of pure mental-
state accounts, because the notion of a desire is intentional. Desires are necessarily
related to objects of the world. In the case of a desire, I do not just want to have the
mental state; rather, I want to have the desired object. This makes desire theories
immune against experience-machine-type thought experiments. The appeal of
desire theories of well-being comes from their liberal commitment to the well-being
of individual persons. Yet, such a simple desire account needs at least some
restrictions. Even from a liberal viewpoint, not every desire can be constitutive
for the well-being of a person. Most philosophers prefer an informed desire
account, in which only informed – rational or reflected – desires count for the
well-being of persons (Griffin 1986). At this point, when it comes to child
well-being, it seems quite natural to be a utilitarian. Children seem to be
a paradigmatic case of (mostly) uninformed individuals, because they lack the
conceptual and emotional capabilities for weighing their desires against each
other and against the desires of others. Children typically do not ask about the
well-being of other persons. On the other hand, this is true for many (if not most)
adults as well. However, adults are supposed to be able to decide for their
well-being. Another weakness of utilitarian accounts of child well-being is their
implicit endorsement of paternalism. As we have seen, paternalism toward children
is (at least in the case of teenagers) in need of justification. What the defender of
a utilitarian account of child well-being has to show is either that paternalism
toward children is justified or (if this is not the case) how children’s interests can
be embedded in a utilitarian account of child well-being.
174 A. Bagattini
Deontological theories take autonomy and not well-being as an intrinsic moral

value. This does not mean that deontologians do not care about the well-being of
persons. A good example in this context is John Rawls’ cornerstone work on
political liberalism The Theory of Justice (1971). According to Rawls, a just
society allocates what he calls “primary goods” in the light of egalitarian princi-
ples. Primary goods are very general goods like liberty rights, status, opportuni-
ties, and welfare. Rawls makes two important premises in order to argue for
primary goods: (1) Society is a cooperation of free and equal persons. (2) Humans
have an intuitive sense for justice and the capacity for a conception of the
good. Primary goods are the most general goods that have to be allocated equally
to every person so that he/she can live according to his/her conception of a good
life. The flip side is that every person is him/herself responsible for his/her well-
being. In this sense, Rawls’ account may be called a deontological account of
well-being.
Several authors deal with the question of how to adapt Rawls’ idea of primary
goods to the concept of child well-being (Macleod 2010; Noggle 2002; Brighouse
and Unterhalter 2010). Robert Noggle, for example, argues that children are special
agents that are yet not (fully) capable of administering primary goods. That is why
children need the helping hands of adults. For Noggle, those adults, mostly the
parents, are the trustees of the child. Their job is, basically, to look after the person
the child is supposed to become. In other words, parents and society have
the obligation to help children to become persons that can live according to
their own vision of a good life (insofar as primary goods are concerned). Noggle’s
account is intuitively very appealing. It allows to balance the interests of the child
against the interests of the parents and of society in general. A first point of
criticism is what some authors call the irrelevance problem (Macleod 2010). The
value of primary goods can be appreciated by adults but not by children. “From
the perspective of childhood primary goods have little direct value” (Macleod
2010, p. 180). As a consequence, the idea of trusteeship – as it is assumed by
Noggle – has to be paternalistic in a straightforward sense. The problem with this
account is that it runs the risk of overlooking the perspective of the child.
A second point of criticism concerns the inherent egalitarian premise of the
account: As several authors have pointed out, the same rights for every individual
may hurt the interests and development of single individuals (Frankfurt 1997; Raz
1986). Another critical remark concerns the notion of a primary good itself.
The problem with this notion is that Rawls’ list of goods does not represent the
diversity within any human population (and even less if we regard cross-cultural
dimensions) (Sen 2009).
Eudaimonistic theories of well-being are naturalistic insofar as they take the
notion of human nature as fundamental. Eudaimonism goes back to Aristotle’s
idea that the ultimate goal (the tέloB) of human life is eὐdaimonı́a (eudaimonı́a),
which means happiness. Happiness is thereby taken to be an objective state that
could only be reached by living one’s life according to the principal virtues
(braveness, temperance, justice, prudence, etc.). In a rather complicated line of
argument, Aristotle argues that living a virtuous live is the function of human
beings. As, for example, a good (functioning) knife has to be sharp, a good
(functioning) human being has to live according to the virtues (Aristotle 2000).
Modern eudaimonistic theories skip Aristotle’s teleological metaphysics while
keeping his naturalistic assumption that there are certain aspects of human
well-being that are objective parts of human nature. The most prominent account
is the capability approach as it has been developed by several authors in recent
years (Nussbaum 2011; Sen 2001). According to the capability approach, the
well-being of persons is identified with a bundle of capabilities that are essential
for human nature. (This is seen in analogy with other beings in nature, like plants
that need photosynthesis or predators that need to be quick and silent when
hunting.) In her recent book, Creating Capabilities, Martha Nussbaum gives a list
of ten basic capabilities that are supposed to be constitutive for the well-being of
human beings: life; bodily integrity; bodily health; senses, imagination, and
thought; emotions; practical reason; affiliation; concern for animals and plants;
play; and control over one’s environment (Nussbaum 2011, p. 33f). Due to its
objective account of well-being, the capability approach is very attractive for
a conception of child well-being. Contrary to primary goods, capabilities can be
measured. There is a close connection between Nussbaum’s approach and recent
psychological research in the concept of happiness. (The relation of Nussbaum’s
account to positive psychology will be addressed in this section in the paragraph
concerning ethics and science.) Nonetheless, the alleged objectivity of the capabil-
ity approach invites some serious critical arguments. Foremost, it has been pointed
out that eudaimonism implies perfectionism: the view that there are ideally func-
tioning humans (Hurka 1996). As a narrow understanding of “ideally functioning”
leads to loathsome political consequences, only a wide understanding can be
justified. This route is taken by Nussbaum herself. She takes her list of capabilities
to be a rather formal catalogue that may change in content from culture to culture.
Will this move, however, not lead to relativism? What is any objective list of
capabilities good for if each capability is open for interpretation? A second
point of criticism concerns another problematic implication of perfectionism,
namely, that we talk about normally, ideally, or well-functioning adults. Can we
reduce, however, child well-being to the process of becoming a normally or
well-functioning adult? Is it not that we overlook the perspective of the child in
a substantial way? And, how can we derive normative claims for children from
a normative perspective on adults? Thirdly, how should we decide which capabil-
ities are relevant and which are not? Nussbaum refers to the results of empirical
happiness research at this point. This, however, cannot possibly suffice from a stark
normative perspective (Macleod 2010).
As we have seen, each account of child well-being is confronted with serious
objections. That is why several authors prefer a mixed approach, combining different
facets of each account (Brighouse and Unterhalter 2010). As we will shortly see,
other authors argue that a clarification of the concept of child well-being presupposes
that first we must know more about the intrinsic goods of childhood.
176 A. Bagattini
6.3.2 The Intrinsic Goods of Childhood
The last part has brought some evidence that any naı̈ve application of the concept
of well-being to children runs into several objections. None of the “big three” of
ethical theories gives a convincing account of child well-being. Apart from the
specific problems of each account, we have identified a basic problem: Children
might be more than “wannabe adults.” In other words, there is no direct normative
implication of the concept of well-being (for adults) for children. An essential
question has yet been overlooked that concerns the specific perspective of the
child. In this context, some authors argue that, before trying to develop an account
of child well-being, we first have to have a look at the intrinsic goods of childhood
(Macleod 2010).
What are intrinsic goods of childhood? Intuitively, goods like the following ones
come to our minds: curiosity, sense of open path, playfulness, and optimism.
However, not all elements of a good childhood need to be pleasant. Plato remarks
in one of his early dialogues: the good must not be confused with the pleasant.
Without discipline (which is unlikely to be pleasant all the time), no complex
activities can be learnt. Without any tolerance for physical pain, the whole world
of sports will be barred for the child. It makes sense, therefore, to understand the
intrinsic goods of childhood as those goods that are relevant for a proper flourishing
of children. Despite its affinities to the capability approach, the intrinsic goods
account is different in a specific sense. It seeks for the peculiar elements of the
being of the child. This aspect has some affinities with the perspective of the child
liberationists. The important difference is that the intrinsic goods account is not
defined by denying the separatedness thesis. Quite on the contrary, it defends this
thesis in a straightforward sense. Nonetheless, no catalogue of intrinsic goods of
childhood exists. One of the main reasons for this is that questions concerning the
well-being of children are very often posed from a stark normative perspective.
Some religious parents may have very different things in mind when speaking about
what is good for their child than, say, rather atheistic parents. Some parents prefer
sports, while others believe music or intellectual skills to be most important for
a good life. Is there any way out of this normative swamp? Some authors believe
that ethics should get more empirically informed, using the results from empirical
sciences like psychology or sociology.
6.3.3 Ethics and Science
Philosophy in general and ethics in particular have traditionally been rather

skeptical or even hostile against the application of empirical theories in ethics.
One source of this is Hume’s is/ought distinction (Hume 1978). Ethical claims are,
on the one hand, prescriptive (ought statements), insofar as they aim at what
persons should do. Scientific claims are, on the other hand, descriptive (is state-
ments) about facts of the world. However, descriptive statements (alone) can
never justify prescriptive claims because there is no valid inference from the former
to the latter. (Neither deductive nor inductive inferences allow for concluding
something that is not given in the premises (Moore 1903; for a critical perspective,
see Frankena 1939).) However, not every argument that derives normative
consequences from mere facts is a naturalistic fallacy (as philosophers call invalid
inferences from is to ought). What is needed is a normative principle in the premises
of an argument that allows for such a conclusion. A well-known candidate is “ought
implies can.” If neuroscience showed, for example, that free will is just an illusion,
this would challenge several normative claims in ethics. If humans were simply
incapable of free decision-making, for example, they would not be (individually)
responsible for their actions. As this example shows, the is/ought problematic does
not mean that empirical science is not in principle relevant for normative ethics.
It means that empirical concepts cannot be used in normative ethics in a naı̈ve way.
Another source for philosophy’s hesitation to use empirical arguments goes back to
Kant. In his Critique of Practical Reason, Kant argues concerning the concept of
happiness that the latter cannot be of any theoretical value for ethics because ethics
is in need of a priori reasons, while the concept of happiness is a purely empirical
concept (Kant 1997, p. }2). What Kant is expressing in his idiosyncratic style is
that ethical arguments call for universally valid reasons, while happiness – as
a feeling – is subjective by nature. Several replies have been made to this. Early
utilitarians, like Mill, pointed out that the happiness of the many is of moral value
(Mill 1998). Furthermore, it seems far from clear that happiness is just a subjective
feeling, as Kant assumes. Empirical happiness research delivers strong evidence for
the claim that we find cross-cultural similarities in what makes people happy.
The general skepticism of philosophy concerning the value of the results of
empirical science for normative questions seems to be overdrawn. During the past
decades, several interesting crossovers between ethical and especially psychological
and sociological questions have been explored. (Some representatives of this new
branch in ethics, called “empirically informed ethics,” are John Doris (2002), Daniel
Haybron (2011), and Jesse Prinz (2009).) How can the results of psychological and
sociological research be made fruitful for the ethical enquiry of the concept of child
well-being and questions concerning the intrinsic goods of childhood? This chapter
can only sketch some aspects of the relevant theories.
A good start is developmental psychology in the spirit of Jean Piaget (1932) and
Lawrence Kohlberg (1981/1984). In order to classify different stages of moral
development, the quality of the answers of several individuals to morally problem-
atic cases are analyzed. Answers using egocentric and rather emotional language
count as low level, while answers using universal moral concepts count as high
level of moral development. Such insights can, for example, help with making
progress at least with a partly solution for the threshold problem, insofar as
developmental psychology examines the moral “potential” of (young) persons.
This is, in turn, helpful for deciding when certain rights must be given to children.
Other branches of developmental psychology deal with the attachment of babies
and toddlers to their parents (Bowlby 1953, 1982) or with cognitive development
(Demetriou et al. 2002; Commons et al. 1998). A very impressive study has been
presented by sociologist Meredith Rowe and psychologist Susan Goldin-Meadow.
178 A. Bagattini
They found that the level of communication of mothers with their children has an
impact on the later vocabulary of their children (Rowe and Goldin-Meadow 2009).
Again, this is not the place for overhasty conclusions. Yet, those empirical results
should be taken into account when we ask about children’s rights or about the
general well-being of children.
Another quite recent approach should be mentioned that could be of high
relevance for questions concerning child well-being: positive psychology (Seligman
and Csikszentmihalyi 2000). Contrary to classical psychology (that was rather
interested in phenomena of psychic malfunctioning), positive psychology is about
what makes people flourish. There is a close connection with Nussbaum’s capabil-
ity approach, as positive psychology deals with mental phenomena that make up for
good human functioning. Using means of modern psychology (like structured
observation and self-reports), positive psychology explores phenomena such as
happiness, character, positive thinking, and values. Consider, for example, positive
thinking. In a long-term study, psychologists found out that young optimistic
persons are much more likely to be well-off in their later lives (Peterson et al.
1988). It is again difficult to determine the exact normative implications of results
like this one. If we, however, believe that early inequalities in the lives of children
should be balanced, this would be a good reason to help children to develop
a positive perspective on their lives.
More interesting empirical input for ethical considerations concerning the
well-being of children may come from empirical happiness research. There are
cross-cultural similarities in what makes people happy or unhappy. Concerning
children, it has been discovered that at least some aspects of well-being (like
spending time with their friends and parents, time for playing, safety, etc.) affect
all children (Layard 2005).
6.3.4 Children, Parents, and the State
Most modern states take the right to found a family as a natural right. Two
important implications of this are, firstly, that the state can just endorse this right;
every challenge to it has to be justified by good reasons. Secondly, the right to found
a family implies a right to bear children. Yet this right is not unconditional, while its
restrictions are sometimes more and sometimes less controversial. (One of the less
controversial reasons is the future well-being of the child. Highly controversial are,
on the other hand, restrictions for political reasons, like China’s “one-child policy,”
or restrictions for single or homosexual women using technologies like IVF.)
However, a right to bear does not necessarily imply a right to rear. As we will
examine closer in the next section, all liberal states have legal restrictions for
parenthood. If parents endanger the well-being of a child (by neglect, violence,
abuse, etc.), specific legal instruments will be used. In the default case, however, the
biological parents of a child will be allowed to rear their offspring. Furthermore,
this right to rear is at the heart of the idea of the liberal state, insofar it displays
a basic liberty right. This right might be negative by nature (there is no positive duty
to support, for example, infertile persons). Nonetheless, according to political and

conventional wisdom, it is a liberty right. It is, however, important to keep in mind
that we are talking about children and not about property or pets. Children are
persons and cannot, therefore, be seen as the property of their parents (Archard
1993). What rationale can be given to justify the right of the biological parents to
rear their offspring?
A very influential argument has been analyzed in much depth by David Archard
(1995, 2004): the “blood ties” argument. The “blood ties” argument takes a
psychological fact – namely, that parents and children feel strongly attached to
each other – as its main premise. From this, it is inferred that parents have a right to
rear their children. Obviously, the argument does not work in this form. Strong
feelings do not establish rights. (This would indeed be a paradigmatic case of
a naturalistic fallacy.) Otherwise, the dreams of many unhappy lovers in the
world would become true. A further normative premise is needed that justifies the
introduction of rights in the conclusion. One way of dealing with this is to claim that
the love of and for the parents is a basic need of children. If we further assume that
basic needs constitute rights, we can argue that this need of the children constitutes
the right of parents to rear their offspring. If the proper development of children
depends on their relation to their parents, this would strongly support the “blood
ties” argument. There is some support for this assumption, as we have just seen,
from psychological attachment theory. According to attachment theory, the
attachment to their parents is essential for the proper development of many
important character traits, like courage, inquisitiveness, or empathy. There is,
however, also counterevidence to this claim. First, it is a sad but empirical truth
that at least some parents are not or not sufficiently attached to their children.
Otherwise, the neglect and abuse of children would not be that common. Second, it
cannot be assumed by default that only the biological parents of a child can play the
part that is required by attachment theory. Is the “blood ties” argument a good
argument or not? Well, it depends on further assumptions. One thing is certain, that
any inference from the mere attachment of the parents toward their children to
a right to rear presupposes that the parents fulfill their parental duties.
Yet, some authors still question that biological parents have a default right to
rear. In a classical paper, Hugh LaFollette argues that parenthood should be
licensed (LaFollette 1980). LaFollette begins his argument with a truism: Our
society licenses activities (like driving or medical treatment) that are potentially
harmful to others. He then claims that licensing procedures can be applied to
parents as well. Because children sometimes get harmed by their parents, LaFollette
asks about reasons that could possibly be weighed against licensing parents. Just
claiming the (liberty) right to rear – like the right to free speech – is not enough
because, firstly, children are persons with their own rights and, secondly, even
liberty rights are not without any restrictions. LaFollette discovers five main
reasons contra licensing: (i) We may not be able to find adequate criteria for
good parenting. (ii) There is no reliable way to predict who will maltreat children.
(iii and iv) There is possibility of abuse or misuse by administrators. (v) There is no
adequate and just way of implementing a licensing program. LaFollette’s argument
180 A. Bagattini
runs against each of the five reasons contra licensing. Against (i), he argues that it is
enough to pick out the bad parents. Against (ii), he claims that 100 % reliability is
not necessary and that psychology and the social sciences indeed provide enough
material for reliable tests. (iii–v) are not specific problems of child-licensing
programs but of every institutionalized setting. LaFollette’s main thesis can be
summarized as follows: If there are no good reasons against licensing programs for
parents, those programs should be implemented.
Despite its force, LaFollette’s argument is unlikely to convince too many people.
Why is that? Well, in the case of the many, often intuitions play a decisive role.
Such intuitions, however, often do not sustain critical reflection. Yet, some critical
points are certainly sufficient for philosophical reasoning: Administrative misuse
and problems with a just implementation of any licensing program are indeed
serious threats. Is it, for example, just to confine the good parents for the reason
of “detecting” the bad ones? Two goods are at stake here: the liberty right to rear
(precluding the thread of a surveillance society) and the rights of the children
from rather problematic social contexts. The balancing of those goods is a delicate
matter that any liberal society has to deal with. A universal answer seems to be,
however, far off.
6.4 Children’s Well-Being in Practice
The practical contexts in which disagreement about children’s well-being generates

important ethical issues are diverse, and not all of them can be explored in this
chapter. This section will focus on two topics:
• Child well-being and law
• Child well-being and medicine
6.4.1 Child Well-Being and Law
According to Peter Singer, we can observe an increasing circle of equality

(Singer 1981). By “equality,” Singer means the allocation of equal rights. While the
ancient world granted most of all equal rights only to a limited class of citizens of a
certain polis, modern national states started extending the number of persons with equal
rights to most male persons. Women and certain ethnic groups remained, however, out
of the circle. As it is known, this changed during the past 100 years. At least on paper,
racism and discrimination of women are ruled out in most liberal states. Singer
famously argues for the adjudication of equal rights to certain animals (Singer 1990).
Singer’s thesis of animal liberation stays to be, however, highly controversial.
Not so in the case of children. The well-being of children has become a major
good in modern societies, whose protection has been implemented in the respective
legal systems. While Anglophone legal systems in England or in the USA use the
doctrine of the best interest of the child, the law in European countries,
like Germany or the Netherlands, uses “child well-being” as a term. However, both
notions refer to the same concept. All these countries share the belief that the
well-being of children is a good that has to be protected. And, furthermore, the
well-being of children is seen as something of value independently of the interests
of the parents, the family, or the state. For this, a dramatic change was necessary, as
it had happened since the mid-twentieth century. Before the two world wars, all
matters in family life had been dominated by the principle of “pater familias.”
Women as well as children counted legally as the property of the father of the
family. The situation has not only changed for women but also for children.
Children nowadays are seen as persons with their own rights, too. The doctrine of
child well-being, respectively of the best interest of the child, has played a major
part in this process (Mason 1996). As a consequence, nowadays, there holds the
parental right to child custody. However, this right implies several obligations
which in turn are justified by the concept of child well-being. In other words, the
fact that the well-being of children counts as an important moral good has caused
serious changes in the legal systems of liberal states. This means basically that the
right to child custody brings about also certain parental obligations. This means, in
turn, that the state has to supervise the proper fulfillment of the parents’ right to
child custody. If the parents endanger the well-being of their children, the state has
to act in the best interest of the child.
However, the process of increasing the moral and political status of formerly
oppressed persons leads always to political conflicts that are partly a purely
pragmatic matter, for example, changes in the legal system as well as in institu-
tional settings. Of significance for this chapter are the manifold ethical implica-
tions of the changed political and moral status of children. As has already been
discussed in Sect. 6.2, the normative status of children is on the one hand clearly
defined as the status of a person (and not of property). On the other hand, it has
been pointed out that the details of this status are far from being clear. Should
children have the same rights or different rights than adults? What is the content
of children’s rights, anyway? How are those rights justified? By which criteria are
children properly distinguished from adults? Those questions reflect a deep trench
molded by conflicting goods. On the one hand, we have the privacy of the family,
and on the other hand there, is the protection of the well-being of children. Any
liberal society endorses a wide range of liberal rights for any individual. That
means the state keeps silent concerning questions of how people should fulfill
their life plans as long as others are not offended. This is true for families as well.
It is part of the “inner policy” of each family if one prefers living in a house or in
a flat, if one prefers car sharing or a private car, if one wants to have children, and
if how many children one likes to have. Those questions are not in the scope of the
authority of the state. Protecting the privacy of the family (against collective
demands or against demands of the state) is at the heart of any liberal society
(Feinberg 1990). As long as children are seen as part of the inner policy of the
family, there is no trouble with the ethical implications of the concept of child
well-being. If we begin to see children as persons, however, they are instantly
subject to the principle of non-instrumentalization. (According to Kant, persons
182 A. Bagattini
are (conceptually) not just means to an end but ends in themselves. That means
that persons have to be provided with certain goods like status, respect, welfare,
etc. (This point is sometimes made by using the somewhat blurry notion of
dignity).) That is, there are limits for the way parents may deal with their children.
An interesting case is public schooling.
There are interesting trials in the USA, where Amish charged the state because
they wanted to liberate their children from public schools. Their reason was
basically that they feared for their cultural heritage because their children get in
contact with liberal values (and consumer goods) at school. In most cases, however,
the judges protected the alleged best interest of the child, namely, that a certain
level of education is mandatory for being a citizen (Feinberg 1980). Yet, as
intuitions are not so clear in many other cases, deep-reaching normative conflicts
can occur. Preventing children from public schooling might be a clear case of
endangerment of child well-being. But what about children in underprivileged
families? Is there any obligation by the state to “equalize” the chances and oppor-
tunities of children? If yes, which institutional settings are adequate for this task?
Especially questions concerning a just upbringing come more and more into the
focus both of the public and of philosophical reflection (Adams 2009; Fennimore
and Goodwin 2011; Richards 2010). Another debate concerns the status of
children’s interests (Brennan 2002; Dwyer 2012; Brighouse 2003).
6.4.2 Child Well-Being and Medicine
Medical contexts result in many ethical problems. The range of topics reaches from
autonomy conflicts to questions concerning the just allocation of scarce goods or to
limits of medical treatment and euthanasia. In the case of children’s well-being,
three issues in medical ethics are of utmost importance:
1. Professional discretion of pediatricians
2. Medical treatment for children
3. Clinical trials with children
Before going in medias res, a primer in methodology is necessary. Most
philosophers working in the field of medical ethics deal with a so-called mixed
approach of ethical principles. The reason is simply that a purely utilitarian or
deontological account does not seem to work in ethical contexts. According to
Beauchamp and Childress, four ethical principles should be taken into account:
(i) autonomy (free will), (ii) beneficence (to do good), (iii) non-maleficence (not to
do harm), and (iv) justice (social fairness) (Beauchamp and Childress 2008). Let us
now turn to the just mentioned problems 1–3.
Professional discretion is one of the basic obligations of practical physicians.
The physician’s knowledge is protected against the interests of third parties such as
employers or administrations. This holds also in the case of children. However, the
case of children is specific because (at least for young children) the principle of
autonomy cannot be applied. This is problematic if pediatricians suspect the parents
of the child to harm their child. In clear cases (like broken joints or signs of sexual
abuse), the physician will report to the youth welfare office. There are many cases,
however, that may be not so clear (like the level of hygiene, lingual abilities, or
signs of emotional stress). In unclear cases, physicians are confronted with two
contradictory obligations: one is their professional discretion and the other one is
their duty to care for the health-related well-being of the child. It is not always clear
for the physician which duty he/she should follow. On the one hand, the state
protects (as we have seen in the last paragraph) the privacy of the family.
Accordingly, the parents of the child can bring a physician to justice if he/she
reports to the youth welfare office in any way. On the other hand, the duty to care
for the health-related well-being of the child puts a pressure on the physician to do
exactly this in some cases: to report to the youth welfare office. This situation is
dilemmatic and can be seen as ethically problematic. In this context, several authors
argue that we need a better understanding of the notion of child well-being,
respectively of the best interest of the child (Buchanan and Brock 1990; Archard
2004; Macleod 2010). As we have seen in the last paragraph, however, this task is
very difficult, as it has to weigh goods such as the privacy of the family against, for
example, the well-being of the child.
The next aspect considers general issues related to the medical treatment of
children. Consider any medical treatment. Under normal conditions, physicians
have to respect the principle of autonomy. If you do not want the treatment, the
physician cannot force you to it. The case of children is, however, more difficult,
as the principle of autonomy cannot be applied by default. Obviously, once more
we are confronted with the threshold problem. How can it be right, however, to
grant any adult person the freedom of choosing his/her own medical treatment
while we do not ask him/her if he/she counts as a teenager? Consider the case of
the British teenager Hannah Jones who refused a lifesaving heart transplant at the
age of 13. The case of Hannah Jones became quite famous, because it displays
a much broader topic: When should we grant children the right to decide for their
well-being? Medical treatment is a specific aspect of this general problem.
Another important ethical issue in this context concerns the reluctance of some
parents toward specific medical treatment. The principle of beneficence obliges
the physician to do his/her best in order to help a patient. What will you do,
however, if your patient is the child of a Jehovah’s Witness where the parents
decide against a necessary blood transfusion? Or should we allow physicians to
provide plastic surgery with teenagers?
Another debate concerns clinical trials with children. The problem is that
children are sometimes in need of medicine. The principle of non-maleficence,
however, forces physicians to prescribe only medicine that has been tested in
appropriate clinical trials. Yet such trials presuppose the autonomous decision of
the participants, which is ruled out in the case of children. We are forced to
conclude then that there should be no clinical trials with children. As is it known,
such trials take place in developmental countries where desperate parents often do
not have the economic or intellectual resources for alternatives. It goes without
184 A. Bagattini
saying, however, that this is ethically highly problematic. Is there any way out of
this dilemma (without exploiting the situation of children in developmental
countries)? The only just way seems to allow at least certain clinical trials with
children. The question comes down to this: Is it morally justified to care for the
beneficence of future children by putting the children of the actual generation to
some risk? As the notion of risk is vague, an answer to this question needs further
clarification of what “risk” means. This would be a proper starting point for dealing
with this problem.
6.5 Conclusion
Philosophy is concerned with challenging common beliefs and with pointing at

certain inconsistencies in our daily practice. Most people have strong beliefs
concerning children’s well-being. This chapter has dealt with some of the recent
philosophical work on the topic of child well-being. It started with some norma-
tive questions concerning the nature of childhood: What is the normative status
of the child? By which criteria can children and adults be best distinguished? Is it
(morally) right that children are paternalized by adults? Are there any specific
children’s rights? If so, what is the form and content of those rights? Answers to
those questions are of utmost importance for any progress with coming to grips
with a concept of child well-being. Section 6.3 discussed the concept of well-
being in general and how it might be related to the concept of child well-being in
particular. Several philosophical conceptions of well-being were discussed,
namely, utilitarian, deontological, and eudaimonistic conceptions of well-
being. It turned out, however, that a naı̈ve application of those accounts to the
concept of child well-being is not tenable. The fundamental point of criticism is
that the specific perspective of the child is missing. That is why authors like Colin
Macleod are inquiring into the intrinsic goods of childhood. If there are any
intrinsic goods of childhood, they cannot be defined in a purely normative way.
That is why ethics at this point should be informed by empirical sciences like
psychology or sociology. Section 6.3 closed with issues concerning the well-
being of children in the area of conflict between the interests of children, parents,
and the state. Finally, Sect. 6.4 dealt with two important practical fields where the
aforementioned ethical aspects are relevant: law and medicine. They are only
two examples of many more possible fields of application. For instance, how
should children’s well-being affect the design of the school curriculum? How
should public institutions respond to requests to accommodate the religious or
cultural practices or beliefs of children? What about teenage autonomy, for
example, with respect to teenagers’ right to vote and their accountability for
crimes. Once one raises the question of child well-being, many more questions
come to mind that could not be covered in this contribution. This shows,
however, that there are ardent discussions going on with respect to child well-
being and its normative importance and that the field is still in need of much more
future research.
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Child Well-Being: Children’s Rights
Perspective 7
Jaap E. Doek
7.1 A Brief History
Public involvement in child well-being has its origins in the protection of orphans.
Churches and charities were largely responsible for the establishment of
orphanages in sixteenth- and seventeenth-century Europe. Additional efforts were
focused on juvenile delinquents and street children (vagrants) at the end of the
sixteenth century in the Netherlands (Sellin 1944).
During the nineteenth and most of the twentieth century the promotion of the
well-being of the child focused on the protection of the most vulnerable children,
such as orphans, working children, and victims of abuse and neglect (Meuwese
et al. 2007; ten Bensel et al. 1997). Protective actions were initially taken mainly by
civil society organizations. Notorious cases, like the physical maltreatment of Mary
Ellen in New York in 1874, led to the establishment of new nongovernmental
organizations such as the New York Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to
Children (Lazoritz 1990; Zigler and Hall 1989).
In the nineteenth century, industrialization brought about a drastic increase in the
scale and intensity of exploitation of child labor in the US and Europe. Civil society
groups, including charity organizations, trade unions, and individual reformers,
raised awareness and campaigned for legislative and other measures to protect at
least the youngest children from the worst forms of child labor. In many European
countries and in the USA, laws were enacted to set minimum ages for labor and for
prohibiting children from some forms of work such as mining (Hindman 2002;
Tuttle 1999; Weissbach 1989). These protective measures also promoted education.
The second half of the nineteenth century and the first decades of the twentieth
century brought laws introducing compulsory primary education in many countries
in Europe and in the USA (Fyfe 2009). This development can be considered as
J.E. Doek
Family and Juvenile Law, Vrije Universiteit, Lisse, The Netherlands

188 J.E. Doek
a move from protection only to the provision of social conditions, in this case
education, for positive developments, and the realization of improvements of child
well-being. It should be noted that information on the history of child labor and
education in developing countries is very limited, and it is beyond the scope of this
chapter to elaborate more on the emerging protection of working children and the
introduction of education (Cunningham 1996; Grier 1994).
In the second half of the twentieth century, the well-being of the child became
increasingly a matter of concern of the state. The new focus on the well-being of
children was reflected not only in the strengthening of the protection of vulnerable
children but also in the creation of conditions for the child’s development via laws
and policies regarding education, health care, social services, and social security.
Particularly in Europe, this resulted in the establishment of the so-called social
welfare states.
The well-being of the child as a social and public concern entered a new phase of
development with the adoption of the Convention on the Rights of the Child (CRC)
by the UN General Assembly on November 20, 1989 (Resolution 44/25) and its
ratification by 193 states. The CRC made well-being a right of the child and moved
it from charity to entitlement. This chapter explains and elaborates on the conse-
quences of dealing with the well-being of the child from a rights perspective. After
an introduction to the CRC, various aspects of the convention and its implications
for the well-being of children are discussed.
7.2 Introduction to the Convention on the Rights of the Child
7.2.1 The Declarations of 1924 and 1959
The devastating impact of World War I (1914–1918) on the life of children

was a matter of great concern for, among others, the Save the Children Fund.
Eglantyne Jebb, an English school teacher who established the Save the Children
Union, wanted to draft a charter identifying the aims of the union. This charter
eventually developed into a Declaration of the Rights of the Child. This declaration
was submitted to the League of Nations, the predecessor of what is now the
United Nations, and was adopted on September 26, 1924. The declaration can be
considered as the first truly international document on the human rights of children.
Its content reflected the reason for its creation. In a very limited number of statements,
the basic needs of children were addressed without using the word “right.”
However, the wording clearly implied an entitlement (right) of the child.
For example, the declaration stated, “The child that is hungry must be fed, the
child that is sick must be nursed (. . .); and the orphan and the waif must be
sheltered and succored. The child must be given the means requisite for its normal
development, both materially and spiritually.” The Declaration of the Rights of
the Child can be characterized as the first internationally adopted instrument of
social and economic rights. The adoption of the declaration challenged the
traditional view that civil and political rights are the first generation of human
7 Child Well-Being: Children’s Rights Perspective 189
Principle 1: Every child shall enjoy all the rights in the Declaration (nondiscrimination).
Principle 2: The child shall enjoy special protection and be given opportunities to develop in a healthy and
normal manner in condition of dignity and freedom. In the enactment of laws, for this purpose the best interest of
the child shall be the paramount condition.
Principle 3: The child shall be entitled from his birth to a name and a nationality.
Principle 4: The child shall enjoy the benefits of social security, and the child shall have the right to adequate
nutrition, housing, recreation and medical services.
Principle 5: The child who is handicapped shall be given the special treatment, education and care required by
his particular condition.
Principle 6: The child shall, wherever possible, grow up in the care and responsibility of his parents.
Principle 7: The child is entitled to receive education that, at least in the elementary stage, shall be free and
compulsory. The best interest of the child shall be the guiding principle in education and the child shall have the
opportunity for play and recreation.
Principle 8: The child shall always be among the first to receive protection and relief.
Principle 9: The child shall be protected against all forms of neglect, cruelty and exploitation and shall not be
subject to traffic in any form. The child shall not be admitted to employment before an appropriate minimum age
and not be engaged in any work that would prejudice his health or education,
Principle 10: The child shall be protected from practices fostering social, religious and any other form of
discrimination and shall be brought up in a spirit of understanding, tolerance, friendship among peoples, and
peace.
Fig. 7.1 1959 Declaration of the Rights of the Child
rights followed by social, economic, and cultural rights as the second generation
(van Bueren 1995, pp. 6–9).
World War II brought the end of the League of Nations but it was replaced by the
United Nations in 1945. In 1946, discussions began within the Economic and Social
Council of the United Nations (ECOSOC) about the possibility of a new Declara-
tion on the Rights of the Child as the successor to the 1924 Declaration, updated to
reflect the changes that occurred since 1924. After considerable discussion, the UN
General Assembly adopted the 1959 Declaration of the Rights of the Child on
November 21, 1959 [Resolution 1386 (XIV) of 21 November 1959]. The 1959
Declaration contained ten principles that embody the minimum essential rights
(Fig. 7.1).
The 1959 Declaration, like the 1924 Declaration, is a nonbinding document,
meaning that it does not impose any legal obligation on the member states of the
UN. However, the principles do have a strong moral force given that the declaration
was adopted unanimously. Some of the principles are modifications of articles in
the Universal Declaration of Human Rights adopted in 1948 by the UN General
Assembly [Resolution 217A (III) of 10 December 1948]. Finally, the Preamble
of the declaration “calls upon parents, upon men and women as individuals to
recognize these rights and strive for their observance by legislative and other
measures.”
In 1979 the UN General Assembly concluded that the principles of the 1959
Declaration have played a significant part in the promotion of the rights of children
(UN Doc. A/33/45). The 1959 Declaration represents great progress in the concept
of children’s rights. The document demonstrates the extent to which children are
190 J.E. Doek
beginning to emerge as no longer passive recipients of handouts but as subject of

international law and recognized as being able to enjoy the benefits of specific
rights and freedoms (van Bueren 1995, p. 12).
The Declarations of 1924 and 1959 show that the Convention on the Rights of
the Child was part of a continuum of developments that began in 1924. However,
the development of the concept of children’s rights was not only a matter of
international documents but also of individuals. The most radical thinker and
practitioner was Janusz Korczak, a Polish medical doctor and writer. He empha-
sized that a child is not a human-becoming but already a human being. The first and
indisputable right of a child is that he can express his views and thoughts and that he
can actively participate in all decisions regarding his life. Korczak practiced his
radical views as the director of a Jewish orphanage in Warsaw in which he
established a children’s parliament and a children’s court (Kerber-Gause 2009;
Lifton 1988; Veerman 1991).
The draft of a convention on the rights of the child submitted to the UN
by Poland in 1978 was quite similar to the text of the 1959 Declaration. The
main goal of the proposal was to upgrade the 1959 Declaration to an internationally
binding instrument. The move from a declaration to a convention was also part
of the broader development of human rights. The following section highlights
some observations and background information on this broader human rights
context.
7.2.2 The CRC in the Context of Human Rights
The emergence of human rights begins with the British Bill of Rights of 1688,
regarded as an early human rights instrument. It was followed by the well-known
Declaration of Independence and the Bill of Rights in America (1776) and the
Declaration des droits de l’homme et citoyen during the French Revolution (1789).
These documents set forth for the first time the principles that are recognizable as
propositions of modern human rights law. According to Sieghart (1990, p. 8), these
principles can be summarized as follows:
1. The principle of universal inherence: every human being has certain rights (. . .)
that are not conferred on him by any ruler, nor earned or acquired by purchase,
but which inhere in him by virtue of his humanity alone.
2. The principle of inalienability: no human being can be deprived of those rights
by the act of any ruler or even by his own act.
3. The rule of law: conflicts between rights must be resolved by the consistent,
independent, and impartial application of just laws in accordance with
procedures.
Although the major developments in human rights took place after
World War II, important principles of field were already established through
those documents from the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, which provided
a foundation for the developments after World War II. In 1948, the General
Assembly of the UN adopted the Universal Declaration of Human Rights
[Res/217 (III) of December 10, 1948]. It contains provisions of direct relevance to

children such as the right to special care and assistance (art. 25) and the right to
education (art. 26 on both access to and aims of education). While it is a nonbinding
instrument, the 1948 Declaration functioned as the key framework and source for
the development of two binding international treaties: the International Covenant
on Economic, Social, and Cultural Rights (ICESCR) and the International
Covenant on Civil and Political Rights (ICCPR).
During the drafting process for these two documents, a lack of political
consensus prevented the creation of one comprehensive human rights covenant.
After lengthy discussions it was decided that two separate treaties should be
drafted. In 1959 the drafts prepared by the UN Commission on Human Rights
were submitted to the Economic and Social Council of the UN and forwarded to the
Third Committee of the General Assembly, which was responsible for, among other
issues, human rights issues. Finally, in 1966 the General Assembly adopted the two
covenants, though it took another 10 years before they entered into force. (After the
ratification by 35 states, the International Covenant on Economic, Social, and
Cultural Rights entered into force on January 3, 1976. After ratification by 35 states,
the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights entered into force on
March 23, 1976.) The two covenants are applicable to all men and women without
any discrimination, meaning that, inter alia, the right to an adequate standard of
living, including adequate food, clothing, and housing; the right to the highest
attainable standard of health; the right to education (arts. 11, 12, and 13 ICESCR);
as well as the right to freedom of thought, conscience, and religion; the right of
expression; the right of peaceful assembly; and freedom of association (arts. 18, 19,
21, and 22 ICCPR) are applicable to children as well. Child-specific provisions
within the two covenants were limited to the right to protection and assistance
(art. 10 ICESCR and art. 24 ICCPR).
The principle of applicability to all children of the rights enshrined in the two
covenants left many questions unanswered. For instance, with regard to the right to
protection and assistance, what kind of measures should states take to protect
a child from all forms of violence and exploitation? The only more specific
provision can be found in article 10 of the ICESCR: States Parties should set age
limits below which paid employment of child labor should be prohibited and
punishable by law. However, the documents do not specify acceptable age limits
or conditions surrounding unpaid employment.
The Human Rights Committee, entrusted with monitoring the implementation
of the ICCPR, observed that States Parties often provide inadequate information
on the way in which the special protection of children is enacted (General
Comment No 17, 1989). The reports submitted by States Parties on this implemen-
tation of the covenant show that very little attention was given to not only the right
to protection and assistance, but also the enjoyment of other rights enshrined in the
covenants.
After 1976, the year the two covenants entered into force, there was apparently
a growing need to develop more specific international human rights treaties as
a complement to the two covenants. Activities reflecting this need resulted in the
192 J.E. Doek
adoption of the Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Discrimination

against Women in 1979 (UN General Assembly Resolution 34/180 of December
18, 1979) and the Convention against Torture and Other Cruel, Inhuman
and Degrading Treatment or Punishment in 1984 (UN General Assembly Resolu-
tion 39/46 of December 10, 1984). The Convention on the Rights of the
Child adopted in 1989 fits into this development of specifying international
human rights enshrined in the UDHR, ICCPR, and ICESCR, which together
are known as the International Bill of Human Rights. The key purpose of
these specifications was to improve the protection and implementation of the
human rights of specific vulnerable groups of people. This purpose is confirmed
by the more recent international human rights treaties regarding migrant
workers and their families (1990), persons with disabilities (2008), and forced
disappearances (2009).
In conclusion, in the context of human rights development, the CRC can
be considered an international instrument with the aim of strengthening, via
specification of existing human rights, including the introduction of new
elements (see below), the protection and implementation of the human rights of
children. Its complementary role is reflected in article 41 of the CRC which
states that provisions in international law in force for the state, such as the two
covenants, that are more conducive to the realization of the rights of the child
should be applied. The state may not deny or limit the implementation of a right in
other binding international (or regional) treaties because the CRC does not recog-
nize that right or recognizes it to a lesser extent (Detrick 1999, pp. 712–716). For
example, Article 2 ICCPR contains detailed provisions on the right to effective
remedy in case of violations of rights recognized in the ICCPR (see also art.
8 UDHR), while the CRC does not contain that right. However, a child in a state
that ratified both the ICCPR and the CRC can claim such remedy, for example, in
case her/his right to freedom of expression (art. 13) is violated. Additionally, article
38 CRC prohibits the recruitment and use of children below the age of 15.
Article 22 of the African Charter on the Rights and Welfare of the Child
(ACRWC) requires that States Parties shall take all necessary measures that no
child (any person below the age of 18) shall take direct part in hostilities and shall,
in particular, refrain from recruiting any child. An African state that has ratified
both the CRC and the ACRWC must apply the more comprehensive article 22 of
the ACRWC.
7.2.3 The Drafting, Adoption, and Ratification of the Convention
The history of the drafting of the Convention on the Rights of the Child has been
described in detail (Detrick 1992; Ek 2007; Le Blanc 1995). Therefore, I limit this
section to some key facts and main characteristics of the history.
The government of Poland chose to submit to the secretary-general of the UN
a proposal for a Convention on the Rights of the Child in 1978, with the intention
that it should be adopted in 1979 because 1979 had been declared the International
Year of the Child. The circulation of this proposal to member states of the UN met
with sympathy and support but also with some detailed criticism. The core of the
criticism was that a Convention of the Rights of the Child should be more than the
text of the 1959 Declaration. This led to the establishment by the UN Commission
on Human Rights of an open-ended working group on the question of a Convention
on the Rights of the Child. “Open-ended” meant that the representatives of the
43 state members of the Commission on Human Rights could participate as
members of the working group, while other member states could send observers
(with the right to take the floor). Nongovernmental organizations (NGOs) with
consultative status with ECOSOC could attend the meetings of the working group.
Although NGOs did not have the right to speak, their requests to participate in the
discussion were almost always granted. The working group started its activities in
1979, and in 1980 Poland submitted a revised draft that became the working
document of the group. Weeklong meetings on the topic took place every year at
the end of January, preceding a session of the Commission on Human Rights.
The working group operated on the basis of consensus. It meant that every text
and proposed amendments had to be discussed until all members of the group
agreed. This is one of the reasons that the drafting took so long. The other was the
political climate during the first years of the drafting as a result of the tensions
between the Western countries and the Communist countries during the cold war
between East and West. This climate improved significantly after 1985 following
Gorbatjov’s glasnost in the Soviet Union. After 1985, the slow pace of the first
years, during which only three or four articles were adopted per year and often in
incomplete form, changed and many more articles were adopted per session.
The impact of NGOs on the discussions increased when they established an ad
hoc group on the Convention of the Rights of the Child, which submitted many joint
proposals for articles to be included in the draft. In 1987, pressure on the working
group increased due to public promotion by the NGOs’ group and UNICEF to have
the final draft ready by 1989 in order to allow its adoption by the UN General
Assembly 10 years after the International Year of the Child. Extra meetings of the
working group in 1988 succeeded in producing a final draft text of the Convention
on the Rights of the Child which was unanimously adopted by the UN General
Assembly on November 20, 1989, 30 years after the adoption of the 1959
Declaration. This unanimous adoption was possible thanks to the fact that the
working group had operated on the basis of consensus. The downside of this
consensus approach was that certain proposals were abandoned despite the support
of a clear majority. For instance, consensus could not be achieved on the text of
a proposal placing severe limitations on medical experimentation with the involve-
ment of children. This also happened with a proposal to include an article on the
protection of children born out of wedlock (Ek 2007, pp. 601–602, 887–889).
The CRC is a unique human rights treaty, not only because of its content
(see below) but also because it is the most ratified human rights treaty in the history
of human rights. The CRC entered into force on September 2, 1990 after being
ratified by first 20 states; there has so far never been a human rights treaty that
entered into force within a year after its adoption by the UN General Assembly.
194 J.E. Doek
At the end of September 1990, a world summit on children took place, organized
by UNICEF and attended by more than 60 heads of state. It was very instrumental in
maintaining the momentum created by the adoption of the CRC and its rapid
entering into force. The number of ratifications increased rapidly, and today
193 states are parties to the CRC. Only Somalia, the recently established state of
South Sudan, and the United States have not ratified the CRC (for more on obstacles
to ratification by the USA, see Todres et al. 2006).
7.3 Content of the CRC and Its Optional Protocols: A Summary
7.3.1 Some General Observations
The most important feature of the CRC is that it contains both civil and political
rights and economic, social, and cultural rights in one document (for more
information, see Vuckovic et al. 2012). This is an especially unique achievement
given the failed attempt to draft, as a follow-up to the Universal Declaration of
Human Rights, one international covenant comprising both sets of human rights.
The CRC does not explicitly state which of the rights described belong to one or the
other sets of rights, though one can use the Covenants on Civil and Political Rights
and on Economic, Social, and Cultural Rights to determine into which group a CRC
right falls. For instance, several rights enshrined in the Covenant on Economic,
Social, and Cultural Rights also appear in the CRC, such as the right to health,
education, and an adequate standard of living. In addition, the CRC Committee has
labeled a number of provisions of the CRC as “civil rights and freedom.” Still, there
is not an authoritative definition of the two sets of rights to allow one to decide
which right belongs to which set of rights. Different views and interpretations of
specific articles do exist, while some articles may have elements of both sets.
For instance, article 40 of the CRC on the treatment of children in conflict with
the penal law (aka juvenile delinquents) contains rules that clearly belong to the
set of civil and political rights (much of art. 40, para. 2 can also be found in art.
14 and 15 ICPPR), while provisions on social reintegration and the possible
measures to achieve that (art. 40, para. 1 and para. 3) can be considered social
rights. While the distinction has some practical value, the two sets of human rights
are indivisible and interrelated. Freedom from fear and want can be achieved only if
conditions are created whereby everyone may enjoy his civil and political rights as
well as his economic, social, and cultural rights (Preamble of the ICCPR). A child
who lacks access to education will have serious problems with exercising their right
to freedom of expression. The right to education or to an adequate standard of living
requires that the inherent right to life of every child be fully implemented.
Additionally, the distinction must not be used to suggest a hierarchy of rights: all
are equally important.
However, the distinction between the two sets of rights does have implications
for their implementation, because states that have ratified each covenant
are obligated to implement the rights described by the covenant. States that have
ratified the ICESCR are obligated to implement the rights described in that cove-
nant, using to the maximum extent their available resources with a view to
progressively achieving the full realization of these rights (art. 2 ICESCR).
A similar provision can be found in article 4 of the CRC, though it does not mention
explicitly the progressive realization of the child’s economic, social, and cultural
rights. However, the aim of achieving progressively the full realization is explicitly
mentioned in article 24 (right to health) and article 28 (right to education). We may
therefore assume that the overall obligation to achieve progressively the realization
of economic, social, and cultural rights also applies to these rights as enshrined in
the CRC.
The 1948 Universal Declaration of Human Right states that everyone has
the right to an effective remedy for acts violating their fundamental human rights
(art. 8). The CRC does not contain a provision explicitly providing children with the
right to such an effective remedy (see also para. 2.2). Children in their respective
countries should be provided with effective remedies as well as have the right to
seek effective remedies at the international level. For that reason a Third Optional
Protocol has been drafted and was adopted by the UN General Assembly on
December 19, 2011 (described below).
7.3.2 Content of the CRC
After the Preamble, part I of the CRC presents 41 substantive articles regarding the
human rights of children. Part II (articles 42–45) sets the rules for the establishment
of a committee for the purpose of examining the progress made by States Parties in
the implementation of the rights of the child, including their obligation to regularly
submit reports on this progress to the committee. Part III (articles 46–54) deals with
technical legal matters such as rules for ratification, entering into force, the possi-
bility to make reservations (full or partial nonimplementation of one or more
articles of the CRC), and the rules for amending the convention. Part I, which
contains the rights of the child, does not have a systematic or thematic structure that
divides rights into categories. Its structure reflects the indivisibility and interlinkage
of all human rights of children. However, for the purpose of effective reporting by
States Parties, the CRC Committee (Reporting Guidelines 2010) has recommended
grouping the articles of the CRC into eight clusters. Reports of States Parties
submitted to the committee (art. 44 CRC) should be structured in line with these
clusters. These clusters are also a useful reference when discussing more
specifically the child’s well-being from a rights perspective. A description of the
clusters follows (Reporting Guidelines 2010).
7.3.2.1 Cluster I: General Measures of Implementation

[Articles 4, 42, and 44(6) CRC]
In this cluster, States Parties should present information on the overall infrastructure
for the implementation of the CRC, inter alia, legislative measures, national policies
and programs, coordination of activities, allocation of resources (both financial and
196 J.E. Doek
human), data collection, independent institutions for monitoring children’s rights

implementation (e.g., children’s ombudsperson; Gran 2011), cooperation with
NGOs, dissemination of information on the CRC, and training of all relevant pro-
fessionals and civil servants (for more information see GC No. 5, 2003).
7.3.2.2 Cluster II: The Definition of the Child (Article 1 CRC)

A “child” means every human being below the age of 18 years, unless the child,
under the applicable national law, attains majority earlier. In quite a number of
countries, the marriage of a person below the age of 18 results in a person being
considered to have attained majority with the full legal capacity of a person 18 years
or older. It should be noted that article 1 defines the end of childhood but not the
beginning. The definition of the beginning has been a matter of lengthy discussions
in the working group. A first proposal defined the child as “every human being from
the moment of his birth.” However, some state representatives wanted to include in
the definition the entire period from the moment of conception. A problem with this
was the text of paragraph 9 of the Preamble of the CRC: “the child, by reason of his
physical and mental immaturity, needs special safeguards and care, including legal
protection before as well as after birth.” The discussion was concluded with the
following statement: “In adopting this paragraph of the Preamble, the Working
Group does not intend to prejudice the interpretation of article 1 or any other
provision of the Convention by States Parties.” In other words, the CRC is silent
on the matter of abortion. States Parties to the CRC are free to adopt whatever
position they wish on the right to life of the fetus or unborn child (Detrick 1999,
pp. 53–57, 133–136).
Under this cluster, States Parties are expected to provide information on specific
minimum ages, for example, for the use of alcohol or tobacco and for making
independent decisions in health matters.
The “definition” of a child is specific to the CRC, meaning that wherever in the
text the term “child” is used, the related provision is applicable to every human being
below the age of 18, but it does not mean that we must use the term “child” for every
person below 18. The term “adolescent” or “juvenile” may give a more accurate
image of a 16- or 17-year-old person. It is therefore fully acceptable, as in Spanish-
speaking countries, to use two terms, such as ninos/ninas and adolescentes, for the
group of persons below the age of 18 (Cantwell 2011, pp. 43–47).
7.3.2.3 Cluster III: General Principles (Articles 2, 3, 6, and 12)

The CRC Committee identified four articles as the General Principles of the CRC.
The committee did not explain why these articles should be considered the General
Principles or what this qualification means. The term suggests that these articles
should be used and/or taken into account with any of the other articles of the CRC.
However, it is not clear whether that is equally feasible or gives added value to each
of these principles. The committee should clarify how each article should be used in
relation to other articles of the CRC (Doek 2008). Simply put, the General
Principles are rights and not just guiding values that should be taken into account
(or may be limited in practice).
Article 2 imposes on States Parties the obligation to respect and ensure the CRC
rights of each child within their jurisdiction without discrimination of any kind.
This article on nondiscrimination was the first in a human rights treaty that
explicitly mentioned “disability” as a prohibited ground for discrimination.
Article 3 states that in all actions concerning children, the best interest of the
child shall be a primary consideration. This principle may seem to be quite
acceptable at face value. However, its practical use has been subject of many
debates before it appeared in the CRC. The article was criticized because of its
indeterminate, unjust, and self-defeating nature and its liability to be overridden by
more general policy considerations (Elster 1987). A recent example of this liability
is the way in which the Dutch government deals with refugee or asylum-seeking
children and their families. It is unclear whether it is in the best interest of a child
who lived in the Netherlands for more than 8 years to be returned to the country of
origin of his parents, a country completely strange to him, or should it be just
“a primary consideration” and overridden by the general immigration policy. Those
who are willing to take the principle seriously must determine who decides what is
in the best interest of the child and how the best interest is determined either in
policies or in individual decisions (Zermatten 2010).
Two fundamental problems have to be addressed: how to predict the consequences
of a policy or decision and its alternatives and which criteria should be used to
evaluate the alternatives’ consequences (Mnookin 1985). Eekelaar (1994) suggests
developing an understanding of the child’s best interests using two methods: objec-
tivity and dynamic self-determination. Objectivity is a process in which a decision
maker (judge or legislator) derives her/his views on what is deemed to be the best
interest of the child from results of research or from claims of child welfare pro-
fessionals. For example, disruption of attachment at an early stage of bonding will
have serious negative effects on the child’s development (Bowlby 1965), and there-
fore, children below the age of 3 should not be placed in institutional care (Brown
2009; Guidelines for the Alternative Care of Children 2010, para. 22). In another
example, contact of a child with an absent parent would be damaging to the child if
that contact is not approved by the caregiving parent (Goldstein et al. 1996).
However, despite the importance of objective criteria in determining the best interest
of the child, social beliefs continue to play a role, such as the belief that a baby is
better off with the mother than with the father who has a nanny or that it is better to
grow up with the father than with his mother and a stepfather. The possibility of
making objective assessments is important but their reliability is difficult to deter-
mine. Even when a consensus exists about the values that should determine whether
a decision can be considered in the best interest of the child, many factors, such as the
personality of the child, can play a role in making the decision not in the best interest
of a particular child. Traditionally, the question “what is actually in the best interest of
the child?” is answered by adults. The greatest danger of objectivization is that it can
be a vehicle for furthering the interests or ideologies of others rather than the interests
of the child (Eekelaar 1994).
Eekelaar attempts to remedy this danger by adding to objectivization the concept
of dynamic self-determination. This concept recognizes the importance of input from
198 J.E. Doek
the child in the assessment of her/his best interests. As the child develops increasing
capacities, shifting dynamics may require a revision of the assessment, for example,
contact with the other parent or placement in an institution. The concept can be
considered fully in line with article 12 of the CRC regarding the right of the child to
express their views, the right to have them taken into account, and the importance of
the developing capacities of the child as a factor in independently exercising rights
(art. 5 and art. 14 CRC). Although this concept seems to be applicable to individual
cases in particular, it is also useful in matters of policy development and legislation.
As has been demonstrated here, the General Principle of the best interest of
the child is a complex one (see Freeman 2008 for a full commentary on article 3).
The implementation of this principle most likely will differ depending on specific
aspects of an individual case and also on local traditions and culture regarding the role
of the extended family and the different social, political, and economic conditions in
the child’s country (various chapters in Alston 1994; Breen 2002). However, the
meaning of “best interest” is not as indeterminate as some critics suggest. The
CRC provides 193 states with a broad framework of values via the formulation of
the rights of the child and obligations of states, signposts that should guide decision/
policy makers to identify what is in the best interest of the child (Alston 1994, p. 19).
Article 6 first repeats perhaps the most fundamental human right: every
child has the inherent right to life (see also, e.g., art. 3 UDHR and art. 6 ICCPR).
The importance of this right is underscored by the rule that derogation of
this right is not permissible under any condition, even in times of crisis (art. 6,
para. 2 ICCPR). According to the Human Rights Committee, the right to life makes
it desirable for States Parties to take all possible measures to reduce infant mortality
and increase life expectancy, especially by adopting measures to eliminate malnu-
trition and epidemics (GC No. 6 2005). This broader concept of the right to life is
reflected in paragraph 2 of article 6: “States Parties shall ensure to the maximum
extent possible the survival and development of the child.” The qualifying phrase
“to the maximum extent possible” was inserted to indicate that economic, social,
and cultural conditions could be taken into account by States Parties when
implementing their positive obligation to ensure the rights of the child to survival
and development (see also art. 4 CRC).
Article 12, known as the right to be heard, provides the child with the right
to express their own views freely in all matters affecting the child, but only if the
child is capable of forming her or his own views. The CRC Committee is of the
opinion that this phrase should not be used as a limitation but should be seen as
an obligation for States Parties to assess the child’s capacity to form her or his own
views. Research shows that the child is capable of forming views at a young age, even
when he or she may be unable to express them verbally (Lansdown 2005).
Article 12 requires the recognition of and respect for nonverbal forms of
communication such as play, drawing and painting, body language, and facial expres-
sions through which very young children demonstrate understanding, choices, and
preferences (GC No 7, 2005). Children with disabilities should be provided with and
enabled to use any mode of communication necessary to facilitate the expression of
their views (GC No. 12 2009, para. 21).
The right to express views freely means that the child must not be manipulated or
subjected to undue influence or pressure. The phrase “in all matters affecting the
child” should not be limited to individual cases but be given a broader
meaning. Children should be provided with meaningful and accessible opportuni-
ties to express their views at the local and national level on measures affecting them
(GC No. 12 2009, para. 22–27). The views of the child must be “given due weight in
accordance with the age and maturity.” Listening to the child is not enough;
the convention states that “her or his views must be considered seriously.
The level of weight given to the views of a child should not be determined by
a biological age only, but her or his ability to understand and assess the implications
of a particular matter should be a factor as well” (GC No. 12 2009, para. 28–30).
In this regard the CRC Committee encouraged States Parties to introduce
legislative measures requiring decision makers in judicial or administrative
proceedings to explain the extent of consideration given to the views of the child
(GC No. 12 2009, para. 33). Paragraph 2 of article 12 draws special attention to the
implementation of the right to express views in judicial and administrative
proceedings directly or via a representative. In General Comment No. 12 (2009),
the CRC Committee provides specific recommendations for the implementation of
the right to be heard in civil judicial proceedings (e.g., divorce, separation from
parents, alternative care, adoption), penal judicial proceedings either as an alleged
offender or as a victim or witness, and administrative proceedings (para. 48–67).
The right to be heard should also be respected and implemented in the family
setting, institutions for alternative care, health care, school or other educational
facilities, the workplace, and violent and/or emerging situations (GC No. 12 2009,
para. 89–131, with detailed observations and recommendations). In conclusion and
according to the CRC Committee, all processes in which a child or children are
heard must be transparent, informative, voluntary, respectful, child-friendly,
relevant, inclusive, supported by training, safe, sensitive to risk, and accountable
(GC No. 12 2009, para. 134).
7.3.2.4 Cluster IV: Civil Rights and Freedoms

[Articles 7, 8, 13, 17, and 37(a)]
The title of this cluster indicates that these rights should be fully respected and
implemented immediately. A lack of resources is not an acceptable excuse.
Article 7 states that the child has the right to be registered immediately after
birth. While this may sound like a trivial administrative matter, it is not. In many
situations, such as armed conflicts, natural disaster, asylum seeking, and criminal
responsibility, the protection of a child depends to a large degree on the availability
of a date and place of birth. Without birth registration a child does not count; it
cannot be included in the official statistics used as basic information for
governmental policies and budget allocations. Furthermore, the child has the right
from birth to a name (last name and first/given) and the right to a nationality. The
latter is linked to proper birth registration. In the jus soli system, one acquires the
nationality of the state in which he/she was born. With the jus sanguinis system,
a child’s nationality at birth is the same as that of his/her natural parents, whose
200 J.E. Doek
names and nationalities are indicated on the birth registration (there are some
exceptions). The importance of a nationality is pointed out in paragraph 2 of article
7 which requires States Parties to ensure the implementation of these rights,
particularly with regard to children who would otherwise be stateless. States Parties
must take every appropriate measure, via domestic law and/or international
cooperation with other states, to ensure that every child has a nationality. Stateless
children often suffer from lack of health care or education and lack of protection.
Finally, the child has the right to know and to be cared for by her or his parents, as
far as possible (for further discussion of this right, see hereafter para in Sect. 7.4.3).
Article 8 contains a unique provision that is unknown in any other human rights
treaty: the right of the child to preserve her or his identity, which includes nation-
ality, name, and family relations (as recognized by law). If a child is deprived of
some or all the elements of her or his identity, the state must provide appropriate
assistance and protection for a speedy reestablishment of the child’s identity. The
proposal for this article was submitted to the working group by the delegation from
Argentina and inspired by the enforced and involuntary disappearances of children
and adults during the military junta in the 1970s in that country. After considerable
debate regarding the concept of identity, which is not necessarily limited to the
elements mentioned in article 8 (Hodgson 1993), the article was adopted (Detrick
1999, pp. 159–165). It is an important legal tool for the ongoing efforts of the
Grandmothers of the Plaza de Mayo to identify and locate the missing children,
many of whom turned out to be adopted in Argentina or abroad (for more infor-
mation on the activities of this group, see Arditti 1999).
Articles 13–17 contain many of the traditional civil and political rights which
also can be found in the Covenant on Civil and Political Rights, including the right
to freedom of expression (art. 13); the right to freedom of thought, conscience, and
religion (art. 14); the right to freedom of association and peaceful assembly
(art. 15); the right to protection of privacy, family, home, and correspondence
(art. 16); and the right to access information (art. 17).
The right to freedom of expression should be distinguished from the right to
express views in article 12. The latter is limited to matters affecting the child and
requires specific legislative or other measures to ensure that this right is fully
implemented, particularly in legal and other decision-making procedures on matters
affecting the child. The right to freedom of expression allows the child to express
views on all kinds of issues, regardless of whether they may have an effect on the
child’s life. However, in contrast to article 12, freedom of expression can be subject
to restrictions if necessary for the protection of the rights and reputation of others or
for the protection of national security, public order, health, or morals.
Article 37(a) repeats the full and absolute prohibition of torture or other
cruel, inhuman, and degrading treatment or punishment (see also art. 7 ICCPR
and the Convention against Torture). The CRC Committee is of the opinion that this
provision includes the prohibition of corporal punishment in all settings
(institutions, schools, families), a view supported by other human rights bodies,
including the European and Inter-American Courts of Human Rights. The commit-
tee also provides specific recommendations for the implementation of this
prohibition via legislative measures, public campaigns promoting nonviolent

forms of disciplining a child, and training of teachers and other professionals
(GC No. 8 2006).
Furthermore, article 37(a) prohibits capital punishment and life imprisonment
without the possibility of release for offenses committed by persons below the age
of 18. The Supreme Court of the United States made reference to this article, which
binds 193 states, in its decision that the death penalty for offenses committed by
a person below the age of 18 is forbidden by the 8th and 14th Amendments to
the US Constitution and thus is unconstitutional (Roper vs. Simmons 2005).
The CRC Committee strongly recommends States Parties to abolish all forms
of life imprisonment for offenses committed by persons under the age of 18,
because such imprisonment, even with the possibility of release (often only after
having served 20 years or more), will make it very difficult, if not impossible, to
achieve the aims of juvenile justice spelled out in article 40, para. 1 (GC No. 10
2007, para. 77).
7.3.2.5 Cluster V: Family Environment and Alternative Care (Articles 5,

9, 11, 18–21, 25, 27, and 39)
The large number of articles included in this cluster reflects the importance of the
family environment for the child. The concept of the rights of the child, and thus the
Convention, has been criticized because it undermines the role, responsibilities, and
authority of the parents (Kilbourne 1998). However, the CRC is the only interna-
tional human rights treaty that requires States Parties not only to respect the
responsibilities, rights, and duties of parents (and other categories) and to ensure
the recognition of common responsibilities of parents for the upbringing and
development of the child but also to provide them with appropriate assistance,
including material support, in the performance of their child-rearing responsibilities
(art. 5, 18, and 27).
7.3.2.6 Cluster VI: Basic Health and Welfare

(Articles 6, 18, 23, 24, 26, and 27)
This cluster deals with the right of the child to the highest attainable standard of
health (shortened to “the right to health”), the rights of children with disabilities
(art. 23), the right of the child to benefit from social security and social insurance
(art. 26), and the right to a standard of living adequate for the child’s physical,
mental, spiritual, moral, and social development (art. 27). These provisions and
their importance with respect to the child’s well-being are discussed later in this
chapter.
7.3.2.7 Cluster VII: Education, Leisure, and Cultural Activities

(Articles 28, 29, and 31)
This cluster covers the right of the child to education (art. 28), the aims
of education (art. 29), and the right of the child to rest and leisure, to engage in
play and recreational activities, and to participate freely in cultural life and the
arts (art. 31).
202 J.E. Doek
7.3.2.8 Cluster VIII: Special Protection Measures (Articles 22, 30, 32–36,
37b–d, and 38–40)
The many articles included in this cluster reflect and confirm the fact that the
protection of the child in various circumstances against abuse, violence, and
exploitation is an important element of the CRC. This cluster deals with the
protection of refugee children (art. 22) and children belonging to minorities
(art. 30); protection from economic exploitation (art. 32); protection from illicit
use of drugs, sexual exploitation, sale and trafficking, and all other forms of
exploitation (art. 33–36); protection from involvement in armed conflict (art. 38);
and protection of children in conflict with the penal law (art. 37b–d and 40).
7.3.3 Optional Protocols to the CRC
Part of the development of human rights was the adoption of so-called Optional
Protocols. Most of these protocols established a special procedure for submitting
complaints regarding violations of human rights. These procedures would allow
citizens to seek remedies for these violations, and they are intended to complement
the remedies available at the national level (See the optional protocols to the ICCPR
1966 (UN Treaty Service Vol. 999, p. 171), the CEDAW 1999 (UN Doc. A/RES/
54/4), the ICESCR 2008 (UN Doc. A/RES/63/435), and the CRPD 2006 (UN DOC.
A/RES/61/106).). The term “optional” indicates that States Parties to a human
rights treaty are not automatically bound by an optional protocol adopted for that
treaty. A state is bound by a protocol only if it chooses to ratify it, meaning that
persons under its jurisdiction can submit a complaint about a violation of a right by
the state (an organ or an official of the state).
For the CRC three Optional Protocols have been adopted by the UN General
Assembly so far:
• Optional Protocol on the Involvement of Children in Armed Conflict (OPAC)
(adopted on May 25, 2000 (UN Doc. A/RES/54/263), in force since February 12,
2002, and ratified by 150 states)
• Optional Protocol on the Sale of Children, Child Prostitution, and Child
Pornography (OPSC) (adopted on May 25, 2000 (UN Doc. A/RES/54/263), in
force since January 18, 2002, and ratified by 161 states)
• Optional Protocol Providing for a Communications Procedure (OPCP) (adopted
on December 19, 2011 (UN Doc. A/RES/66/138), not yet entered into force)
The first two are quite unique in the world of human rights treaties because they
raise the standards in the CRC (OPAC) and elaborate on the rather general
provisions in the CRC for the protection of children against sexual exploitation
(OPSC). Currently, an international campaign is being conducted for the universal
ratification of both optional protocols (for more information, see Coomaraswamy
(2010) for OPAC and Pais (2010) for OPSC).
The OPAC sets the minimum age for participation in hostilities at 18, increasing
the standard of 15 years set in article 38 CRC (art. 2). Furthermore, the compulsory
recruitment of persons below the age of 18 is prohibited, while for voluntary
recruitment the minimum age must to be at least 16, though these recruits cannot
take part in hostilities until age 18 (art. 3). These rules apply for the armed forces of
the State Party to OPAC. For nonstate armed groups, such as rebel groups and
militias, the OPAC is even stricter: they should not under any circumstance recruit
or use persons under the age of 18 (art. 4).
The OPAC also requires States Parties to take all feasible measures for the
demobilization, the physical and psychological recovery, and the social reintegra-
tion of children who were recruited and used in hostilities, contrary to the rules of
OPAC. It should be noted that the OPAC does not contain specific provisions for
the protection of all other child victims of armed conflict. The OPAC has been
ratified by 151 states, including the United States, the only State Party to OPAC that
did not ratify the CRC. This is made possible thanks to art. 9 OPAC which states
that the protocol can be ratified by any state that is a party to the CRC or has signed
it. The last part was included due to the very strong input of the USA. In accordance
with art. 8 OPAC, the US reports regularly to the CRC Committee on the
implementation of the OPAC. For more information on reporting obligations,
international cooperation, and the idea of establishing an international voluntary
fund for the support of child victims of armed conflict, see the Guide to OPAC
(UNICEF 2003) and Doek (2011b)).
The OPSC can be considered an elaboration of articles 34 and 35 of the CRC on
the protection of children from all forms of sexual exploitation and the prevention
of the abduction, the sale of, or the trafficking of children. The OPSC provides
definitions of the sale of children, child prostitution, and child pornography (art. 2)
and the acts and activities, whether committed domestically or transnationally and
on an individual or an organized basis, which a State Party to OPSC must
criminalize (art. 3). The State Party should establish both the legal liability of
persons for the offenses and extraterritorial jurisdiction over these types of offenses
(art. 4). The latter means that the state establishes the authority to prosecute an
offender who is a national of the state or a habitual resident of that state, regardless
of where this person committed the offense. It also means that the state can
prosecute the offender, regardless of his nationality or the location of the offense,
if the victim is a national of that state.
Article 8 contains important provisions for the protection of child victims
who become involved in criminal law proceedings as witnesses. Article 9 details
the obligations of States Parties to promote awareness and training programs,
such as those for professionals working with child victims, in order to support
the full social reintegration and physical and psychological recovery of child
victims and their access to adequate procedures to seek compensation
for the damages they suffered from the persons legally responsible (for
more information see, e.g., the Handbook on OPSC (UNICEF 2009)). The
OPSC has been ratified by 163 states, including the USA, which is not a party to
the CRC. (This was possible thanks to a provision in art. 13 OPSC similar to art. 9
OPAC).
The OPCP is an important tool for ensuring full respect for an effective imple-
mentation of the rights of the child. In case of violations of these rights,
204 J.E. Doek
States Parties are obligated to provide adequate procedures for remedies that are
accessible also for children. However, in many countries there are no procedures for
children to access or they produce disappointing results, often after very long
processes. It is therefore necessary to provide, as a complement to (the lack of)
national remedies, an international means to file a complaint about violations of the
rights of the child. The OPCP fulfills this role.
Children or their representatives can file a complaint with the CRC Committee
about the violations of their rights. Complaints can be filed individually or as
a group. The complaint has to be submitted in writing and must state the name(s)
of the child or children. The CRC Committee will not deal with anonymous
complaints. The child victim of a violation of her/his rights can submit
a complaint after he/she has reached the age of 18 years. However, it has to be
done within a year after the violation took place, with some exceptions. The
complaint will then be sent to the state accused of the violation, with a request
for a response. All the relevant information regarding the complaint will be dealt
with by the CRC Committee in closed sessions. This process will result in recom-
mendations to the State Party concerned for addressing the violation, which may
include adequate compensation.
This new Optional Protocol was subject to extensive debate in the Human Rights
Council (Lee 2010). The OPCP has been open for ratification since March 2012 and
will enter into force after the tenth ratification. As of this writing Gabon and
Thailand have ratified it.
7.3.4 The Role of the Committee on the Rights of the Child

(CRC Committee)
The first and most important task of the CRC Committee is to monitor the
implementation of the CRC in all States Parties. To allow the committee to perform
this task, States Parties have to report regularly on the measures they have taken to
put into effect the rights recognized in the CRC, including information on
the progress made and the difficulties encountered (art. 43 CRC). In addition to
these governmental reports, the CRC Committee receives reports from national and
international NGOs and UN agencies, in particular UNICEF, which complement
the information provided by the government. Based on this and other information
collected by the secretariat of the committee, the committee has a discussion with
a delegation of the State Party during a daylong, public question-and-answer
session. After this discussion, the committee issues its concluding observations
that contain its recognition of progress achieved, its concerns, and its specific
recommendation for further action to be taken by the government of the state
concerned.
Although the recommendations are nonbinding, governments do usually
follow some or most of the recommendations. If necessary, national NGOs,
UN agencies, and parliaments put pressure on the governments to implement
the committee’s recommendations. In addition to the country-specific
recommendations, the CRC Committee provides the States Parties with guidance
and recommendations regarding the implementation of the CRC via annual Days of
General Discussion and the publication of General Comments. Days of General
Discussion have resulted in, for example, an international UN Study on Children
in Armed Conflict (1996) and a UN Study on Violence against Children (2006).
The Study on Children in Armed Conflict was followed by the adoption
of the OPAC by the UN General Assembly and the appointment in 1997 by
the UN secretary-general of a special representative on children and armed
conflict, while the Study on Violence against Children (2006) resulted in
the appointment in 2009 by the UN secretary-general of a special representative
on violence against children (for more information, see Doek 2009).
Since the beginning of twenty-first century, General Comments have
provided States Parties with interpretation and recommendations for implementa-
tion of the CRC for children affected or infected by HIV/AIDS, children who are
refugees and or seeking asylum, very young children, adolescents, children
belonging to indigenous people, children with disabilities, and children in conflict
with the penal law, among others. Everyone, not only governmental officials, who
is involved in the care or protection of children who are covered by a General
Comment, should read it and other GCs carefully to become familiar with
a children’s rights perspective and approach.
Finally, the committee has 18 members who are elected by the
193 States Parties. They serve for a 4-year term and can be reelected. Every State
Party can submit one of its citizens as a candidate for the committee (no other
candidates are possible). The committee meets in Geneva three times every year for
4 weeks. Members do not receive an honorarium except a symbolic one US dollar
per year, but the costs of travel and accommodations are covered (for more
information, see art. 43 CRC). The Committee is facing a lot of challenges, e.g.,
the considerable backlog of reports of States Parties waiting for an examination
(Doek 2011a).
7.4 The Well-Being of the Child from a Child Rights

Perspective
7.4.1 Introduction
There are various concepts and definitions of (child) well-being (Camfield 2009),
but it goes beyond the purpose of this chapter to give an analytical overview of all
the existing views of these concepts and definitions. One may argue that its meaning
and content fluctuate, depending on who is using the term and why (Camfield 2009,
p. 67). From the child rights perspective, I agree with Bradshaw that a child’s well-
being can be defined as the realization of the child’s rights and the fulfillment of the
opportunity for the child to be all he or she can be in light of the child’s abilities,
potential, and skills. Over the last 20 years, a wide variety of research has been
carried out to assess and/or contribute to the understanding of child well-being via
206 J.E. Doek
national and international surveys. For example, the widely reported on Innocenti
Research Centre’s report card compared the well-being of children in the 21 OECD
countries (UNICEF 2007) by exploring children’s understanding of well-being via
participatory methods and investigating factors that influence well-being via
longitudinal studies (Camfield 2009, pp. 76–89).
The objective of this section is to give some examples of how the realization
of children’s rights can contribute to their well-being, with a specific focus on
the CRC as described above. First I discuss the empowerment role of the CRC as an
important contribution to the child’s well-being through the right to be heard.
This is followed by observations about the support in the CRC for parents and
family as the crucial environment for the child’s well-being. Next, the importance
of the social and cultural rights in the CRC as tools for creating conditions
for the child’s well-being is discussed. Finally, I discuss the right to protection
and the provision of tools for intervention in cases where the child’s well-being is
at risk.
7.4.2 The Right to Express Views and to be Heard
A rather common perception of the CRC is that it is an international legal instru-

ment for the protection of children as human beings who are vulnerable to neglect,
abuse, and exploitation. However, the CRC is much more as it recognizes the child
as a person with evolving capacities (art. 5), with an identity (name, nationality, and
family; art. 7 and art. 8), and with civil rights and freedoms (art. 13–16). One of the
General Principles of the CRC identified by the CRC Committee is the right of the
child to express her or his views and have them taken into account (see discussion
above in Cluster III about article 12, the right to be heard). This right implies an
active and growing participation of the child, linked to her or his evolving capac-
ities, in all matters affecting her or him. As the CRC Committee observed, article 12
is the lynchpin with respect to the development of child participation (GC No. 12
2009, para. 16).
Although the CRC does not contain a provision explicitly providing for the right
to participation, it became an inherent part of the implementation of all its articles.
(The only articles with a reference to participation are article 23, which recognizes
that a disabled child should enjoy a full and decent life in conditions which (. . .)
facilitate the child’s active participation in the community, and article 31, which
recognizes the right of the child to participate freely in cultural life and the arts.)
This explains why it became common to categorize the rights of the CRC with the
well-known three P’s: provision, protection, and participation (for critical
comments on this categorization, see Quennerstedt 2010). The importance of
child participation has been recognized by all member states of the UN via the
document “A World Fit for Children,” which was adopted in 2002 by the General
Assembly at its special session on the rights of the child. In this document the
member states committed themselves to “develop and implement programmes to
promote meaningful participation by children in decision-making processes,
including in families and schools and at the local and national levels” (A/RES/
67/42, para. 32, subpara. 1).
In its General Comment No. 12 on the right of the child to be heard (art. 12
CRC), the CRC Committee explained to the States Parties how the article should be
interpreted and provided detailed recommendations for the implementation of this
right in the family; in alternative care; in health care, education, and the workplace;
and in a number of specific situations and proceedings. Examples of recommenda-
tions in these areas are as follows:
• Family: In order to develop respect for the child’s right to be heard, States Parties
should promote parent education programs that address the involvement of
children in decision-making; the implications of giving due weight to the
views of the child; the understanding, promotion, and respect for the child’s
evolving capacities; and ways of dealing with conflicting views in the family
(GC No. 12 2009, para. 93 and 94).
• Alternative care: The child placed in alternative care (foster care, residential
care) by law must be provided with information about the care and/or treatment
plan and with a meaningful opportunity to express her or his views and ensure
that these views are taken into account throughout the decision-making
processes in alternative care. A representative council of children should be
established in residential facilities with the mandate to participate in the
development and implementation of the policy and rules of the institution
(GC No. 12 2009, para. 97).
• Health care: Legal provisions should be introduced to ensure that children have
access to confidential medical counseling and advice without parental consent
irrespective of the child’s age when this is needed for the child’s safety or
well-being. Fixed ages should be set by law at which the right to consent to
a medical treatment transfers to the child. Furthermore, States Parties should
introduce measures that enable children to contribute their views and experi-
ences to the planning and programming of services for their health and devel-
opment (GC No. 12 2009, para. 101 and 102). With respect to HIV/AIDS in
particular, children have a right to participate, in accordance with their evolving
capacities, in raising awareness about HIV/AIDS by speaking out about its
impact on their lives, and in the development of HIV/AIDS policies and pro-
grams. In this regard the participation of children as peer educators inside and
outside schools should be actively promoted (GC No. 3 2003, para. 10).
• Education: States Parties should promote in all educational settings the active
role of children in a participatory learning environment. The CRC Committee
considers children’s participation indispensable for the creation of a social
climate in the classroom, which stimulates the cooperation and mutual support
needed for child-centered interactive learning. Giving due weight to children’s
views is particularly important in the elimination of discrimination and the
prevention of bullying. Participation of children in decision-making processes
about the development and implementation of school policies and codes of
behavior should be achieved via class councils, student councils, and represen-
tation on school boards (GC No. 12 2009, para. 107, 109, 110).
208 J.E. Doek
• Situations of violence: States Parties are encouraged to consult with children in

the development and implementation of legislative, policy, educational, and
other measures to address all forms of violence. Particular attention needs to
be paid to ensure that marginalized and disadvantaged children, such as
exploited children, street children, or refugee children, are not excluded from
consultative processes designed to elicit views on relevant legislation and policy
processes (GC No. 12 2009, para. 118).
In conclusion, the child is recognized as a person who not only can have views but
also has the right to express them freely and have them taken into account. The CRC
protects the child’s right to actively participate in all matters that affect them, in
accordance with their evolving capacities. This recognition contributes to the well-
being of the child because it encourages and promotes the development of skills of
engagement in both individual and collective decision-making processes. It also can
contribute to the child’s ability to understand and deal with possible conflicting
interests at the individual level of the family and the collective level of the school
or the community. Finally, the recognition of a child’s right to be heard may
strengthen the child’s sense of self-worth, self-esteem, and empowerment.
The skills and abilities developed in the implementation of the right to be heard
and to participate should be linked to the civil rights and freedoms of the child
(art. 13–16 CRC). For instance, the exercise of the right to freedom of expression
(art. 13) can benefit from the experiences of the child in expressing her or his views
in the setting of the family, the school, or the institution. This right is not limited to
matters concerning the child and allows the child to participate in the discussion of
a wide array of social, political, and other issues. Furthermore, article 15,
which covers the right to freedom of association and peaceful assembly, provides
the child with the possibility to organize with other children and create tools for
collective actions via meetings or by establishing an organization with a view to
strengthen their active participation in matters of their interest.
There is a wealth of reports, guidelines, and articles on child participation
(e.g., The International Journal of Children’s Rights Special Issue, Vol. 16, No. 3,
2008). Most attention is on the participation of children in various aspects of
governance at the national or community level (children’s parliaments and local
youth councils) and in international events. The challenge in the coming years is to
study more systematically child participation in the family, school, and, above all,
institutional care with a view toward improving and strengthening the right of the
child to be heard and to actively participate in decision-making processes on
matters that concern them individually or collectively.
7.4.3 The Family and Alternative Care
In the preamble to the CRC, the family is recognized as the fundamental group of
society and the natural environment for the growth and well-being of all its members,
particularly children. The CRC recognizes that for full and harmonious development
of the child’s personality, the child should grow up in a family environment.
Therefore, the family should receive the necessary protection and assistance. That is
precisely what the CRC states in a number of rather specific provisions that focus on
support for parents in the performance of their rights and responsibilities.
For those who believe that the CRC undermines parental authority, it is impor-
tant to note that the CRC is the only human rights document that explicitly
recognizes the principle that both parents have common responsibilities for the
upbringing and development of the child (art. 18). The CRC states that States
Parties shall respect the responsibilities, rights, and duties of parents to provide
the child, in a manner consistent with her or his evolving capacities, with appro-
priate direction and guidance in the child’s exercise of the rights recognized in the
CRC (art. 5). This means that parents should take into account the evolving
capacities of the child as an enabling process and not as an excuse for authoritarian
practices that restrict the child’s autonomy and self expression (GC No. 7 2006,
para. 17). Furthermore, States Parties should leave the upbringing and development
of the child to the parent(s) and should not interfere in family life (art. 16) unless
necessary for the protection of the child (art. 9).
At the same time and in line with the preamble, the CRC requires States Parties
to render appropriate assistance to the parents in the performance of their child-
rearing responsibilities and to ensure the development of institutions, facilities, and
services for the care of children. They also shall undertake measures to ensure that
children of working parents have the right to benefit from childcare services and
facilities for which they are eligible (art. 18, para. 2 and 3). At the family level,
parents have the primary responsibility of ensuring, within their ability and finan-
cial capacity, the right of their child to a standard of living adequate for the child’s
physical, mental, spiritual, moral, and social development (art. 27, para. 1 and 2).
The States Parties to the CRC must take appropriate measures to assist the parents
in the implementation of the right to an adequate standard of living, which includes,
when needed, the provision of material assistance and support programs, particu-
larly with regard to nutrition, clothing, and housing (art. 27, para. 3).
In short, the family environment and, in particular, parents are entitled to
appropriate support and assistance to ensure the best conditions (as much as
possible) for the full and harmonious development of the child. This means that
States Parties have to develop (depending on the available resources of the state, art.
4 CRC) an integrated approach for the purpose of providing this support and
assistance. This support and assistance should include measures that have an
indirect impact on the ability of parents to promote the well-being of the child
(for instance, special benefits or taxation privileges, adequate housing, and working
hours) and measures that have a more direct effect, such as home visitation
programs, parent education courses, and health-care services.
Unfortunately, all the efforts of the State Party to support and assist parents
cannot guarantee that a child can always stay with and be cared for by her or his
parents. The child may become the victim of serious neglect or abuse in the family
setting to the extent that it is necessary to move the child to alternative care. Article
20 of the CRC obliges States Parties to ensure that alternative care is provided,
which can include foster care, kafalah of Islamic law, adoption, and, if necessary,
210 J.E. Doek
suitable institutions for the care of children. Unfortunately, the CRC does not
contain more specific rules on the nature and quality of this alternative care.
However, international Guidelines for the Alternative Care of Children were
developed and recommended by the UN General Assembly for use by all member
states in the development and implementation of alternative care for children on
November 20, 2009 (A/RES/64/142, 2010). The guidelines underscore the impor-
tance of measures to be taken by States Parties to assist and support families and
provide concrete recommendations in that regard with a view to preventing the
necessity of alternative care. Furthermore, the guidelines contain many rules to be
followed to ensure the well-being of children while in alternative care.
7.4.4 Social and Cultural Rights
The right to the highest attainable standard of health (art. 24 CRC), the right to
education (art. 28 and 29 CRC), and the right of the child to rest and leisure, to
engage in play and recreational activities, and to participate in cultural life and the
arts (art. 31) are some examples of the rights that contribute in a significant way to
the well-being of the child. States Parties must pursue the full implementation of
these rights by taking the appropriate measures specified in the articles men-
tioned. In addition, the CRC Committee has issued General Comments that
provide the States Parties with specific guidance and recommendations on health
care for children infected or affected by HIV/AIDS (GC No. 3 2003), on adoles-
cent health and development (GC No. 4 2003), and on the aims of education (GC
No. 1 2001). Giving detailed examples of all the measures recommended to States
Parties is well beyond the scope of this chapter, but it is obvious that the
implementation of these measures will contribute to the well-being of children.
I would like to emphasize that these recommendations are aimed at not just
achieving quantitative results, for instance, the reduction of infant and child
mortality or the increase in enrollment of children in education, but also getting
attention focused on the quality of health care and education, including the active
participation of children in the development and use of these rights. For example,
I would like to highlight some elements of General Comment No. 1, on the aims of
education recognized in article 29.
The key goal of education is the development of the child’s personality, talents,
and abilities (art. 29a). This implies, according to the CRC Committee, that the
curriculum must be directly relevant to the child’s social, cultural, environmental,
and economic context and to her or his present and future needs, taking into full
account the child’s evolving capacities. Teaching methods should be tailored to the
different needs of different children. Education must also be aimed at ensuring that
essential life skills are learned by every child and that no child leaves school
without being equipped to face the challenges that he or she can expect to be
confronted with in life (GC No. 1 2001, para. 9).
The overall objective of education is to maximize the child’s ability and oppor-
tunity to participate fully and responsibly in a free society. It should be emphasized
that the type of education that focuses primarily on the accumulation of knowledge,
which prompts competition and leads to an excessive burden of work on children,
may seriously hamper the harmonious development of the child to the fullest
potential of her or his abilities and talents. Education should be child-friendly,
inspiring and motivating the individual child (GC No. 1 2001, para. 12).
7.4.5 The Right to Protection
The CRC contains quite a number of articles that recognize the right of the child to
be protected from neglect and from all forms of abuse, exploitation, torture, and
other cruel, inhuman, and degrading treatment or punishment (art. 19, 32–38), with
special attention for especially vulnerable groups such as refugee children (art. 22)
and children with disabilities (art. 23). The child’s right to respect for her or his
dignity and physical and mental integrity makes this protection a human rights
imperative. All actions to prevent and intervene in this realm should be aimed at
protecting and promoting the well-being of the child. Specific obligations of States
Parties in that regard can be found in the Optional Protocols discussed above, in the
CRC Committee’s country-specific recommendations, and in its General
Comments, such as GC No. 8 on the rights of the child to be protected from
corporal punishment and other cruel or degrading punishment and GC No. 13 on
article 19, the right of the child to freedom from all forms of violence (GC No. 13
2011). The latter contains a detailed commentary on article 19, its meaning, and the
measures States Parties must take for its full implementation. Children are
mentioned throughout this General Comment. For example, under the section
on social policy measures, in order to reduce risk and prevent violence, it
is recommended that children be provided with accurate, accessible, and
age-appropriate information and empowerment on life skills, self-protection, and
specific risks, including those related to information and communication technol-
ogies and how to develop positive peer relationships and combat bullying. Addi-
tionally, children must be provided with as many opportunities as possible to signal
the emergence of a problem before it reaches a state of crisis and for adults to
recognize and act on such problems even if the child does not explicitly ask for
help. Many more actions are recommended to protect the child’s well-being via
a comprehensive national plan of prevention and effective intervention when
needed, developed, and implemented with the participation of children.
7.4.6 Implementation
After this brief overview of the CRC and its possible contribution to the well-being
of children, we must move from the “possibles” to the “realities,” in other words,
what about the implementation of all these rights and obligations of states? In the
following section, I document both good and bad developments in the realm of
implementation.
212 J.E. Doek
The Good News: Since the CRC entered into force on September 2, 1990, the
States Parties have undertaken a wide range of legislative, social, and other
measures to bring their laws, policies, and practices into compliance with the
provisions of the CRC. The best regional overview of these measures is available
for Africa in the African Reports on Child Wellbeing 2008 and 2011 (African Child
Policy Forum 2008, 2011). The 2008 report concludes that:
• Improved governance and rapid economic progress are providing favorable
environments for the child well-being.
• Most African governments have increased the proportion of their budgets
allocated to health and education (detailed information on budgeting for children
can be found in the 2011 report).
• Many countries have harmonized or are in the process of harmonizing their
national laws with international law and the African Charter on the Rights and
Welfare of the Child.
• Governments are becoming more committed to ensuring longer and better lives
for people affected by HIV/AIDS through improved access to antiretroviral drugs.
• The 12 most child-friendly governments followed a two-pronged approach:
instituting appropriate laws to protect children and ensuring adequate budgetary
commitments to child-related services (The Report 2008 contains a Child-
Friendliness Index Ranking of African governments. It is regrettable that no
other region of the world has produced a similar report).
Global figures show an ongoing reduction in child mortality; an increase
in school enrolment, particularly of girls, thus closing the gap between
boys and girls; and successes in preventing and eliminating child labor (Diallo
et al. 2010; UNICEF 2012).
However, there is much that we do not know when it comes to the impact of the
implementation of the CRC on the well-being of children. For example, with regard
to the reduction of children in alternative care, there are countries where there are
active policies to achieve such a reduction by developing more and better family-
type forms of alternative care such as kinship care and foster care. Similar
observations can be made regarding the prevention of child abuse and neglect,
including sexual exploitation. Global figures do not exist or are not more than
estimates (Country-specific information can be found in the reports submitted to the
CRC Committee by States Parties to the CRC and the Concluding Observations of
this Committee in the Human Rights database (www2.ohchr.org/)).
It should be noted that the progress achieved is not just due to the activities
of governments of the States Parties to the CRC. Civil society, and in particular
the many national and international NGOs, and professional associations (of, e.g.,
social workers, psychologists, pediatricians) continue to play an important role
in promoting the full implementation of the CRC. The same applies for UN
specialized organizations, in particular UNICEF. Without the activities of these
organizations, States Parties would not have made the progress they achieved.
The Bad News: Progress so far has been slow, and too often governments do not
put their money where their mouth is. For instance, budgetary allocations to health
care, education, and child services are not sufficient for the implementation of the
rights of the child with respect to those items. Furthermore, the statement that
violence against children is preventable and never justifiable has not resulted in
a full prohibition of violence, including corporal punishment, in the upbringing and
education of children in the family, schools, institutions, and the workplace, as
recommended in the UN Study on Violence against Children 2006.
The African Report 2008 concluded that:
• Given their large numbers, the invisibility of Africa’s children with disabilities is
disturbing and shameful.
• Malnutrition is still serious and accounts for about 60 % of the deaths of children
under 5 years old in some parts of Africa.
• Despite considerable progress in increasing enrollment at the primary school
level, little has been achieved in increasing secondary school enrollment and in
improving the quality of education at both levels.
It is reasonable to assume that similar and other worrisome conclusions, for
instance, on the number and living conditions of children in institutions, can be
made regarding the developments in other regions of the world.
7.5 Conclusion
A review of the literature shows that the well-being of children has different
meanings. Notions like health, opportunities to grow and learn, feeling safe and
secure, positive personal and social relationships, the importance of feeling
respected, and to have a voice that is listened to can all be seen as aspects of
a child’s well-being. In other words, the child’s well-being has many aspects that
may more or less be interrelated.
The Convention on the Rights of the Child covers all aspects of the life of a child
and is thus an important tool for the promotion of the well-being of children. The
progressive and full implementation of the rights of the child as enshrined in the CRC
and its Optional Protocols is therefore the best contribution to the well-being of the
child. As described here, this implementation requires a wide variety of actions by
the governments of States Parties, civil society organizations, and UN agencies with
the goal of providing the child with health care, education, social services, and
protection. At the same time, the implementation contributes to the well-being of
the child by recognizing and respecting him or her as a rights holder. The key element
of that recognition is the obligation to provide the child with meaningful opportunities
to express their views on all matters concerning the child, which implies a growing
participation of the child in discussions and decisions on these matters, taking his or
her views into account.
With regard to measuring the impact of the CRC’s implementation, there is
ongoing discussion on the development of indicators, with considerable attention
focused on quantitative results, for example, statistics on infant mortality, malnu-
trition, and other health rates; education enrollment figures; and the number of
children in institutions, foster care, and juvenile justice system. While these statis-
tics play an important role, the recognition of the child as a holder of rights means
214 J.E. Doek
that measuring the impact of the CRC also requires soliciting the views of children
and their active participation in the measuring process in meaningful ways. Includ-
ing children’s perspectives may help get an accurate picture of their activities and
experiences and capture important aspects of their lives, such as children’s contri-
bution to their own well-being and the well-being of their significant others
(Ben-Arieh 2006). For all people working with or for children and aiming at the
promotion of their well-being, ongoing awareness and the effective implementation
of the rights of the child remain a daily challenge.
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Neuroscience and Child Well-Being
8
Adeline Jabès and Charles A. Nelson
8.1 Introduction
Over the past few decades, the field of developmental neuroscience has witnessed an
exponential increase in research aimed at elucidating brain development. Histori-
cally, the development of the brain has long been thought to be a purely maturational
process, one largely under the control of genetics. However, we now know this view
is in many respects incomplete, having been challenged by the increasing evidence
that experience (defined as the interactions with a social and physical environment)
can have a major impact on neural development. To date, it is clear that brain
development is the result of a combination of genetic predispositions and environ-
mental factors (see Nelson and Bloom 1997; Fox et al. 2010 for elaboration).
Moreover, the interaction between the developing brain and experience has been
shown to be highly complex and reciprocal. Indeed, not only does experience impact
brain development, but, conversely, changes occurring in development will influence
how the child interacts with his or her environment.
Understanding the interaction between brain development and experience can
provide an important perspective on child well-being. First, it is clear that a solid
understanding of brain development is essential to understanding the potentials and
limitations of the individual to interact with his or her world. Perhaps one of the
more remarkable processes in human development is the emergence and elabora-
tion of cognitive capacities, blossoming at an amazing rate from birth to adoles-
cence. The development of the brain is the process by which cognitive abilities
emerge gradually during life. For example, a child will not have the same capacities
at 4 and 8 years of age, and this greatly impacts how one might interact with a child
or the approach one takes in educating a child.
A. Jabès (*) • C.A. Nelson

Laboratories of Cognitive Neuroscience, Department of Developmental Medicine, Boston
Children’s Hospital and Harvard Medical School, Boston, MA, USA
e-mail: [email protected]; [email protected]

220 A. Jabès and C.A. Nelson
A second way to comprehend child well-being that we propose in this chapter

is in studying the impact of experience on brain development. As mentioned
above, the relation between the developing brain and experience is not a fixed and
linear process, but instead is quite complex. This intricate relationship can be
summarized in three points: (1) Experience can promote child well-being by
providing the necessary information for the brain to develop properly. (2) Expe-
rience can also interfere with brain development, by disturbing the delicate and
precise machinery that comprises the biological substrate, therefore disrupting
the child’s ability to experience the world in an optimal way. (3) Finally, aspects
of the environment can alleviate the negative impact of other environmental
factors by taking advantage of the unique plastic abilities of the developing
brain, a capacity that will eventually allow us to develop better interventions.
An important point to be noted here is that the interaction between brain and
experience will be greatly modulated by the different developmental status of the
brain throughout life. Not only will children incorporate experience differently
depending on the developmental status of their brain, but, additionally, their
experience will impact their growth differently depending on the stage of brain
development. In other words, as the brain is developing, its sensitivity to external
inputs changes, so the brain will need particular environmental inputs at specific
time points in order to mature properly. Also, while brain development may be
especially vulnerable to perturbations during specific developmental windows, it
retains the plasticity to alleviate deleterious effects from the environment during
certain developmental periods.
Therefore, it is important to recognize that ontogeny is much more than the
execution of a genetic program. Even children of the same age who share the same
DNA (i.e., monozygotic twins) may well incorporate experience differently, as
the environment in which we progress greatly shapes the development of
our brain. To understand how experience affects brain development, it is first
important to understand how the brain develops. For this purpose, we briefly
describe this ongoing and prolonged process, following from conception to
early adulthood. We review the different maturational processes leading to
the developed brain, highlighting that while brain development is most profound
during prenatal life, it goes through significant change postnatally as well.
Second, we describe the interrelation that exists between experience and
the developing brain, presenting the mechanisms through which the
environment impacts the brain. Finally, we illustrate this interaction by presenting
examples of this interrelation within the frameworks of sensory, language, mem-
ory, and social and emotional development. We emphasize the importance
of studying brain development and its relation to the environment. This informa-
tion begins to shed light on our understanding of the needs and vulnerabilities
of children at each step of their development and will eventually lead to crucial
improvements in education, policies, therapeutics/intervention, as well as benefits
in everyday care with those who interact with them. Taking this valuable per-
spective on development will help to ensure optimal outcomes in child
well-being.
8 Neuroscience and Child Well-Being 221
8.2 Brain Development
The formation and development of the human brain is a protracted process,

beginning within a few weeks after conception and continuing through early
adulthood. Shortly after conception, the two-celled zygote begins to divide, creat-
ing a cluster of unstructured cells called the blastocyst that contains an inner (the
embryoblast) and an outer layer (the trophoblast). The former will give rise to
the embryo proper, whereas the latter will give rise to support structures, including
the amniotic sac, placenta, and umbilical cord. After several more cell cycles have
been completed, sometime between the first and second prenatal week, the
embryoblast subdivides into three layers: an inner layer (endoderm), middle layer
(mesoderm), and outer layer (ectoderm). The endoderm will give rise to most of
the internal organs of the body, the mesoderm will give rise to support structures
(e.g., bones), and the ectoderm will give rise to the central and peripheral nervous
systems. This section will focus on the ectoderm, as this layer gives rise to the brain
and spinal cord, the two parts of the central nervous system.
8.2.1 Neural Induction and Neurulation
The formation of the neural tube, which is derived from the ectoderm, is considered
by most to be the first stage of brain development. The process of transforming the
undifferentiated tissue lining the dorsal side of the ectoderm into nervous system
tissue is referred to as neural induction. The additional processes of primary and
secondary neurulation refer to the further differentiation of this neural tissue into
the brain and the spinal cord (for a review of neural induction and neurulation, see
Lumsden and Kintner 2003).
As cells that line the ectoderm multiply, the ectodermal layer thickens to form
a pear-shaped neural plate. This plate gradually begins to fold over onto itself,
forming a tube (Fig. 8.1a and b). This process takes place approximately between
Day 22 and Day 26 of gestation (Keith 1948; Sidman and Rakic 1982). This tube
gradually closes at the bottom, which will give rise to the spinal cord, and then the
top, which will develop into the brain. Cells trapped inside the tube will lead to
the formation of the central nervous system (CNS), whereas those trapped between
the outer layer of the neural tube and the dorsal portion of the ectodermal wall (i.e. the
neural crest) will give rise to the autonomic nervous system (ANS) (see Fig. 8.1c).
As illustrated in Fig. 8.2, the neural tube rapidly becomes a three-vesicle
structure, and then a five-vesicle structure. The caudal portion of the tube (bottom)
will give rise to the hindbrain (rhombencephalon), which will consist of three
structures: (1) the medulla oblongata, which regulates basic bodily functions and
forms important connections from the rest of the brain to the spinal cord; (2) the
pons, which relays sensory information between the cerebral hemispheres and
the cerebellum; and (3) the cerebellum, which will subserve a variety of
motor functions. The middle vesicle of the neural tube gives rise to the midbrain
(mesencephalon), which caudally (along the bottom) connects to the pons and
rostrally (along the top) connects to the diencephalon, a forebrain structure that
Fig. 8.1 The process of a Neural plate

neurulation (See text for
details; from Kandel, Ectoderm
Schwartz and Jessel,
Copyright 1992, McGraw-
Hill Co. Reproduced with
permission)
Notochord
Neural groove
b
Somite
c Cavity of the
Neural crest neural tube
Neural tube
Somite
d Central canal
Spinal cord
(white matter)
Dorsal
Spinal cord
(gray matter)
Somite
Ventral
consists of the thalamus and the hypothalamus. Finally, the most rostral portion of
the tube will give rise to the forebrain (prosencephalon), which in turn will
subdivide into the telencephalon (cerebral hemispheres), the diencephalon, and
the basal ganglia.
8.2.2 Cell Proliferation and Neurogenesis
Once the neural tube has formed, cells that line the innermost portion of the tube
(the ventricular zone) begin to divide, a process called mitosis. Each of these newly
generated cells then begins the process again. Eventually some of these cells will
a b
Lateral Telencephalon
1 Forebrain ventricle
1a
Diencephalon
2 Midbrain Forebrain
Neural
retina
1b
3 Hindbrain Lens
Third ventricle 2 Midbrain

Mesencephalon
(midbrain)
Cerebral
aqueduct
3a Metencephalon
(pons and Hindbrain
Spinal cord 3b cerebellum)
Fourth ventricle
Myelencephalon
(medulla)
Spinal cord
Fig. 8.2 Once the primitive neural tube is formed and cells begin to differentiate, the central
nervous system emerges (From Kandel, Schwartz and Jessel, Copyright 1992, McGraw-Hill Co.
Reproduced with permission)
stop dividing and will differentiate into neurons (neurogenesis) or glia

(gliogenesis), the two main cell types composing the brain.
This proliferative stage leads to a massive production of new neurons, generally
beginning in the fifth prenatal week, and peaking between the third and fourth
prenatal months (for a review see Bronner-Fraser and Hatten 2003). It has been
estimated that at its peak, more than several hundred thousand new nerve cells are
generated each minute (Brown et al. 2001). This proliferative stage continues for
some time, ultimately resulting in the newborn brain having many more neurons
than the adult brain. The overproduction of neurons is compensated for by a second
normative process referred to as apoptosis, or programmed cell death. Apoptosis is

responsible for the pruning back of these neurons to adult numbers.
With the exception of neurons in the olfactory bulb, virtually every one of the
estimated 100 billion neurons we possess seems to have its genesis during prenatal
development. One additional area that shows neurogenesis postnatally in
both animals and humans is the dentate gyrus of the hippocampal formation
(Altman and Das 1965; Rakic and Nowakowski 1981; Eriksson et al. 1998). For
example, it has been shown in monkeys that neurogenesis peaks within the first
3 months after birth and remains at an intermediate level between 3 months and at
least 1 year of age. Moreover, a lower but significant level of neurogenesis has been
observed in adult monkeys (Jabès et al. 2010). The protracted developmental
process found in this region is particularly relevant to this chapter as this
neurogenesis can be influenced by early postnatal experience (this will be discussed
later in the context of memory as well as environmental enrichment).
Despite recent debates regarding neurogenesis in various regions of the neocor-
tex, to date the olfactory bulb and the dentate gyrus are the only brain regions
known to exhibit postnatal neurogenesis (for a review on the topic see Gould 2007).
The assumption that the brain is limited in the production of new neurons after birth
has important implications for development, as it suggests that the brain will not
have the ability to repair itself after injury or following disease by creating new
neurons. Future work on neurogenesis will prove vitally important to our under-
standing of brain plasticity and to the development of interventions and therapeutics
(for a general discussion of links between postnatal neurogenesis and therapeutics
see Lie et al. 2004).
8.2.3 Cell Migration
The neocortex (the outer covering of the brain comprised of “hills and valleys,”
more technically, sulci and gyri) is constructed by immature neurons that move
from the subventricular region outward – a process referred to as cell migration.
This migratory journey, which lasts less than a day per neuron, progresses in wave
upon wave of cells marching from one location to another until the neuron
receives a signal to stop and set up home in a particular location. Six months
after conception, all six layers of the cortex have been formed (Marin-Padilla 1978).
There are two types of migratory patterns illustrated by cells – radial and
tangential. The former refers to the propagation of cells from the deepest to the
most superficial layers of the cortex. Approximately 70–80 % of migrating neurons
(primarily pyramidal neurons) and most glia (including oligodendrocytes and
astrocytes) use this radial pathway (for more information on radial migration see
Kriegstein and Gotz 2003). In contrast, cortical interneurons and nuclei of the
brainstem adopt a tangential migratory pattern (Nadarajah and Parnavelas 2002).
Most cell migration is complete by approximately the 25th prenatal week.
Once a cell has completed its migratory journey, it continues through a complex
developmental process that we discuss in the next section. We focus on the

development of neurons, as they are the key components for information processing
in the brain network.
8.2.4 Cell Maturation
Once a neuron has migrated to its target destination, it generally proceeds along
one of two roads: the cell can develop processes (axons and dendrites) or it can be
retracted through apoptosis. Current estimates place the number of neurons that
are subsequently retracted at 40–60 % (Oppenheim and Johnson 2003).
The development of axons is facilitated by growth cones, small structures that sit
on the top of axons. The growth cone directs an axon toward some targets and away
from others using cues from the extracellular matrix surrounding the neuron,
and possibly local gene expression (for a review on axonal development see
Sanes et al. 2011). Lamellipodia and filopodia, two anatomical structures extending
from the growth cone play a primary role in axon guidance. Lamellipodia are thin
fan-shaped structures, whereas filopodia are long, thin spikes that radiate forward.
These structures provide the axon with the ability to move through the brain
micrometer by micrometer until the axon is within synapse range of
a neighboring neuron. There are various molecular cues helping the axon to find
its way, some in the extracellular matrix (e.g., laminin, tenascin, or collagen) and
some that sit on the surface of established axons and act as guides (e.g., cell
adhesion molecules). Whether the molecules reside in the extracellular matrix or
on the axon proper, axons are guided toward (attractant cues) or away
from (repellant cues) neighboring neurons (for a review see Tessier-Lavigne and
Goodman 1996).
Early dendrites appear as thick processes with few spines (small protuberances
that occupy the length of the dendrite) that extend from the cell body. As dendrites
mature, the number and density of the spines increase; this, in turn, increases the
chance that a dendrite will make contact with a neighboring axon. The first
dendrites appear approximately 15 weeks after conception, which is about the
same time the first axons reach the cortical plate. At 25–27 weeks gestation,
dendritic spines greatly increase in number, on both pyramidal and non-pyramidal
cells (Mrzljak et al. 1988). Dendritic growth has been shown to continue during an
extended postnatal period in some cortical regions (until roughly the age of 5 years;
Koenderink and Uylings 1995). Additionally, there appears to be an overproduction
of both axons and dendrites during development with the final number achieved
through competitive elimination.
8.2.5 Synaptogenesis
A synapse is the point of contact between two neurons, frequently between an axon
and a dendrite. Depending on the neuron in question, the action of a synapse can be
excitatory (promoting the likelihood of an action potential) or inhibitory (reducing

the likelihood of an action potential).
The first synapses are generally observed by about 23 weeks gestation (Molliver
et al. 1973), although the peak of production does not occur until sometime in the
first year of life (for a review see Webb et al. 2001). As is the case with neurons,
there is a massive overproduction of synapses, which is followed by a gradual
reduction (i.e., synaptic pruning); it has been estimated that 40 % more synapses are
produced than exist in the adult brain (see Levitt 2003). The peak of overproduction
varies by brain area. In the visual cortex, a synaptic peak is reached between
approximately 4 and 8 postnatal months (Huttenlocher and de Courten 1987),
whereas in the middle frontal gyrus, a region of the prefrontal cortex, the peak
synaptic density is not obtained until after 15 postnatal months (Huttenlocher and
Dabholkar 1997).
There is evidence that the overproduction of synapses is largely under genetic
control, although little is known about the genes that regulate synaptogenesis. For
example, Bourgeois and colleagues (Bourgeois et al. 1989) have reported that being
born prematurely or even removing the eyes of monkeys prior to birth has little
effect on the overproduction of synapses in their visual cortex. Thus, in both cases,
the absolute number of synapses is the same as if a monkey experienced a typical,
full-term birth. This suggests a highly regularized process with little influence by
experience.
However, the same cannot be said for synaptic pruning. Indeed, synaptic
pruning is strongly influenced by the environment. The process of retracting
synapses until some final (and presumably optimal) number has been reached is
dependent in part on the communication between neurons. Following the Hebbian
principle of use and disuse, the more active synapses tend to be strengthened and
the less active synapses tend to be weakened or even eliminated (Chechik et al.
1999). Neurons organize and support synaptic contact through neurotransmitter
receptors on the presynaptic cell (the cell attempting to make contact) and
through neurotrophins expressed by the postsynaptic cell (the cell on which
contact is made), and synapses are modulated and stabilized by the distribution
of excitatory and inhibitory inputs (Kostovic 1991). Le Bé and Markram (2006)
demonstrated using 12–14-day-old rat neocortical slices that pyramidal neurons
spontaneously connect and disconnect from each other and that adding an
excitatory neurotransmitter (glutamate) increases the number of connections that
are formed. The adjustments that are made in the pruning of synapses can either
be quantitative, with a reduction in the overall number of synapses, or qualitative,
with a refinement of connections such that incorrect or abnormal connections are
eliminated.
Growing research has found that the pruning of synapses appears to vary by
area. The number of synapses in the human occipital cortex peaks between 4 and
8 months of age and is reduced to adult number by 4–6 years of age. In contrast,
synapses in the middle frontal gyrus of the human prefrontal cortex reach their
peak closer to 1–1.5 years of age, but are not reduced to adult numbers until mid- to
late adolescence (Huttenlocher 1979, 1994; Huttenlocher and Dabholkar 1997;
70
Newborn
Adolescence
60
50
Synapses/100 µm3
40
30
20
10
100
200
300
400
500
600
800
1000
1500
2000
3000
4000
6000
8000
10000
Adult
Conceptual Age (days)
Fig. 8.3 Synaptogenesis follows a different time course in different regions of the brain. Mean
synaptic density in auditory (filled circles), visual (open circles), and prefrontal (x) cortices
(Huttenlocher and Dabholkar 1997; reused based on the permission/STM permission Guidelines)
Huttenlocher and de Courten 1987). Figure 8.3 summarizes the different time
course of synaptogenesis in different brain regions. Unfortunately these data are
based on relatively few brains and relatively old methods. We should expect
improved figures in the years to come with advances in new methods, a point
that applies to much of the literature reviewed thus far.
8.2.6 Myelination
Myelin is a fatty substance, which, when wrapped around an axon, tends to increase
the conduction velocity or speed at which neuronal impulses travel. Oligodendrog-
lia produce myelin in the CNS, whereas Schwann cells produce myelin in the ANS.
Myelination occurs in waves beginning prenatally and ending in young adulthood
(and in some regions, as late as middle age; see Benes et al. 1994). Historically,
myelin was examined in postmortem tissue using staining methods. From such
work, it was revealed that myelination begins prenatally with the peripheral nervous
system, motor roots, sensory roots, somesthetic cortex, and the primary visual and
auditory cortices (listed in chronological order). During the first postnatal year,
regions of the brainstem, cerebellum, and the splenium of the corpus callosum
become myelinated, and by 1 year of age, myelination of all regions of the corpus
callosum is under way.
Although staining for myelin is undoubtedly the most sensitive metric for
examining the course of myelination, this procedure can only be done on post-
mortem brains, raising question of how representative these brains are of the
general population. Fortunately, advances in magnetic resonance imaging (MRI)
have now made it possible to acquire detailed information about myelination in
living children; importantly, several longitudinal studies have examined the course
of myelination from early childhood through early adulthood (Giedd et al. 1996a,
b; Jernigan et al. 1991; Paus et al. 1999; Sowell et al. 1999). Thus far, these
findings have revealed that the pre- through postadolescent period demonstrates an
increase in gray matter volume, followed by a decrease, whereas white matter
shows first a decrease and then an increase. During this same period, notable
changes occur in the dorsal, medial, and lateral regions of the frontal lobes,
whereas relatively fewer changes are observed in the parietal, temporal, and
occipital lobes. This suggests, not surprisingly, that the most dramatic changes
in myelination occur in the frontal lobes through the adolescent period
(for a general overview see Durston et al. (2001)).
8.2.7 Summary on Brain Development: What About Childhood?
Brain development is an ongoing process, including age-specific changes occurring

from the first days of gestation throughout the first two decades of life. The basic
architecture of the brain is formed during the first two trimesters of fetal life, while
the last trimester and the first few postnatal years see changes in connectivity.
Finally, the most prolonged changes occur in the wiring of the brain
(synaptogenesis) and in making the brain work more efficiently (myelination),
both of which show dramatic, nonlinear changes from the preschool period through
the end of adolescence.
Despite all we know about brain development, it is important to note that much
of the available information is greatly limited to the prenatal and early postnatal
period. We know that by the age a child begins preschool, the basic architecture of
the brain has been established. However, while some functions might be already
adultlike by then (e.g., sensory functions), others seem to exhibit a protracted
developmental profile (e.g., memory functions; see below for more details). At
the brain level, one noticeable maturational event occurring during childhood is
a change in the overall ratio between grey matter volume, areas containing mainly
cell bodies, and white matter volume, areas containing mainly myelinated axons
(see above); specifically, an increase in the white matter volume is observed during
childhood and adolescence. This means that long-distance myelinated connections
appear to be developing during childhood, permitting one region of the brain to
communicate with other regions more efficiently. For example, it has been
suggested that the connections between the hippocampal formation, a brain region
subserving memory processes, and the prefrontal cortex, which has been proposed
to be involved in the cognitive control of memory (among other functions; Badre

and Wagner 2007), might undergo late development. Indeed, it has been shown that
the functional interaction between these two regions of the brain still increases
between 10 and 20 years of age (Menon et al. 2005). These changes might
potentially lead to the development of more effective memory processes during
childhood and beyond. In accordance, it has been shown that memory abilities
continue to improve throughout childhood (Sluzenski et al. 2006) and even until
young adulthood (Ofen et al. 2007). Therefore, even if the main brain components
are present at birth or shortly after, major changes, such as myelination, occur
during childhood that will lead the brain to subserve the complex adult functioning
later in life.
8.3 Environmental Influences on Brain Development
The description of brain development provided above might lead us to believe that
this process is fixed and mainly predetermined; however, this is not the case.
Although the developmental events occurring from conception are largely matura-
tional in nature and primarily controlled by intrinsic genetic factors, it is essential
to also emphasize the profound influence that experience exerts on the developing
brain. Indeed, the brain not only changes as a function of development, but
also as a function of its interaction with the environment and this can have
significant impacts on the quality of life and well-being of the developing individ-
ual. The brain’s ability to be molded by experience during development is called
developmental plasticity.
Interestingly, experience is not something that just happens to the brain, but
rather reflects the product of an ongoing and reciprocal interaction between the
environment and the brain. For example, experience interacts importantly with
genetics. Turkheimer and colleagues (2003) examined IQ in 7-year-old twins,
a substantial number of whom were drawn from families living at or below the
poverty level. The authors reported that the heritability of IQ varied nonlinearly as
a function of socioeconomic status (SES). Thus, among twins living in
impoverished environments, a substantial portion of the variance was accounted
for by the environmental factors, with relatively little variance accounted for by
genetics; in contrast, this effect was almost completely reversed among twins living
in affluent families.
More importantly for the focus of this chapter, experience greatly impacts
the developing brain in a time-dependent manner. In other words, the extent by
which the environment influences the brain varies greatly as a function of the
maturational state of the brain at the time of exposure. Indeed, the different
regions of the brain, and by extension their particular functions, mature at
different time points during development. As the brain passes through different
developmental stages, its sensitivity or vulnerability to experience varies accord-
ingly – hence the concept of sensitive periods (see Knudsen 2003). More specif-
ically, these sensitive or critical periods of development are distinct for each
maturational process; each developmental process occurs for a different time

window during which they are particularly sensitive to environmental influences.
For example, developmental processes such as proliferation, neurogenesis, or
migration, all of which primarily occur prenatally, will be less susceptible to
environmental factors after birth (see below the noticeable exception of postnatal
neurogenesis in the dentate gyrus). In contrast, synaptogenesis and myelination,
processes occurring throughout a longer time period (prenatally and postnatally), are
more sensitive to environmental factors and might be modulated by the environment
from birth to early adulthood.
8.3.1 Experience-Induced Plasticity
Before describing specific examples of relations between brain and behavioral

development and the environment, we should briefly introduce the different kinds
of experience-induced plasticity that can impact brain development. Indeed, two
types of experience-induced plasticity have been described (for a review see Black
et al. 1998; Greenough et al. 1987): experience-expectant plasticity and experience-
dependent plasticity.
Experience-expectant plasticity refers to experience-induced changes in the
brain that are common to all members of the species. These experiences must
occur for the brain to develop normally and thus for behavioral development to
proceed on a typical trajectory. For example, our ability to use both eyes to derive
information about depth (i.e., binocular depth perception) requires access to pattern
light information. Importantly, access to this type of visual information must occur
at a time in development when synapses in the visual cortex are still malleable,
a sensitive period ending approximately around 4–6 years of age (see Sect. 8.2.5).
This again underscores one key point of developmental plasticity: brain systems
remain plastic during a limited time window (specific to the developmental profile
of each system), and if such inputs fail to occur or if the inputs are abnormal, the
development will be disrupted. In the case of depth perception, exposure to a typical
environmental experience (e.g., access to pattern light information) during
a specific period during development allows for successful development of this
visual function. This type of basic visual experience can be categorized as expected
by all members of a species as it presupposes that the young organism will confront
a normal visual world with an intact visual system. Experience-expectant plasticity
will be further discussed in several of the examples below, including the cases of
sensory, language, and social and emotional development, as it is expected (or,
indeed, hoped) that a child will be reared in an environment that will provide the
needed inputs to allow for typical development in these domains.
Experience-dependent plasticity is the second type of environmentally induced
plasticity, and this allows the brain to adapt to environmental factors that are unique
to each individual rather than common across species. An example of such plas-
ticity is learning; individuals will be exposed to a variety of information that will be
stored and drive future behavior, and since this information is differentially
available or stored across individuals, it will give rise to differences in a variety of

cognitive domains from person to person.
In the next section, we provide specific examples of such developmental plas-
ticity. As mentioned above, experience-expectant development will be the main
mechanism behind these examples. By describing research on the impact of expe-
rience on brain development, we aim to reiterate two major concepts: First, a certain
normative environment is essential to ensure that the brain will develop properly.
Second, modulation of the brain by the environment is highly dependent on the
developmental stage of the brain at the time of exposure. We present examples of
both positive and negative factors that can impact brain maturation during specific
postnatal developmental periods. These examples will be restricted to the sensory,
linguistic, memory, and social and emotional domains.
It is important to note that once the brain is fully developed (i.e., around 20 years
of age as described earlier), the potential of the brain to be molded by experience or
to recover from injury is still present in some brain circuits. The reader can refer
to another work from our laboratory for an overview on these adult plasticity
mechanisms and a discussion on the difference between developmental and adult
plasticity (Nelson et al. 2006b).
8.4 Models of Brain-Environment Interactions
The important role of experience on brain and behavioral development has been
most commonly demonstrated using studies of deprivation. The studies reviewed
below focus on the impact of adverse environmental factors, such as deprivation of
sensory input, food, or care, on the development of brain and behavior. We also
discuss instances where the brain and its function can be shaped by positive
experience.
8.4.1 Sensory Development
8.4.1.1 Visual Function

Pioneering work on the developmental plasticity of the visual system was provided
by Hubel and Wiesel 50 years ago in studies of visual deprivation in kittens (for
a review on the topic see Huttenlocher 2002). These authors showed that although
a bilateral ocular deprivation (i.e., by suturing both eyes shut) occurring between 3
and 8 weeks of life leads to severe deficits of visual functions, the same deprivation
in adult cats had no such effects. Moreover, these authors found that unilateral
deprivation between 3 and 8 weeks postnatally leads to an increase in the number of
neurons in the area of the visual cortex processing information from the non-
deprived eye, but again, not if this occurs in adulthood. The same observations
have been made in nonhuman primates, showing that a critical period exists for the
development of the visual system from birth to the first year of life during which
visual function can be impacted by environmental manipulation. These data were

among the first to show the importance of early experience on the development of
visual function.
Extending from this work using animal models, more recent work on congenital
cataracts in humans has explored early experience on the visual system. A cataract
is an opacity that covers the eye, which, if dense enough, may permit only light
perception but no pattern perception, which is the perception of distinct items
and the relation between them. For example, drawing on longitudinal data, Maurer
and colleagues (1999) reported that among infants born with cataracts that are
removed and replaced by new lenses within months of birth, even just the first few
minutes of visual experience can lead to a rapid change in visual acuity. Not
unexpectedly, the longer the cataracts are present (reducing the amount of time
for exposure to a normal visual world to occur), the less favorable the outcome.
More specifically, if the cataract is removed before 2 months of age, visual function
will develop normally, and if the surgery occurs between 4 and 6 months of age,
visual acuity will show significant improvement (Mohindra et al. 1983). In sharp
contrast, work examining this intervention during adulthood has found extremely
limited benefit on visual functions (Fine et al. 2002).
Interestingly, although most visual functions undergo dramatic improvements
following early cataract removal, some aspects of face perception continue to be
impaired, suggesting that this specific visual function has a distinct and narrower
sensitive period of development. There is now extensive evidence to support
the notion that experience powerfully contributes to face processing abilities (for
a review see Nelson 2001, 2003; Scott and Nelson 2004). First, e.g., we know that
adults have difficulty discriminating inverted faces, a phenomenon that appears to
emerge by about 4 months of age (Fagan 1972). This inversion effect is typically
attributed to the fact that we have extensive experience seeing faces upright and
virtually no experience seeing them upside down; thus, it is experience with the
former that accounts for poorer performance in processing or recognizing inverted
faces. Second, there is the well-known “other race” effect, in which adults, more so
than children, find it easier to recognize faces from their own race (see Chance
et al. 1982; O’Toole et al. 1994). Third, as previously discussed, Maurer and
colleagues (1999) reported that children born with cataracts go on to develop
very good visual functions in general once the cataracts are removed, although
subtle deficits in face recognition persist. These findings have been interpreted to
suggest that exposure to normal faces during a sensitive period of development is
crucial for normal face processing skills to develop properly. Fourth, perhaps the
strongest evidence for the role of experience in the development of face processing
comes from the findings that both monkeys and human adults are better at recog-
nizing faces from their own species (Pascalis and Bachevalier 1998). For example,
in the first 6 months of life, infants are quite good at discriminating both human
and monkey faces, but by 9 months, infants behave more like adults: they can
discriminate two human faces but have a very difficult time discriminating two
monkey faces (Pascalis et al. 2002). These data strongly suggest that cortical
specialization for face processing is driven by experience with faces.
Altogether these data show that visual functions are not only dependent on
postnatal experience, but this dependency occurs within a relatively narrow period
of time – and when it comes to face processing, a very narrow period of time.
8.4.1.2 Auditory Function

Although the auditory system seems to be functional as early as the 27th week
of gestation (for reviews on the development of auditory function see Werner
et al. 2012), the maturation of auditory perception in humans is a protracted
process from prenatal life throughout adolescence (Sanes and Bao 2009).
The impact of early experience on auditory functioning has been tested in
9-day-old rats reared in an environment of continuous, moderate-level noise
(Cheng and Merzenich 2003). Continuous noise rearing delayed the organization
of the auditory cortex; specifically, the auditory receptive fields differed from what
would be expected under normal auditory rearing conditions. Moreover, when
these rats reached young adulthood, the auditory cortex appeared very similar to
infants, suggesting that an adverse acoustic environment early in life can
disrupt maturation. Interestingly, the same noise exposure applied to rats older
than 30 days did not lead to changes in neural activity in the auditory cortex
(Zhang et al. 2002), suggesting that the critical developmental period for auditory
functioning has already passed.
A related set of data has been collected through the study of children suffering
from congenital deafness who later received cochlear implants. Electrophysiolog-
ical responses to speech sounds were recorded 6 months after children received the
implant, and for children receiving this intervention at 3.5 years of age or less,
age-appropriate responses were exhibited. In contrast, those implanted at 7 years of
age or later showed abnormal electrophysiological responses to speech (Sharma
et al. 2002, 2005); for a review see Kral and Eggermont (2007).
8.4.2 Language Development
Studies on the development of language have also contributed to discussion of

a developmental critical period for auditory function. Indeed, it is well established
that language abilities can be better acquired during infancy than later in life. One
set of studies have focused on work showing that monolingual adults have difficulty
discriminating speech contrasts from various nonnative languages. For example,
native English-speaking adults who have never been exposed to Japanese experi-
ence great difficulty in discriminating speech contrasts from this language. This
differs dramatically from the English-speaking adult’s highly developed ability to
discriminate speech contrasts from their own language. In contrast to a monolingual
adult, infants during the first year of life are initially able to discriminate speech
contrasts from all languages, whether native or non-native. Between 6 and 12 months
of life, however, the infants’ ability to discriminate phonemes from languages to
which they are not exposed declines greatly (for a review see Saffran et al. 2006).
Thus, although a 6-month-old infant raised in an English-speaking home may be able

to discriminate contrasts from English, as well as those from Japanese, e.g., by
12 months of age, such infants become more like English-speaking adults, losing
the ability to discriminate contrasts from nonnative languages. Collectively, these
data have been interpreted to suggest that the speech system remains open to
experience for a certain period of time, but if experience in a particular domain
(such as hearing speech contrasts in different languages) does not occur, the window
begins to close within the first year of life. Interestingly, Kuhl and colleagues
(2003) have found that infants who are given additional experience with speech
sounds in a nonnative language before 12 months of age continue to retain these
discriminatory abilities. This implies that certain discriminatory abilities might be
lost unless experience with nonnative languages occurs during a sensitive period of
development.
Beyond more basic speech perception, which surely has implications for later
language processing, another domain of language development that can be consid-
ered in the context of developmental brain plasticity is the ability to acquire
a second language during the life span. The development of language is a classic
example of developmental plasticity (for a review see Kuhl 2010). There has been
great debate surrounding the sensitive period for acquiring a second (or third or
fourth) language. Dehaene et al. (1997) have reported that the neural representation
of a second language is identical to that of a first language in truly bilingual
individuals. However, if linguistic competence of the second language is not as
strong as the first, then the functional neuroanatomy (based on PET data) shows
differences. Since the bilinguals studied in this work had acquired their second
language early in life, the initial conclusion was that the second language needed to
be acquired early to be represented in the brain in the same location as the first
language. Perani et al. (1998) have challenged this conclusion in work that asked
whether it was the age at which the second language was acquired that was the
critical variable or the proficiency with which this language was spoken. In this
study, the age at which the second language had been mastered covaried with how
well this language was spoken. The authors reported that it was proficiency, not age
of acquisition, that was most critical. Thus, shared neural representation for both
languages related to whether the second language was spoken with equal profi-
ciency as the first language.
Related findings have been obtained with congenitally deaf individuals who
are proficient in sign language: the areas of the brain involved in processing sign
language for deaf individuals are identical to those areas processing spoken
language for hearing individuals (Petitto et al. 2000). Furthermore, Newman
and colleagues (2002) have reported that sign language is represented in the
same location as spoken language only among individuals who acquired sign
language before puberty. This suggests that there is a sensitive period for
representing sign language in the same regions of the brain as spoken language.
Work by Mayberry and colleagues (2002) has also reported that proficiency in
sign language among deaf individuals was far greater among subjects who had
been exposed to sign language earlier in life, pointing to a sensitive period for
acquiring high proficiency in sign language, as seems to be the case for spoken
languages (see above).
It is interesting to note that the issue of shared neural representation for multiple
languages differs from the issue of speaking a second language without an accent.
Indeed, individuals who acquire a second language before the age of 10 years are
far more likely to speak that language without an accent than those who acquire that
language after the age of 10 (e.g., Johnson and Newport 1989).
8.4.3 Declarative Memory Development
Further examples of the effects of early experience on brain development can be

found in the literature about declarative memory, i.e., memory for facts (semantic
memory) and memory for events (episodic memory). Indeed, it has been shown
that adverse environmental factors impact the development of the hippocampal
formation, a medial temporal lobe structure subserving declarative memory. Work
in animals has found that birds experiencing nutritional deprivation during the first
2 months of their life will exhibit memory deficits later in life (Pravosudov et al.
2005). Indeed, at 1 year of age, those birds had smaller hippocampi with fewer
neurons, and their performance on different spatial memory tasks was significantly
decreased. In contrast, deprived birds performed similarly to control animals
on a hippocampal-independent learning task. Most interestingly, nutritional
rehabilitation from 2 months to 1 year of age does not alleviate the deleterious
effects of early malnutrition, suggesting that a critical neurodevelopmental period
had passed.
The development of the hippocampal formation is a particularly prolonged
process. Indeed, as described earlier, neurogenesis in this region occurs over
a protracted period as compared to other brain regions, extending the functional
maturation of this memory system (Richmond and Nelson 2008; for a perspective
on the topic see Jabès et al. 2011). One might therefore expect that the hippocampal
formation will be particularly vulnerable and sensitive to postnatal environmental
influences. This point has been illustrated by Vargha-Khadem and colleagues
(1997) in their initial report of three children who had suffered hypoxic insult
(i.e., lack of oxygen) during infancy or childhood and who presented with severe
impairments in everyday memory functioning. Volumetric MRI showed bilateral
hippocampal atrophy in all three cases with volumes ranging from 39 % to 57 %
below normal. Neuropsychological evaluations revealed that while these children
had IQs within the normal range, their scores on standardized memory tests were
significantly lower than would be predicted by their intelligence. The pattern of
impairment exhibited by these children closely resembled that of adult amnesic
patients: Performances on tests of immediate memory were normal; however, they
exhibited severe deficits when they were asked to recall information after a delay.
Further, the children found it difficult to navigate even familiar surroundings, often
forgot where they had left objects, were unable to remember appointments or
messages, and could not provide accounts of everyday events in which they had
participated. Despite this profound amnesia, the children attended mainstream

school and had learned to read, write, and spell at a level that was consistent with
their IQs. The children had also acquired considerable factual knowledge, as
evidenced by normal performance on vocabulary, information, and comprehension
subtests. Vargha-Khadem and colleagues (1997) suggested then that these children
exhibit severe impairments in episodic memory but relatively spared semantic
memory abilities, a syndrome now known as developmental amnesia. This phe-
nomenon contrasts with the fact that a lesion of the hippocampus in adults generally
impairs both semantic and episodic memory processes (Squire and Zola 1996).
Since the initial report by Vargha-Khadem et al. (1997), several additional cases of
developmental amnesia have been identified (Adlam et al. 2005; Baddley et al.
2001; Gadian et al. 2000; Isaacs et al. 2003; King et al. 2004; Vargha-Kahdem et al.
2001, 2003). Interestingly and in accordance with the data presented so far, it seems
that the selective pattern of impairment seen in developmental amnesia (i.e.,
impaired episodic memory but intact semantic memory) is not necessarily restricted
to cases in which the injury occurs very early in life. Children who incurred
hypoxic-ischemic insult during middle childhood exhibit the same neuropsycho-
logical profile as do children who had experienced perinatal hypoxic-ischemic
insult (Vargha-Khadem et al. 2003). To date, it is unclear if the differential pattern
of impairments characterizing developmental amnesia as compared to adult amne-
sia is related to differences in the extent of the hippocampal pathology or due to the
role of plasticity and compensatory mechanisms in the developing brain
(Bachevalier and Vargha-Khadem 2005). Bachevalier and Vargha-Khadem
(2005) proposed that because the rhinal cortex was intact in these individuals, all
retained the ability to form context-free semantic memories; but, because of the
hippocampal damage, none developed the ability to form context-rich episodic
memories. An alternative interpretation is that the hippocampal formation is nec-
essary for semantic memory as well, but in the cases of developmental amnesia, the
brain exhibited remarkable plasticity ability at least until childhood.
This type of developmental plasticity has been reported in monkeys that
received hippocampal lesions shortly after birth. Indeed, spatial relational learning
persisted following neonatal lesions (Lavenex et al. 2007), whereas hippocampal
lesions prevented spatial relational learning in adult-lesioned monkeys
(Banta Lavenex et al. 2006). Lavenex and colleagues have proposed that early
insult to the hippocampal formation might be functionally compensated through the
recruitment of brain regions that normally will not subserve spatial relational
memory function.
8.4.4 Social and Emotional Development
A rather dramatic example of the effects of early experience on cognitive devel-

opment can be found in studies examining individuals being reared in institutional
settings, an environment characterized by highly impoverished sensory, cognitive,
and linguistic stimulation as well as low-quality caregiving practices. This type of
early deprivation has been found to have profound effects on a variety of aspects
of development. For example, Gunnar (2001) reported that the long-term sequelae
of children experiencing early institutionalization and concomitant deprivation
include deficits in social-emotional functioning and in executive functioning.
However, despite the lengthy history of studying post-institutionalized children,
there are few, if any, studies that have (1) examined the effects of institutionaliza-
tion on brain and behavioral development and (2) shown, using a randomized, case-
control design, the efficacy of early intervention in ameliorating the effects of early
deprivation (for more information see Nelson et al. 2007).
These limitations of previous studies have been addressed in an ambitious
project focusing on the effects of early institutionalization on a set of brain and
behavioral functions, and the efficacy of a specific intervention – in this case,
high-quality foster care – to ameliorate the expected negative sequelae of the
deprivation that is inherent in institutional settings. The Bucharest Early Interven-
tion Project (BEIP) is a longitudinal study contrasting three groups of children:
(1) The institutionalized group was comprised of children who had lived virtually
their entire lives in institutional settings in Bucharest, Romania. (2) The foster care
group included children who were institutionalized at birth, and then following an
extensive baseline assessment, placed in foster care (the mean age of placement was
22 months). (3) The never-institutionalized group included children living with
their biological families in the greater Bucharest community (for details see Zeanah
et al. 2003). The neuroscientific premise underlying this project is that the deficits
and developmental delays that result from institutional rearing have their
origins in compromised brain development. As illustrated so far, for the brain
to wire correctly requires input, and a lack of this input could lead to the
under-specification and mis-wiring of circuits. Because children living in institu-
tions lack inputs on multiple levels, one might expect these children to show a range
of problems as a result of “errors” in brain development. Further, as some domains
of function are more experience-dependent than others, and as the critical timing of
the experience needed to ensure healthy development is domain-specific, the
efficacy of foster care would be hypothesized to vary by domain (e.g., language,
psychopathology) and duration of deprivation.
Before turning to findings relating to social and emotional development, it is
interesting to first discuss additional results from this project that also illustrate the
concept of sensitive developmental periods. First, in term of language development,
at baseline, the institutionalized group’s overall language quotient was at about 65
(with 100 being the mean); however, for measures of comprehension and produc-
tion, institutionalized infants performed at about the tenth percentile. In contrast,
the overall language quotient among the never-institutionalized infants was about
110, and they scored at the 70th percentile on language comprehension and 60th
percentile on language production. Importantly, foster care appeared to have been
remarkably effective in ameliorating much of this language delay. For example,
among the infants placed in foster care before 24 months of age, catch-up growth
in language amounted to approximately three raw score units per month; for
those placed after 26 months, the rate of change was about one raw score unit per
month (Windsor et al. 2011). Second, in terms of cognitive development, at

baseline, institutionalized children showed greatly diminished intellectual perfor-
mance as compared to never-institutionalized children; the average developmental
quotient of the former was about 74, whereas among the latter the value was about
103 (Smyke et al. 2007). In addition to linguistic abilities, children randomly
assigned to foster care also experienced significant gains in cognitive function.
Moreover, there appears to be a sensitive period during which the placement in
foster care (the intervention in this case) will lead to better cognitive outcome: if the
infants were placed before 2 years of age, the cognitive performance measured at 42
and 54 months of age were significantly better than for infants placed after 2 years
of age (Nelson et al. 2007). This suggests that there may be a sensitive period during
which foster care benefit on cognitive development might be maximal.
The effects of early deprivation on social and emotional development have been
described using attachment assessments as well as face and emotion recognition
paradigms. The attachment data showed, at baseline, profound attachment difficul-
ties among institutionalized infants. For example, whereas 100 % of the never-
institutionalized infants fall into the A, B, C, and D classification categories, only
approximately 5 % of the institutionalized infants do so; roughly 10 % are classified
as nonattached, and almost 30 % show attachment behavior with severe
abnormalities. Moreover, among the never-institutionalized infants, nearly 75 %
are classified as B babies, or as securely attached (Zeanah et al. 2005). Interestingly,
a marked improvement of attachment has been observed following foster care
placement. As for language and cognitive development, a secure attachment is
more likely to be restored if the infants are placed in foster care before the age of
24 months (Smyke et al. 2010).
A critical dimension of social-emotional functioning concerns the ability to
decode and recognize facial expression of emotion. Specifically, based on the
hypothesis that infants reared in institutional settings receive impoverished expo-
sure to social-communicative facial signals, it can be expected that these infants
might show deficits in discriminating facial expressions of emotion. Work has
found that, in fact, institutionalized and never-institutionalized children are
performing comparably on an emotion discrimination task when evaluated using
both behavioral and electrophysiological measures. Based on preferential-looking
measures, both groups find certain expression pairings easy to discriminate (e.g.,
happy vs. fearful, sad vs. fearful), and others more difficult (e.g., neutral vs. fearful;
Nelson et al. 2006a). Institutionalized and never-institutionalized children also
showed similar electrophysiological responses to facial expressions of emotion.
Specifically, fearful faces elicited larger amplitude and longer-latency responses
than happy faces for the P250 and Nc components (Moulson et al. 2009). These
findings indicate that the ability to discriminate facial emotions is left largely intact
following early deprivation, whereas attachment behavior appears greatly affected
by early institutionalization.
Follow-up work at 8 and 9 years of age with these children raised in institution-
alized settings has revealed that whereas some cognitive functions are impaired,
such as visual memory, attention, visually mediated learning, and inhibitory
control, others have an age-appropriate level on similar tests where auditory

processing was also involved and on tests assessing executive processes such as
rule acquisition and planning (Pollak et al. 2010; see also Bos et al. 2009). These
findings provide additional evidence that distinct domains of brain and behavioral
development are particularly vulnerable to early adverse experiences.
Thus far, the BEIP has demonstrated that early psychosocial deprivation is related
to subsequent language, cognitive, and social and emotional impairments. Moreover,
it emphasizes the importance of the time frame during which these negative out-
comes can be compensated, at least partially, with foster care appearing to be more
effective in reducing later impairments if occurring during the first 2 years of life.
This timing leads us to speculate that the neural circuits that subserve these functions
may be established before 2 years of age, the time when these children with better
outcomes were removed from the institution and placed in foster care.
8.4.5 Environmental Enrichment
Studies on the relation between brain development and the environment have
mainly focused on the negative factors that could impact brain and behavior.
However, there is also a great deal of interest in studying the potential positive
impact that the environment can have on brain maturation. A large number of
experiments with animals have found that an enriched environment has favorable
impacts on the brain (van Praag et al. 2000). The enriched environments used in
such studies, however, are defined relative to standard laboratory conditions that are
most certainly an impoverished environment as compared to natural living condi-
tions, informing us mainly about the differential effects of impoverished versus
natural-like environment on brain/behavior development (Greenough et al. 1993).
In other words, this work might not be as informative for environmental manipu-
lations of populations living in normative conditions, though it is an important start
for understanding environmental influences.
Evidence of improved cognitive functions following exposure to an “enriched”
environment has been provided in the domain of memory. An “enriched” environ-
ment has been shown to regulate neurogenesis in developing 21-day-old mice
(Kempermann et al. 1997), leading to an increased number of neurons and an
improvement of hippocampal function (i.e., spatial learning). Interestingly, when
such manipulations are imposed on 6- or 18-month-old mice, neurogenesis is also
regulated, but neither structural nor functional effects are observed (i.e., no differ-
ences in neuron number or spatial memory performance; Kempermann et al. 1998).
These data suggest that not only can negative environmental factors impact brain
structure and function during limited periods of development, but positive factors
as well.
In humans, the literature on enrichment is less convincing, probably due to the
fact that children from relatively deprived backgrounds are exposed to enrichment
programs for only a limited period of time (e.g., preschool period), whereas rats are
typically exposed 24 h a day, 7 days a week, for 30–60 days (an estimation of
childhood to early adolescence in term of human life span; for a review see Curtis
and Nelson 2003). It has been reported that whereas enrichment programs lead to
immediate gains in children’s IQ level, this effect seems to fade away gradually
during childhood. As emphasized in the first section of this chapter, brain devel-
opment is a prolonged process, with some protracted changes occurring beyond
adolescence (e.g., myelination and synaptogenesis). Thus in humans we might
speculate that environmental enrichment during the preschool period is falling
before the critical period of development for higher cognition (as those assessed
by the IQ questionnaire) that may extend into adolescence and even beyond.
Overall, it is clear that the effects of early intervention on intellectual function
among children living in impoverished environments are modest at best. There are
many potential reasons for this, including the following: (1) the measures used to
assess intellectual function tend to be more global and unable to pick up on more
subtle changes, (2) interventions tend to have broad targets for improvement and
therefore might show a lack of precision in the specific “enriching” experiences,
and (3) a failure to consider the child’s genetic potential, which may influence the
ceiling of intellectual ability.
With advances in the sophistication with which we understand specific cognitive
abilities, and our knowledge of the neural circuitry that underlies such abilities, it
will be important for future research to examine whether specific intellectual
abilities in children living in typical (i.e., non-impoverished) environments can be
enhanced by specific experiences.
8.5 Summary
Brain development is a complex and long-term process, occurring from conception

to early adulthood. Although genetic factors widely influence this ongoing devel-
opmental progression (particularly during prenatal life), it has been well established
that experience has an enormous impact on typical brain maturation and conse-
quently on the individual’s ability to comprehend the world. First, we discussed how
an expected environment is essential for the brain and some of its functions to
develop normally. For example, we demonstrated that visual and auditory inputs
or a secure and interactive caregiving environment allows the related systems to
develop properly. Second, we emphasized that each neural circuit exhibits different
sensitive periods of development during which they are more malleable or vulner-
able, as their maturation is in progress. For example, we showed that the hippocam-
pal formation of birds and its related functioning is particularly vulnerable to food
deprivation if it occurs during a specific period of development and that nutritional
rehabilitation has no effect after this critical neurodevelopmental period had passed.
Such data has strong implications for our understanding of developmental needs
and vulnerabilities and can greatly impact the way individuals and societies think
about the definition of child well-being. Indeed, the available information reviewed
in this chapter stresses the fundamental need to provide certain basic environmental
conditions during early postnatal life to ensure that brain/behavior develop
appropriately. Again, examples in the development of the visual system show that
proper visual stimulations are essential for this system to mature normally. More-
over, as neural systems remain plastic for a certain period of time, it is essential to
keep in mind that these sensitive periods constitute windows of vulnerabilities and
potentialities. The Bucharest Early Intervention Project illustrates perfectly the
importance of such information. Whereas institutionalization has been shown to
have dramatic impacts on child development in a variety of functional domains,
foster care placement before a critical window of development closes has been
shown to counteract some of the potential negative outcomes of institutionalization.
Although many abandoned or orphaned children are still placed in an institutional
setting for lack of individual or societal resources or because of long-standing
cultural traditions, this scientific data has begun to raise consideration of the child
protection systems, and has influenced changes in the policies regarding these
practices. Furthering our understanding of the brain’s structural and functional
development and better defining the specific developmental windows during
which different systems might be particularly malleable or vulnerable will continue
to influence child policies and intervention programs.
Advances in developmental neuroscience are fundamental to achieve this goal.
In light of the information reviewed here, future studies exploring the interactions
between brain and experience during development will have to consider the fol-
lowing: First it is necessary to carefully define the specific environment to which
a child is exposed. Indeed, as mentioned in Sect. 8.4.5, the impact of intervention
targeting children living in an impoverished environment might provide fairly
different results than the same intervention applied to children living in
a standard environment. It would be reasonable to predict that the mechanisms of
plasticity used by an impaired system (or “by a system receiving impoverished
inputs”) might be different than the mechanism available to a typical developing
system.
Second, the timing and the duration of the experience should be precisely
defined. As we showed, the same experience will have dramatically different
impacts depending on the point it occurs in development. In addition, it is possible
that a very positive or a very negative influence may exert little or no effect on brain
development if it is of very short duration. Conversely, an experience of very short
duration might impact development if it occurs at the wrong sensitive time (see the
effect of early visual deprivation on face recognition).
Third, the domain of brain function under investigation should be well-charac-
terized. As discussed earlier, visual experience is likely to have an effect on brain
development for a relatively brief period of time (e.g., the first year of life), whereas
cognitive experience could impact the brain and behavior for a more extensive
period of time (throughout development).
Finally, it is crucial to have a clear understanding of the developmental status of
the brain when exposed to specific environmental influences. The examples pro-
vided in this chapter demonstrated that the brain’s sensitivity to potential environ-
mental influences will vary throughout development and will be distinct for each
neural circuit. Thus, after specifying the experience, the timing of the experience
and the domain of brain function, it is important to consider where the brain is in its
maturation when these three factors interact.
In sum, defining the critical periods during which particular developmental
processes occur is essential to fully understanding environmental impacts on
brain development. The increased number of studies investigating brain maturation
using neuroimaging tools during infancy and childhood will greatly improve our
knowledge in the near future. This information will considerably benefit the field of
intervention, as new treatment approaches based on a specified time period when
distinct brain circuits are most malleable will refine the impact of such practices.
Equally, this information might help to improve our understanding of our children,
leading to more age-appropriate and therefore higher-quality education and care
system. This field carries important implications on childhood policy and practice.
We hope this chapter has convinced the reader that child well-being should also
be considered at a neuroscientific level, allowing for an understanding of the
necessary and critical role of experiences to shape brain structure and functioning
during development.
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Educational Science and Child Well-Being
9
Sabine Andresen
9.1 Introduction
This chapter examines how a field covered by the three terms educational science,
education, and pedagogic, which I shall generally refer to here as educational
science, relates to the scientific concept of child well-being (CWB). For the sake
of international comparability, education, pedagogic, and educational science are
used synonymously in this chapter. Whereas education and pedagogic are more
practice-related, educational science refers to theories, concepts, and empirical
research. In German-speaking countries, there is an even more detailed debate that
also relates to the specific history of German humanistic pedagogic. However, these
differentiations do not make any relevant contributions to the aspects of CWB
addressed here. After clarifying how educational science has influenced not only
the status of children and adolescents but also the concepts of childhood and youth,
I shall present and discuss two key terms, education/Bildung and learning, that may
help to clarify what is in no way a self-evident relation between educational
science and CWB. I shall first address discussions on which dimensions of CWB
can be derived from educational science. This will then make it possible to assess
these dimensions with indicators taken from the latter.
I shall concentrate on two central theoretical concepts in educational science,
namely, education/Bildung and learning. Both have become particularly significant
since, for example, the UNICEF study on “Child Well-Being in Rich Countries”
(2007) introduced a specific understanding of “education” as one dimension of
well-being. In this understanding, what is meant primarily is the access to school
education, the acquisition of competencies, and, above all, the issue of
how academic achievement relates to the social origins of children and youths.
S. Andresen
Faculty of Educational Science, IDeA Research Center on Adaptive Education and Indivdual
Development on Children at Risk, Goethe-University Frankfurt, Frankfurt, Germany

250 S. Andresen
However, because the discourse on educational and learning theory in educational

science goes further, this chapter systematically examines the theoretical contribu-
tion of education/Bildung and learning to CWB. It formulates education/Bildung
and learning as a theoretical dimension of CWB in order to sketch how CWB can be
operationalized from the educational science perspective.
Following this introduction, I shall start my chapter by looking at the disciplin-
ary roots of educational science and the challenges these create for CWB.
I shall then go on to examine the perspectives on childhood and adolescence to
be found in educational science. In the next section, I shall look at what recent
education theory can contribute to a conceptualization of CWB. After that,
I shall discuss a further key concept in educational science – the concept of
learning – and examine the ways in which this is a key dimension of CWB.
In the final section, I shall draw conclusions on the relation between educational
science and CWB and show how important it is for educational theory to figure out
the otherness of CWB. But, first of all, it is necessary to delve into the roots of my
discipline.
9.2 Disciplinary Roots of Educational Science and the

Accompanying Challenges for CWB
Although educational science is to be found throughout the world, it has no clear-cut

disciplinary form (Tenorth 2009). This is why it is also not a standardized or fixed,
unequivocally identifiable discipline, and why there are also no standard and
universally relevant educational perspectives on CWB. Because education none-
theless possesses an indisputably identifiable core, plural terms are frequently used
such as “educational studies” or “sciences de l’éducation.” Hence, the discipline is
more of a loose bundle of thematic, methodological, and theoretical approaches to
the topic of education in formal, nonformal, and informal fields. However, orienta-
tion is provided by the institutions associated with education and thereby the
pedagogic fields of action. Not just in the German-speaking world, this has also
led to the formation of various subdisciplines such as school pedagogic, pedagogic
of early childhood, or, in light of the call for lifelong learning, adult education.
Internationally, the school is the most prominent action field, and therefore,
the most prominent subdiscipline is school pedagogic. International trends and
particularly the large-scale empirical comparisons of performance such as PISA
have shown that it is not just educational science alone that is concerned with issues
such as achievement and the acquisition of competence. The OECD has been
monitoring education in the PISA studies and a series of other international
comparisons since the end of the 1990s. These studies are using a complex set of
quantitative instruments to assess and measure school-based competencies at reg-
ular time intervals. PISA focuses on the competencies of 15-year-olds attending all
types of school in one country; other studies such as TIMMS concentrate on the
mathematical and scientific competencies of students in different cohorts, and
PIRLS compares international reading literacy and foreign languages. The PISA
9 Educational Science and Child Well-Being 251
studies, in particular, have been a frequent source of data for international studies of
CWB (Keung 2011), and in some countries – including Germany – they have led
to controversial debates and education reforms. Indeed, the rather poor PISA
findings on Germany have been one of the main reasons for the introduction of
regular all-day schooling.
Psychology and the neurosciences are also taking on an increasingly important
role. This can be seen particularly strongly in Germany, because the label
education/pedagogic has now been joined by the terms Bildungsforschung
[education research] or even Bildungswissenschaften [education sciences]. With
their empirically based understanding of science, both wish to distinguish them-
selves decisively from the humanistic tradition of education/pedagogic; they
hope that this will bring them into line with international research, and their
interest focuses particularly on teaching and school as well as teacher training.
There are various reasons for the diversity in educational science that can
only be sketched here. One is the particular constitution of the object “educa-
tion.” Education labels a problem field and set of issues that is very much
a public and not purely an academic concern (Andresen et al. 2009). All
cultures think about how to rear their offspring, their successes and failures in
doing so, and which are the best methods and didactics of teaching. However,
scientifically controlled work on this subject began only in the eighteenth
century. The development of sociology and psychology as well as the strength-
ening of the humanities in the universities has also been influential factors in the
further development of education as a university discipline. In summary, this
means that one has to assume the existence of major nationally and socially
determined differences. One particularly interesting example of this – above all
in relation to CWB – is the institutional framework in which social pedagogic
and social work are embedded. For example, in contrast to the United States and
Great Britain, both are assigned to educational science in Germany and
Switzerland. Moreover, countries vary in terms of the role of educational
science in teacher training. In other words, which of the different subdisciplines
of educational science finds its way into the canon of university degree courses
and research contexts varies internationally.
Accordingly, it can be seen that educational science possesses no uniform
theories and methods, it has no clearly demarcated set of topics, and, as
a scientific discipline, it has to relate to highly different fields of pedagogic practice.
Thomas Popkewitz (2000) has shown how globalization is changing the demands
on state education systems throughout the world and that this should also be viewed
as a major force shaping the science associated with these changes. This points to
the need to consider the close relationship and the dynamic between politics,
educational science, and pedagogic practice.
Educational reform has become a central item on the agendas of national governments and
international agencies (such as the OECD, UNICEF, and European Union’s task Force on
Human Resources, Education, Training, and Youth) that are concerned with modernization
as well as research projects such as the International Evaluation of Educational Achieve-
ment (IEA). In most nations, educational “reform” is considered to be a strategic site for
252 S. Andresen
interventions that promote the modernization of nations, enhance the viability of economic
systems within world markets, and link macro issues of regulations with micro patterns of
socialization and child rearing. (Popkewitz 2000, p. 3)
This dynamic has major consequences for educational science, as the German
researcher Heinz-Elmar Tenorth (2009) explains: “The institutional dynamic and
the safeguards of the process of ‘scientizing’ reflection on education do not follow
an impetus that comes primarily from within science or even just a desire for
knowledge, but are triggered primarily by societal concerns” (p. 853, translated).
However, this situation did not first emerge in the epoch of globalization analyzed
by Popkewitz. The dynamic between politics, practice, and science is part of
the history of the discipline, and it is precisely this that it shares with CWB within
the framework of both the sociology and the history of science. This is because
research on CWB has also been promoted by political discourse, and it is precisely
the international organizations mentioned by Popkewitz such as the OECD and
UNICEF that have proved to be major players in the definition and measurement of
its indicators.
Despite its historically determined and subject-related heterogeneity, educa-
tional science has nonetheless been able to develop its own status as a scientific
discipline, and, in recent decades, it has managed to meet international standards of
research – particularly those of empirical research. Nonetheless, it is still one of
those disciplines that address historical, philosophical, and sociological topics; that
have a strong theoretical orientation; and that possess a normative core. The latter
has repeatedly led to the criticism that it is unscientific. Hence, educational science
has to critically examine its normative basis and relate this to systematic theoretical
reflection and the standards of empirical research. However, the international
comparative studies such as PISA, TIMMS, and PIRLS have also influenced
educational science (see above). They have helped it to deal with international
comparisons and work with highly complex empirical procedures to a far greater
extent than in the past, and they have heightened its awareness of the relation
between achievement measurement and its political consequences.
These comments on the status of educational science as a discipline should show
that we cannot expect a homogeneous set of findings when analyzing the educational
perspective on CWB. This has yet to develop, and research on the indicators and
measurements of well-being is still not at the center of the discipline. In contrast, we
are only beginning to see a gradual increase in attention being paid to this interdis-
ciplinary research landscape. Nonetheless, the CWB movement diagnosed by Asher
Ben-Arieh (2005) has yet to reach educational science, and the accompanying pro-
grammatic change in perspective from, for example, well-becoming to well-being
has been acknowledged only indirectly or marginally. Indeed, even the outcome of
Ben-Arieh’s analyses of CWB research is not that clear-cut, as a search of the
literature shows. In their systematic database analysis, Pollard and Lee (2003) have
pointed out that CWB is also used very frequently in comparison to terms such as
quality of life, wellness, or life satisfaction, but that there is no standard orientation.
The well-being concept is often applied when the concern is with child development,
and its central focuses include cognitive, physical, psychological, economic, and
social domains. One interesting finding from Pollard and Lee is that the study of
psychological domains is mostly deficit oriented, whereas the other four are oriented
toward strengths and resources. In other words, simply using the term well-being in
no way guarantees a change of perspective that will fade out well-becoming and shift
attention from deficits to resources.
However, Pollard and Lee did not examine the relevant publications in educa-
tional science. A personal search of German- and English-language publications
since 2000 in textbooks and relevant journals revealed that CWB still hardly ever
appears in German-language educational science. The term cannot be found in any
German-language educational science textbook, and both the term and the topic
tend to be underrepresented in the relevant journals. CWB is considered only within
the context of the theoretical discussion on the capability approach (Albus et al.
2009; Otto and Ziegler 2010) and in educational-science-based empirical work on
childhood (Andresen et al. 2010; World Vision 2010). The focus is more on
thematically linked issues within such fields as happiness (Brumlik 2002; Zirfas
2011), health education, and pedagogic ethics (Graumann 2006). English-language
publications, in contrast, do reveal some educationally oriented analyses of CWB
(Keung 2011). These focus particularly on school, the acquisition of competencies,
and academic achievement and, in part, also on violence and its prevention among
peers, as well as child poverty and the fight against child poverty. Antonia Keung
(2011) has measured education in terms of formal qualifications as a function of
age, gender, ethnicity, and social class for the studies on “the well-being of children
in the UK” (Bradshaw 2011), drawing decisively on PISA data. “Additionally,
the chapter reviews how schoolchildren feel about their well-being at school”
(Keung 2011, p. 112). Here as well, she analyzed survey data, although she also
included primary data on school climate and satisfaction. Finally, Keung also
discussed the relation between educational outcomes and social background
that is relevant for CWB while also taking account of dropout rates and the
social exclusion of adolescents from all systems. In all, the English-language
discourse reveals a clearer position on the issue of what schools contribute to
CWB or how they tend to impede it. As Munn (2010) says:
Schools are important public institutions that provide a universal service and are one of the
first places in which young people learn about personal and social relationships that extend
beyond the family and social community. They, therefore, play an important role in promot-
ing well-being and in detecting when a young person’s well-being may be at risk. (p. 91)
In summary, it can be seen that CWB still has to become a systematic point of
reference for research in educational science. Up to now, the discipline has
addressed it only marginally or with regard to specific themes. In particular, it
has not yet been able to realize its theoretical potential. Within the international
context, the educational discourse on well-being has concentrated on the school, but
this does not exhaust the contemporary pedagogic action fields and tasks. However,
if one proceeds from a traditional and very persistent assumption in education, it
is precisely the change in perspective from well-becoming to well-being that
reveals one of education’s potentially systematic difficulties with the concept.
254 S. Andresen
Education was and continues to be oriented primarily toward well-becoming.

Overcoming this orientation and granting children and adolescents as well as
the child and youth life phases their own special status of equal rank to that
of adults is in no way a new challenge. It was already called for during the first
quarter of the twentieth century by pedagogues such as Janusz Korczak and
Siegfried Bernfeld.
Proceeding from these first systematic findings, if we want to understand the
relation between educational science, research, and the discourses over CWB, it is
important to ask where central aspects of well-being can be found in educational
theory formulation, which empirical research perspectives reveal potential links to
the international empirical research on well-being, which topics in educational
science link up with CWB, and what educational science can contribute to the
formulation, explanation, study, and measurement of indicators of CWB.
9.3 Educational Science Perspectives on Childhood and

Adolescence
9.3.1 Childhood
Since the reception of the new sociology of childhood in educational science,

concepts of childhood have been classified within the social–constructivist
paradigm. Conceiving childhood as a social construction has made it possible
to examine various differential phenomena that are relevant to childhood on
several levels. To a large extent, this has enabled educational science to
successfully distance itself from earlier essentialist assumptions about the nature
of the child.
The social constructivist approach does not make it necessary to cast doubt
on the special nature of the developing child and how childhood differs from
adulthood. In educational science, it orients the concept of childhood far more
toward its sociospatial and temporally anchored contexts. Treating childhood as
a construction does not mean focusing on abstract ideas that are detached completely
from the daily life of the child, the child’s own self-will, and the child’s construc-
tions of reality. Childhood is always influenced by the society and by the prevailing
visions of a “good childhood.”
Educational research often distinguishes between research on childhood and
research on children. Research on childhood addresses how the life phase of
childhood has developed and changed and which cultural, social, and political
ideas of the child can be found in a society. It studies ideas about what a child is;
concepts of childhood; the relation between childhood, adolescence, and adulthood;
but also the relation between childhood, education, and development. In his work
Sisyphos oder die Grenzen der Erziehung [Sisyphus or the limits of education]
published in 1928, the childhood and education theorist Siegfried Bernfeld
already emphasized that “education is the sum of a society’s reactions to the
fact of development” (p. 157, translated). He used this statement to express
how the social and cultural shaping of childhood reflects a society’s ideas on human
development.
Research on children, in contrast, concentrates on the ways in which single
children see and act, on their forms of expression, or their bodily perceptions. It
assumes explicitly that it is in no way just adults who can claim to be competent
providers of information on children and childhood, but that children themselves
are also able to do this. The lifeworld of children should be explored through their
own eyes.
The two approaches complement each other within educational research, and, on
one major point, they both agree: The dominant belief in both research on children
and research on childhood is that this first phase of life is an independent period
within a human being’s life course. Children are more than not-yet-developed
adults, and childhood is more than just one necessary preliminary stage before
adulthood.
Starting roughly in the eighteenth century, children began to be perceived as
individuals. This simultaneously changed not only the ideas about but also the
conditions of the phase of life known as childhood. The result was paradigmatic
controversies. These included the question whether the neonate enters the world as
a tabula rasa or as a predetermined human being. Both ideas had consequences for the
social and pedagogic approach to children. If one sees the child as a tabula rasa, then
education only has to find the appropriate “writing”; if, in contrast, one sees the child
as a predetermined being, then education is subject to constraints right from the start.
This was also associated with the moral ideas that were becoming increasingly
significant during this period, for example, whether one should view children as
being good and innocent in principle or as sinful beings right from their birth. If one
viewed childhood as a time of innocence and children as the better human beings –
as the Romanticists did – then the function of education was to protect children
from the negative influences of society. If, in contrast, one assumed that children
were sinful beings from birth and childhood should be seen primarily as a phase of
extreme imperfection, then the primary function of education was to discipline the
nature of the child.
However, there was agreement on one aspect: Supporters of both perspectives
emphasized the importance of education for the development of children, for the
survival of the human race, and for progress in society (Boas 1966). This belief in
the importance of education gradually spread throughout society.
The increasing significance from the early eighteenth century onward of the
child’s education and therefore of pedagogic was due more broadly to the realiza-
tion that humanity in general and children in particular not only need education but
are also equipped with a basic ability to learn. Education and childhood theorists
combined this belief with the goal of perfecting the human being and, by perfecting
the child, perfecting the whole of society. In the eighteenth century, it was Jean-
Jacques Rousseau the philosopher from Geneva who found the words to express
this. The opening sentence of his still famous novel E´mile, ou Traité de’éducation
(1762) was the socially critical comment: “Everything is good as it leaves the hands
of the Author; everything degenerates in the hands of man.”
256 S. Andresen
Rousseau, whom many pedagogues love to stylize as the “inventor of child-

hood,” delivered a popular and long-lasting perception of children, namely, as
primarily helpless victims of adults and a wicked society. In historical childhood
research, this has led to a major controversy over the course of the civilization
process for children. Did it lead to them being increasingly excluded from the
interesting world of adults and imprisoned in separate worlds like Kindergarten and
school, as the historian Ariès (1962) has concluded for French society? Or did the
gradual progress in society since the eighteenth century lead to the development of
an awareness of the needs of children, as Lloyd de Mause (1982) has emphasized in
his psychohistorical studies? For de Mause, the history of childhood has been
dominated by endless suffering. He believed that the level of civilization in
a society can be judged by the way it handles its children.
Pedagogic in particular started to become highly influential in the twentieth
century, and this had an enormous impact on the idea of childhood. An increasing
pedagogization of childhood experience, the spread of preschool institutions, the
efforts of progressive teaching to introduce a “pedagogic proceeding from
the child” as the reform-oriented German teaching associations demanded, or the
US-American variant of “child-centered education” led to a new awareness in society.
In Germany, for example, this awareness expressed itself in a great enthusiasm
for the progressive writings of the Swedish pedagogue and feminist Ellen Key.
These were first published in Germany in 1902 under the title of Das Jahrhundert
des Kindes and in Great Britain and the United States in 1909 under the title of
The Century of the Child. Although the German elementary school structure of
a local 4-year common schooling of children regardless of their age or gifts was not
introduced until the 1920s, its continued dominance until today shows how strongly
these new pedagogic ideas have come to influence the shaping of childhood.
However, the development of scientific knowledge on children and childhood
played a central role internationally and not just in German history. The
US-American “progressive education” and the success of, for example, the
American kindergarten movement at the beginning of the twentieth century were
based to a major extent on the scientific expertise of “child studies.” One of its
leading early proponents was the psychologist G. Stanley Hall, whose monumental
study not only highlighted the difference between the child and the adolescent
phase but also represented a combination of scientific knowledge and pedagogic
practice (Andresen 2005).
The reform pedagogue Ellen Key called for a strong scientific orientation in order
to treat children correctly and progressively. She hoped that this would come from
experimental and interpretative child psychology and child studies. This strength-
ened the marked distinction between the two life phases of childhood and youth and
certainly led to an increased sensitivity for the particular characteristics of both.
Studies by William Stern, Martha Muchow, Lev Vygotsky, or Sigmund Freud in
the first decades of the twentieth century and later by Jean Piaget, by Anna Freud,
Erik H. Erikson, or René Spitz generated scientific knowledge on human develop-
ment, on the relation between cognition and language, the acquisition of social
space, childhood crises, and the role of nature and nurture in childhood personality
development. However, today’s pedagogues have to bear in mind not only numer-
ous scientific findings but also pedagogic insights such as that of Janusz Korczak on
the need to respect the child’s dignity.
Criticism of the socialization and development paradigms led to the idea of the
child as an actor who is not only socialized passively but also actively shapes
her/his reality and even socializes adults in turn. Since the 1970s, international child
studies in the social sciences have no longer viewed children primarily as teachable
beings with a need to learn, but as active agents. However, the educational per-
spective on children has found it increasingly hard to accept this, because it focuses
more strongly than sociology on the particular vulnerability of the child.
In all, the relevant aspect for this discourse is an idea that has asserted itself
during the process of modernization. This is the idea of creating specific spaces for
children in which to shape childhood. However, this seems to be an ambivalent
approach. Protection, for example, can take fundamentally different connotations:
It can promote integrity just as much as it can permit paternalism. The resulting
differentiation between children and adults nonetheless already emphasizes the oft-
forgotten dependence of adults: Human life is of limited duration, and the species
needs offspring to survive. In this framework, Hannah Arendt (1958) contrasts
Martin Heidegger’s arguments over the finiteness of life with the idea of birth as
a new beginning. Arendt considers one central reason for the emergence of gener-
ational concepts to be the continuous confrontation with novelty through the child.
In her work Vom Leben des Geistes [Life of the mind], she draws on Augustine
when reflecting on the conditions of beginning and of freedom by virtue of birth.
She treats the fact of birth as the access to a freedom to which we are bound
“whether it suits us or whether we would prefer to withdraw from its frightening
responsibility . . . . This dead point, if it is such, can be overcome only through
a further mental faculty, one no less secret than the faculty of beginning: the power
of judgment” (Arendt 1979, p. 207, translated from the German).
In a book first published in the United States, The Human Condition (1958),
Arendt discusses the human dependencies and the fundamental activities of labor,
work, and action. Her ideas are helpful when formulating a theory that
views childhood as the outcome of public, political framing. Labor, work, and action
correspond, according to Arendt, with the fundamental conditions of life, being in
the world, and plurality. Above all, however, they are interwoven with the most
general conditions of human life: natality and mortality. In awareness of the temporal
finiteness of human life, labor ensures the survival of the individual and the contin-
uation of the species, whereas work builds an artificial world that has a degree of
permanence beyond the lives of individual actors. Finally, action makes it possible to
set up and maintain political common spaces and to create conditions for
the continuity across generations, for memory, and thereby for history. Action, the
political activity par excellence, is bound explicitly to human beingness, to the
fundamental condition of natality, because every newcomer can make a new begin-
ning and thus possesses the ability to act. In this sense, Arendt views natality as
a decisive element of political thought, comparable with the significance of mortality
for metaphysical philosophical thought.
258 S. Andresen
Arendt calls for a strict separation of the world of adults as a political public
space from the sphere of children, and for adults to deal with beginning conserva-
tively and protectively. When adults apply this “conservative” approach, this grants
children their chance to start something new, to do the unexpected (Arendt 1958).
Here she accordingly formulates a clear educational task and calls for a strict
separation between children and adults within the generational order. It is only
this separation that reveals whether we love our children enough. When Arendt
talks about education, then she is visualizing an education space in which children
develop before they enter the world of adults. In this education space, children
should become familiarized with the power of judgment and thinking that will
enable them to take on responsibility as adults.
Hence, the increasing importance of education and training in childhood aiming
toward a “planned adaptation” to society also changed the shaping of childhood and
the idea of being a child. And, not only this, the institutions for growing up in such
as family or school changed as well. The central perspectives of educational science
refer to this situation. Nowadays, institutions share between them the task of
socializing children, that is, preparing them for society without destroying their
individuality. Recent socialization research, which is of central importance to
educational science, reveals that this is a process of personality development in
the sense of a productive processing of physical, mental, and environmental givens.
The child intervenes in this process and shapes it just as much as the parents.
Accordingly, the child is a co-constructor in the socialization process. In research,
this perspective has led to a greater effort to take the shaping and co-constructing
achievements of children seriously and to study them in more detail in order to
understand them better.
9.3.2 Youth
Pedagogic work is also always directed toward youth. Analyses in educational

science, theoretical questions, and empirical studies address youth as a whole as
well as its individual members. Pedagogic history shows how the developmental
phenomena and problems associated with the youth phase can be seen as a major
starting point for systematic thinking. Hence, youth will be viewed here as an
effective historical concept for educational science. Such a concept orders, struc-
tures, and evaluates not only information, knowledge, and ideas but also prejudices.
Although these are all subject to historical change, the basic concept of youth as
a special phase in the life course has remained more or less constant. The concept is
not just decisive for scientific analyses and historical interpretations. It can also
influence the self-perception of individuals or guide particular practices such as
pedagogic youth work in the public sector.
One variant of this concept has been of major significance for pedagogic since
the eighteenth century. Starting with Rousseau, entry into the youth phase came to
be conceived as a second birth of the human being, and youth came to be viewed as
a special phase of development. By the end of the nineteenth century, the youth
phase was receiving more attention than ever before. Since then, it has become
a much loved topic in research, politics, business, cultural studies, and education –
a topic that adults discuss, deplore, and problematize. Youth is examined in a
pedagogic, anxious, critical, idealized, political, or even envious way. However,
such strong attention does not correspond inevitably to a consistent commitment to
actually addressing youth’s concerns, needs, or interests.
The youth phase has now become one of the central conditions of growing up in
modern societies. It is framed by the family and the peer group and by school,
leisure time, vocational training, and study. Youths benefit from special legal
protection, are freed from certain obligations, and have limited rights compared
to adults. Nonetheless, they are exposed to structural changes just as much as any
other age group, and the risks in modern societies such as unemployment do not
pass them by.
In 1925, Siegfried Bernfeld, as mentioned above, defined education as the sum
of all of a society’s reactions to the fact of development. Since the twentieth century
at the latest, these reactions have included the idea that not only childhood but also
youth needs to be framed and shaped in a special way. In this context, I shall call
this socially organized pattern based on the family a moratorium. A moratorium is
a temporally limited freedom from duties granted to achieve a preordained goal.
This goal is the production of an adult who is integrated into society and willing to
produce and reproduce. Youths do not always subject themselves unconditionally
to this goal, so the sum of all social reactions to the fact of development also
includes numerous risk discourses over, for example, deviant behavior, delin-
quency, or drug abuse. It is clear that educational science is directly involved in
this moratorium, and it has always had a strong interest in findings from youth
research in all the different disciplines.
The expansion of youth research has been closely tied to society’s interest in
youth and the problem awareness for this special phase of life between childhood
and adulthood. This expansion has led to a differentiation into psychological,
sociological, cultural, and educational fields, resulting in the exceptionally hetero-
geneous and many-sided discipline we know today.
Psychologically oriented youth research was particularly responsible for the
differentiation between puberty and adolescence, although this was soon picked
up by educational science as well. This differentiation continues to play a role in the
discourses of educational science, and it also impacts on our everyday understand-
ing. Puberty is mostly used to describe the onset of sexual maturity. Research in this
field then focuses particularly on a young person’s bodily and hormonal changes
and the accompanying social and psychological transformations. Adolescence, in
contrast, describes a phase that mostly extends beyond puberty. Research on
adolescence has generated knowledge about, for example, the process of separation
from the parental home, the orientation toward the peer group, the exploration of
sexuality, and adolescent identity and self-discovery.
The discourse over youth in educational science reveals that the youth phase is
not self-explanatory. We have no clear biological or natural markers that can be
used to draw valid conclusions on how to deal appropriately with relations between
260 S. Andresen
the generations, with youth education, or with meaningful prohibitions or freedoms.

As already pointed out for childhood, the understanding of what is meant by youth
during a certain historical period is a social construct. Although we can observe and
describe phenomena such as physical development and sexual maturity, this does
not lead to any set prescriptions regarding how to understand and approach the
youth phase or how to understand and approach those we call youths. Youth is
accordingly subject to historical change.
Like both children and adults, youths are self-willed; or, to put it scientifically,
they are subjects, actors, or co-constructors of their reality. This means that the
social construct of the youth phase is not just created by “external” conditions such
as the parental home, pedagogic institutions, youth-oriented services, dress, music,
or vocational training. Youths themselves play their part, even when this takes the
form of evading all efforts to politicize, pedagogize, or domesticate them.
Some areas of youth research motivated by educational science have tried to
focus on this dynamic. Bernfeld described the genesis of youth culture and youth
research as follows: “What has drawn our attention to the problem of youth is the
conflict currently experienced so vividly by large sectors of youth between what
they want. . . and the existing institutions that adults provide for their lives on the
basis of their naive concept of youth” (Bernfeld 1915/1991, p. 70, translated). The
second half of the twentieth century saw the firm establishment of the idea that
youth in general is a time for education, vocational training, development, and
identity formation. However, this did not lead to the creation of homogeneous life
conditions. Everyday life as a youth was in no way the same for boys compared to
girls or for those from middle class compared to socially weak milieus; the distri-
bution of chances and risks in the process of growing up remained unequal. Essen-
tially, this has changed very little right up to the present day. Nonetheless, the idea or
expectation that it is normal for the youth phase to take the form of a psychosocial
education moratorium has become firmly established in society. This term can be
traced back to the youth theorist and psychoanalyst Erik H. Erikson.
Erikson also worked out that one of the central developmental tasks confronting
youth in the form of a crisis is the formation of a distinctive positive identity.
Hardly any other psychological term has been adopted more readily in other
disciplines as well as in everyday language than this concept of identity. Erikson’s
analysis of the epigenesis of identity was based far more on personality theory than
biology. He characterized a developmental logic that has to be conceived as
a planned sequence of successive stages that each differ through the addition of
something new.
9.4 Education as a Dimension of CWB
9.4.1 Education as a “Fuzzy and Critical Concept”
In this section, I shall draw on more recent education theory in order to examine its
potential for a conceptualization of CWB. (Education is equated here with the
German term Bildung. Bildung goes somewhat beyond the English term education
in that it is related to normative ideas on individual development.) Although all
national and international studies on CWB take education as a central dimension,
they operationalize it in different ways. Nonetheless, and possibly also for prag-
matic reasons, they all focus on school performance. We now have a series of
comparative studies on this, and we also know how modern societies regulate
access to opportunities decisively over the educational qualifications gained in
school. When defining education as a dimension of CWB, this suggests that
it would be logical to define it in terms of school education. However, this is
inadequate from the perspective of educational science. Although “education” is
a basic key concept in the German-language context, no other country seems to
make the traditional German distinction between education [Bildung] and child
rearing [Erziehung]. (This section is based on Andresen (2009).) Nonetheless,
there is also an internationally relevant theoretical analysis of the phenomenon of
education in, for example, the philosophy of education, and this also distinguishes
education from child rearing, defining the latter as an intentional action directed
toward the behavior of children and youths.
Whereas there is no great difficulty in understanding education as a dimension
of CWB, how far could education make a systematic contribution to its conceptu-
alization? First of all, such an approach makes things more complex, because hardly
any other concept in educational science reveals such a diversity of different
subtopics as education – especially in German-language monographs, edited
books, or articles. Moreover, when we go beyond educational science, we find
that other disciplines such as psychology, sociology, economics, or, for example,
history and literary studies and, in recent years, even brain research are also doing
work in educational theory. Not only is this scientific interest joined by a strong
public concern, but education is also becoming increasingly a focus of national
associations and international economic interests as represented by the World Bank
or the International Monetary Fund. Education is also guiding the policies and
strategies of international cooperations and organizations such as the OECD
(Popkewitz 2000). However, this development is not only a reaction to a lack of
resources and an expression of control interests but also a sign of a growing
awareness of the importance of education for individual life courses and as
a strategic key position for political activity.
Because education can be understood not only as a kind of “fuzzy concept” with
vague contours though numerous thematic interfaces but also as a “critical concept”
with its own language for criticizing education systems, there is a clear need for
a theoretical appraisal of CWB from the perspective of educational science
(Andresen 2009). Education and CWB are both fuzzy concepts, because they
focus on not only objective framing conditions but also the subjective, inner
dynamics of the individual. Regarding the latter, CWB concerns subjective
well-being and reports on subjective satisfaction, whereas education concerns
that which the philosophy of education tradition understands as self-education or
personal development. Up to now, both have resisted any complete and generally
valid definition or measurement.
262 S. Andresen
Both education and CWB also have to be understood as critical concepts

aiming to deliver a better explanation of what is good for children and youths
and to use research to influence political decision-making processes. This also
means that both concepts have a normative basis. Approaches in education theory
cannot function without this normative basis: They are always concerned with
what separates education from noneducation or semi-education, which ideals are
associated with education, how it gives people the capability to be free, and also
how education is linked to an understanding of human dignity. The same applies
to the theoretical discourse on CWB. Here as well, there is a fundamental nor-
mative embedment, because well-being focuses on ideas about the good life and
on the good way to grow up, but – and this is what this discourse has in common
with that on educational theory – without specifying precisely what this good
consists of for everybody. Not only historically but also and in particular in the
current discourse in education theory, this concerns aspects of justice, which can
also be linked up systematically with CWB, and, finally, it also concerns a very
specific synthesis of science and politics. The educational philosopher Gerd
Biesta (2003, p. 62) has even said that education is two-faced: “One face is
educational, the other is political.” The same applies to CWB, because it always
concerns not only political action fields but also pedagogic practice. Hence, there
are clear parallels between education and CWB on a structural level. In the
following, I shall try to explain what systematic benefits can be gained from an
educational theory analysis of CWB. I shall distinguish between three approaches
within the recent education theory discussion. These represent different
weightings that also play a role in society and touch on the question of how we
understand childhood and youth and what goal we finally want to pursue with
education. I shall present them in detail here, because they offer systematic
interfaces with the challenges facing the formulation of theories on CWB. Even
when conceptualizing CWB, it is necessary to clarify how we understand child-
hood and youth and how we relate the social framing conditions in which children
grow up to ideas on a “good childhood” or “good education.” I shall draw on
recent discussions in education theory and address the “human capital model of
education,” the “capability model of education,” and the “rights-based model
of education” (Robeyns 2006; Andresen 2009). The first refers to education as
a central resource for the vocational training of human capital; the second, to
education as a capability with the goal of positive freedom and the acquisition of
abilities; and, finally, the third refers to the right to universal education given by
the UN Convention on the Rights of the Child. These are relevant approaches in
the current discourse on education theory; they have the potential to provide
a theoretical foundation for empirical research, and they reflect international
social challenges.
When discussing an approach to CWB in education theory, I shall focus on these
three models as follows: The first section will address the relation between educa-
tion and justice and thereby examine the normative implications. The second will
look at the relation between education and economics, because this reveals the
material basis for ideas in education theory. Finally, the third section will discuss
the relation between education and rights. In all, this should show that all three
models deliver important indicators for operationalizing the well-being dimension
known as education.
9.4.2 Education and Justice
Placing justice and education in one and the same context is not just specific
to modern welfare state societies. In developing countries as well, education in
the form of school education is a major indicator of, for example, child
health care, better nutrition, and the possibility of having one’s own income.
Accordingly, life opportunities are also distributed over education, and this
brings us to questions of justice. In particular, the demand that education should
also be a critical concept has made justice not only a benchmark in education
theories but also a crystallization point in the growing up of children. In his latest
book, The Idea of Justice, Amartya Sen (2010) writes about “three children
and a flute.”
Let me illustrate the problem with an example in which you have to decide which of three
children – Anne, Bob, and Carla – should get a flute about which they are quarreling. Anne
claims the flute on the ground that she is the only one of the three who knows how to play it
(the others do not deny this), and that it would be quite unjust to deny the flute to the only
one who can actually play it. If that is all you knew, the case for giving the flute to the first
child would be strong. (pp. 12–13)
However, from a perspective focusing on the question of justice, there is more to

consider. This is because Bob now suggests that he should get the flute because he is
the only one who is so poor that he has nothing to play with, and the two girls do not
dispute this. Then Carla also claims the flute, because she was the one who invested
months of hard work in making the instrument, “and just when she had finished her
work, ‘just then’, she complains, ‘these expropriators came along to try to grab the
flute away from me’” (Sen 2010, p. 13).
Sen uses this scenario to point out how theorists from different schools
of thought – utilitarians, economic egalitarians, or libertarians – would arrive
at straightforward solutions to the problem – giving good reasons in each case.
The economic egalitarian would support the child in poverty, Bob; the libertarian
would support the maker of the flute, Carla; and the utilitarian, perhaps with some
wavering, would support the flute player, Anne. Hence, that which should serve as
the benchmark for justice – be it ability, production, or deficit – can be justified
systematically in theory, but cannot be clarified so unequivocally in action. The
conflict concerns which basic principles can generally be differentiated for the
allocation of resources.
They [the principles] are about how social arrangements should be made and what social
institutions should be chosen, and through that, about what social realizations would come
about. It is not simply that the vested interests of the three children differ (though of course
they do), but that the three arguments each point to a different type of impartial and
non-arbitrary reason. (Sen 2010, p. 15)
264 S. Andresen
Sen is pointing to the problem that there can be no easily detected and
completely just social arrangement on which an impartial agreement would emerge.
The production of just social arrangements for the relation between the gener-
ations and for the education of children and youths is a fundamental issue in
educational science. It is linked to questions of partiality and normativity just as
much as to ideas on whether pedagogic should actually pursue the goal of helping
people to be as happy as possible. Particularly when taking the children’s perspec-
tive, it is worth considering whether to replace the systematic reasoning about
justice on the basis of principles with one referring to feelings and, above all, to
moral feelings such as wrath over injustice. Possessing no idea of what it means to
be treated unjustly, according to the philosopher Judith Shklar (1997), means
possessing no knowledge of morals and not leading a moral life. Sen also analyzes
the interplay between wrath and reasoning as a form of resistance to injustice,
referring particularly to the early eighteenth-century feminist Mary Wollstonecraft.
While Wollstonecraft is quite remarkable in combining wrath and reasoning in the same
work (indeed, alongside each other), even pure expressions of discontent and disappoint-
ment can make their own contributions to public reasoning if they are followed by
investigation (perhaps undertaken by others) of whatever reasonable basis there might be
for the indignation. (Sen 2010, p. 392)
This brings us to the already classic theories of justice of John Rawls or Ronald
Dworkin, combined with the assumption that the significance of these theories for
education theory is that they understand individual freedom as being a basic
premise of justice theory and as being central for just social relations. The interna-
tional discussion on justice theory reveals a generally close relation between justice
and freedom and attributes an essential role to education (Brighouse 2004;
Brighouse and Unterhalter 2008).
The capability approach is a further justice theory approach with origins in
economics. However, it does not link justice to the loss of freedom, and addresses
human development instead of human capital. It was formulated decisively by
Amartya Sen (1992) and then further developed in social philosophy by Martha
Nussbaum (1999, 2006). The capability approach offers an access to the relation
between education and justice, because it addresses the capability of deciding and
acting and how each individual can achieve what she is able to do and be under
complex social conditions. Drawing on Aristotelian ethics, the question of a “good
life” and a successful practical way of living is particularly relevant for Nussbaum,
but with the provision that this should not be determined through paternalism or
authoritarianism. She favors a strongly vague conception of the good and points out
that creating the framing conditions for this is a public, that is, political responsibility.
However, the status of “education” is not unequivocal within this framework
oriented toward justice theory. For Sen, education is one of the central capabilities.
It is a basis for all capabilities, and one of his main concerns as expressed in the
“Dewey Lectures” is “to explore a moral approach that sees persons from two
different perspectives: well-being and agency” (Sen 1985, p. 203). For Nussbaum
as well, education is “a key to all human capabilities” (Nussbaum 2006), whereby
she links this particularly to empowerment. In her analysis of liberal higher

education in the United States, she proposes three central capabilities: critical
self-examination, the ideal of the world citizen, and the development of the
narrative imagination (Nussbaum 1997; Walker 2008). This shows how Nussbaum
aims toward a concept of education as “cultivating humanity.”
Sen has developed a multidimensional typology of education, his “uses of
education.” In this, education is first an intrinsic value; second, an instrumental
personal value; and third, an instrumental social value (Dreze and Sen 1999). This
typology provides a major link to justice in the debate on education theory, because
education is something that should basically be universally available. This is why
the British discussion presents the approach as a framework for reimagining
education and justice (Walker 2008). How education fits into the social conditions
of equality and justice is one of the major issues in English-language equality
research. This has worked out five relevant dimensions for education: equal respect
and recognition; equality of resources; equality of love, care, and solidarity;
equality of power; and working and learning as equals (Baker et al. 2004).
A justice theory approach to education can link up meaningfully with CWB in
one specific sense: the importance of a just treatment of children and youth. Certain
lines of discussion in CWB also take a justice theory direction; there are also
interfaces with the capability approach’s question of the “good life” (Albus et al.
2009). A justice-related definition of education as a dimension of CWB makes it
necessary for the individual indicators to satisfy criteria of the good life. For
example, it is then necessary to ask whether Nussbaum’s three indicators of critical
self-examination, ideal of the world citizen, and the development of the narrative
imagination are appropriate for a conceptualization of CWB. Critical self-
examination can be transformed pedagogically into the ability to reflect, criticize,
and view oneself impartially; the ideal of world citizen would be political educa-
tion, and development of narrative imagination would contain, from a pedagogic
perspective, the ability to open oneself to literature, to recognize oneself in the
stories of others, or to learn to respect the ways of life of others. What is clear in this
approach is that education combined with the idea of justice covers more than just
assessing performance in a certain school grade, and could therefore also be more
far-reaching as a dimension of CWB.
9.4.3 Education and Economics
International student protests against study fees, demonstrations for free access to
education institutions, or the discussion on free preschool education – these are all
current examples for the economic side of education or, more precisely, access to
education. Three sets of topics are relevant here: first, the returns that education can
bring; second, the question how returns can be increased through optimal produc-
tion; and third, the financing of education.
Particularly in the context of “human capital” theory, education points to modes
of economic production and reproduction, and the focus is not just on the question
266 S. Andresen
of the social but also the individual returns. Human capital theory has shown how
education can be understood as an investment decision, which social expectations
and investments can be associated with it, and which individual behavior may
result. In this context, the function of education is considered to be directed toward
the success of the individual on the qualification and labor markets and to how well-
informed she is as a customer or investor (Becker 1993). However, any calculation
of returns to education reveals how difficult it is to trace the effective returns back to
investments in education alone. Neither econometric models, nor twin studies in
psychology, nor experiments in general have yet been able to clarify the actual
individual return (Wolter 2009). This question of causality likewise applies to the
evaluation of the returns to investments in education for society as a whole or how
far total returns are greater than the sum of all individual returns.
Human capital theory was formulated decisively in the 1960s by the Chicago
economists Gary Becker and Theodore Schulz. This paradigm views the relevance
of education in terms of the acquisition of knowledge and skills as an investment in
the “human being” as a production factor. One central impulse from recent eco-
nomics for educational science comes from the work of the economist Heckman on
the returns to investment in early education. Heckman’s calculations have deci-
sively confirmed the economic added value of early education, and in many
countries, his findings have led to more intensive pedagogic efforts in this field.
The long-term returns will reveal themselves in the years to come.
The Belgian philosopher Ingrid Robeyns, however, characterizes primarily
economic arguments as an instrumental outlook on education: “The instrumental
personal economic role of education is that it can help a person to find a job, to be
less vulnerable on the labour market, to be better informed as a consumer, to be
more able to find information on economic opportunities, and so forth” (Robeyns
2006, Onlinepaper, p. 3). However, what can be seen clearly in this context since
the 1990s is an increased pairing of market and competition-theory issues with
educational theory issues in modernization theory debates that have adopted
“knowledge” and the “knowledge society” as key terms (Ball 1993; Bridges
and McLaughlin 1994; Peters and Humes 2003). As Peters and Humes
(2003, p. 1) put it, “It is not fashionable to claim that economic progress depends
upon knowledge and the utilisation of knowledge – the so-called ‘knowledge
economy.’ Yet economic progress and expansion has always depended on new
ideas and innovation.”
In sum, it is clear that the cycle of production of education, returns to education,
and financing of education impacts strongly on the lives of children and youths, and
it also seems to be evident that education has its utility on both an individual and
a societal level. However, the justifications for the efforts to increase returns or to
introduce efficiency criteria are based on different concepts. A society that
focuses on performance in the interest of its national economy and neglects the
cultivation of individual meaningfulness and life satisfaction while simultaneously
encouraging individual responsibility for education is pursuing more of a neoliberal
concept. In this context, individual responsibility for one’s own education becomes
a particularly relevant issue. In contrast, a society that invests in the most egalitarian
education landscape possible and tries to exclude competitive criteria from the
education system is pursuing – though unable to guarantee – equal opportunity.
Nonetheless, one thing is clear from an economic perspective: Simply increasing
the investment capital does not result in any greater returns, in any greater
efficiency. The education system always seems to also depend on other incentives
and on quality criteria.
The critical response to a more neoliberal approach to education theory is that it
subjects education and those being educated to competition and that it grants
autonomy only to serve the principle of optimizing performance rather than to
increase subjective freedom. For example, Robeyns (2006) has criticized that the
approach to education from the “human capital” perspective is concerned exclu-
sively with making those educated fit to work and it equates education with fitness
for work. Recent analyses in educational science have drawn on the work of Pierre
Bourdieu and Michel Foucault and established a promising education theory
approach to the mechanisms, functions, and effects of the economization of edu-
cation and a critical response to the neoliberal criticism of the welfare state and its
education policy. Feminist analyses in education theory also critically reject the
idea of viewing those being educated primarily as a human capital resource.
Likewise, a holistic perspective on education leads to criticism of an economics-
based education theory:
Summing up, understanding education exclusively as human capital is severely limiting

and damaging, as it does not recognise the intrinsic importance of education, nor the
personal and collective instrumental social roles of education. Note that this does not
imply that we should completely do away with seeing education as human capital; instead,
it is important to recognize that there is more to education than human capital. (Robeyns
2006, Onlinepaper, p. 7; see Andresen et al. 2008)
In conclusion, economic aspects play an important role in the operation and

organization of education. However, it is always necessary to clarify which purpose
lies behind, for example, individual and societal investments in education, and
which benchmarks are used to measure effectiveness and efficiency. We also find
a similarly contoured debate over economic interests in the theoretical consider-
ations on CWB, and we should not lose sight of the discourse that wanted to see
well-being understood as an alternative concept to the gross national product. When
considering how the dimension of education can be understood, defined, and
operationalized for CWB and which systematic contribution to its conception this
can deliver, the relation between education and economics reveals the following:
Education is a question of individual access to different educational institutions;
linked to this are both individual and familial private investments as well as
public economic resources, that is, social investments by society in educational
infrastructure. This permits the derivation of further indicators such as whether all
children in one birth cohort have comparable access to basic education in reading,
writing, and arithmetic; whether free access to teaching materials is broad or only
basic; whether how large school classes are; and whether or not an education
system follows the principle of inclusion. All these issues have an economic
268 S. Andresen
basis; they are all relevant for educational processes, although causal statements on
the returns are not yet possible; all touch on education concepts and they all deliver
indicators on how to conceive CWB.
9.4.4 Education and Children’s Rights
Education, justice, and the economy are all closely related to basic principles in
legal theory. Historical education research demonstrates how the granting of rights
has been of enormous significance for education and child rearing. For example,
child labor laws have contributed to the formation of modern childhood, and
compulsory education has granted children the right to a fixed amount and a fixed
curriculum of school education while making parents and the state responsible for
ensuring its provision. How this responsibility for education is distributed between
more private and more public sectors decisively shapes national education systems,
and the distribution of these rights and duties has become one of the most contro-
versial challenges of the present day. Ralf Dahrendorf (1966) called for a basic
“citizen’s right to education” in his liberal education theory of the 1960s. He
viewed education as a social right of all citizens, and he understood compulsory
schooling as only just one first concrete form of this civil right that would still
need to be extended through further measures. Moreover, he also articulated the
demand for the need to achieve equal opportunity. A basic idea within such
a rights-based model of education is to educate the citizen to political empower-
ment. All must have the same right to, for example, freedom of expression, but all
must also be in the position to exercise this right competently.
Hence, rights provide a basis for reflections in education theory. “The rights-
based framework submits that every human being, including every child, is entitled
to decent education, even when one cannot be sure that this education will pay off in
human capital terms” (Robeyns 2006, Onlinepaper, p. 8). From the perspective of
legal theory, those bearing political responsibility are obliged to provide the
resources to educate each and every child and to supervise the quality of these
resources. However, rights also offer a basis for theoretical reflections on those
being educated, because they not only try to define the autonomy of the human
being but also focus on her/his dependence. This is a particularly tense dichotomy
with regard to children and youths, because the autonomy of the child has to
balance in relation to her/his specific dependence. Hence, there is also a need for
education theory to clarify how to recognize the child as a bearer of fundamental
rights, while simultaneously acknowledging and appropriately responding to the
need to promote and support the child’s education process as well as her/his need
for care and welfare.
The Universal Declaration of Human Rights already assigned priority to the
right to education – also as a right to vocational training – in 1948, because
disadvantage in this sector curtails other rights such as the right to health or
work. The rights of children laid down in the UN Convention on the Rights of the
Child are particularly significant for the relation to education. This convention
regards children as autonomous personalities with specific needs and rights. For
every child, these rights include the right to identity; freedom of expression;
freedom of thought, conscience, and religion; free assembly; but also the right to
education. In 2005, the United Nations Committee on the Rights of the Child
laid down that education begins at birth, thereby granting a fundamentally new
framework for early childhood education.
Following discussions over the UN Convention on the Rights of the Child, the
rights to be respected in the child were divided into protection, provision, and
participation. This also organizes the relation of the child to the family, society,
and the state. Education is embedded particularly in the rights of provision and
protection, and these require further differentiation. Basil Bernstein (2000), for
example, formulated three central pedagogic rights: the right to confidence, the
right to inclusion, and the right to participation. Throughout the world, not only
political actors but also professionals in the pedagogic work fields and science are
facing the challenge of putting these rights into practice and thereby contributing to
a paradigmatic shift from a paternalistic to a participatory relation between the
generations – and this also has to be related to education (Mason 1994).
Both Dahrendorf’s formulation of education as a citizen’s right within a specific
democratic tradition and the UN Convention on the Rights of the Child also reveal
clear approaches toward education as a dimension of CWB. One indicator would be
the opportunities for participation and codetermination or the right to freedom
of expression even as a child. Basil Bernstein’s differentiation into explicit
pedagogically based rights, even though still formulated in abstract terms, can
also form a basis for concrete indicators.
Finally, the discussion on legal theory needs to clarify whether its conceptual-
ization of CWB is more involved with protecting children, granting them rights
against this background, and providing them with education, or whether it favors
a liberal approach. The latter assumes that children must have the same rights as
adults. However, such an approach has major consequences for pedagogic and
thereby for the understanding of education. When it comes down to it, pedagogic is
based on an advocacy understanding of the need to protect, care for, rear, and
educate children.
This section has been an attempt to examine the accompanying approaches in
justice, the economy, and children’s rights in order to clarify what they mean for the
formulation of the core dimension defining CWB. Up to now, and no doubt also for
pragmatic reasons, the international discussion has frequently revealed a one-sided
definition of education as a single dimension and a differentiation into single
indicators based particularly on performance outcomes. In this section, I have
tracked this but used an education theory discussion to show how education as
a dimension of CWB can be further differentiated so that we can work with
powerful indicators based on educational science. The categorization of education
theory in terms of the concepts of justice, economy, and children’s rights also helps
to reorganize the concept of CWB. An appropriate task for research on CWB in
educational science would be to perform further systematic analyses of such
a dimension of education and test it empirically.
270 S. Andresen
9.5 Learning as a Dimension of CWB
9.5.1 Learning as a Key Concept in Educational Science
In this section, I shall discuss a further key concept in educational science as

a dimension of CWB: the concept of learning. Unlike education, learning can be
traditionally linked more strongly to empirical research, although we also find
complex theories here with roots in a variety of disciplines. Most research on
learning in educational science takes a national focus and is oriented toward sub-
disciplines such as research on teaching, didactics, adult education, or early child-
hood education. There is a strong tradition of empirical research on learning and
teaching. This also investigates learning outcomes of, for example, instruction.
Further research on learning in educational science relates to pedagogic institutions
such as kindergarten, school, or child and youth service facilities as well as work
on the impairment of learning through the abuse and neglect of children and
adolescents. In recent years, there has also been an increase in international
research on achievement and the measurement of achievement, and this approach
now dominates the field.
Hence, learning is one of the basic concepts in educational science, although – as
with education – it is also one of its fuzzy concepts. This is why the OECD 2002 and
2007 both called for the development of an interdisciplinary science of learning.
In particular, the OECD expertise “Understanding the Brain: The Birth of Learning
Science” (Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development 2007) called
for a greater integration of the cognitive neurosciences because educational learning
research is only “prescientific.” With their imaging methods, neuroscientists are able
to identify functional changes in the brain as a result of learning processes. Although
their highly experimental designs can show which learning processes are visible in
specific regions of the brain, up to now, they have been able to deliver only rather
general statements on learning and on the laws of learning. Nonetheless, research on
the neural correlates of learning disorders, that is, not on learning processes in the
“normal” case, promise to deliver important findings for children at risk. However, it
has yet to be seen whether this learning science called for by the OECD can prove to
be productive for research on CWB. Learning as a human ability that is trained and
not impeded, it is assumed, can probably make a major contribution to well-being.
Therefore, this also leads us to ask what approaches to this can be gained from
research in educational science. The resulting questions are: How can learning be
defined in relation to CWB? Which areas of science are involved? How can we study
and measure individual learning and its more far-reaching returns?
9.5.2 Learning as a Human Ability
Any discussion on learning as a key concept in educational science and on its

potential as a dimension of CWB has to start by considering assumptions
in evolutionary theory. This also links up with the nature–nurture controversy.
Understood in this way, assumptions in education theory and learning theory

complement each other, and it is necessary to test whether findings generated by,
for example, evolutionary research or attachment theory need to be integrated more
strongly than before into ideas on how to conceive CWB. This also provides
an opening for findings on the determinants of CWB from social anthropology.
Hence, the following will start by considering learning as a fundamental human
ability with which we are equipped as a species and which is central for our
individual histories.
One fundamental assumption in pedagogic is the human ability to be taught or to
learn. All our pedagogic efforts would be in vain without the assumption that a child
or youth will change, develop as far as possible, and acquire knowledge as a result
of pedagogic measures. Ever since the eighteenth century, scholars such as the
French encyclopedists have been addressing the idea of perfectibilité, the human
ability to attain perfection. This requires specific endowments; in other words,
an individual’s nature makes a major contribution to her/his ability to achieve
self-realization or, to put it better, her/his ability to develop and to learn. However,
nature does not achieve this alone, because the human being is fundamentally
dependent on other human beings. This brings us to the nature–nurture controversy:
As in other disciplines, modern educational science assumes a kind of “rule of
thumb” based on the assumption that nature and nurture are balanced and that
neither should be conceived as being strictly separate from the other. A child may
enter this world with the best possible abilities. However, if he/she does not gain the
opportunity to engage in what Margret Mahler called “a love affair with the world”
(Leuzinger-Bohleber 2009, p. 77, translated), she will never be able to fully develop
these abilities.
This section will discuss the work of the primatologist and developmental
psychologist Michael Tomasello, because it contains important information for
learning as a dimension of CWB. Tomasello (1999) discusses the nature–nurture
controversy and its significance for learning in great detail:
There is thus no question of opposing nature versus nurture; nurture is just one of the many
forms that nature may take. The question for developmentalists is therefore only how the
process takes place, how the different factors play their different roles at different points in
development. At birth human infants are poised to become fully functioning adult human
beings: they have the genes they need and they are living in a prestructured cultural world
ready to facilitate their development and actively teach them things as well. But they are not
at that point adults; there is still more work to be done. (p. 212)
Consequently, this is where we find the challenge facing us today of how to

conceive the development of precisely human learning, what happens when and how
in the child’s learning and education process against the background of human
evolution on the one side and completely different cultural backgrounds on the
other. Recent research on evolutionary theory rejects a static contrasting of what
are actually outdated categories such as nature versus nurture, congenital versus
learned. This is because, among others, the human world of culture is not independent
from the biological world, and culture is also a comparatively young product of
evolution. The child does not start at zero, because the human being possesses the
272 S. Andresen
ability to engage in “cultural learning” so that the child can enter the culture
surrounding her/him. What distinguishes human learning from that of other primates
is the ability to identify in far greater depth with other conspecifics and thereby to
comprehend the other’s intentions and feelings. Naturally, this human cognition is
a form of primate cognition, because primates also cultivate familial and hierarchic
relations, and they also develop strategies when confronted with problems in their
social or physical environment. However, as Tomasello (1999) notes:
In the current hypothesis human beings do indeed possess a species-unique cognitive
adaptation, and it is in many ways an especially powerful cognitive adaptation because it
changes in fundamental ways the process of cognitive evolution.
This adaptation arose at some particular point in human evolution, . . . (perhaps fairly
recently, presumably because of some genetic and natural selection events.). This adapta-
tion consists in the ability and tendency of individuals to identify with conspecifics in ways
that enable them to understand those conspecifics as intentional agents like the self,
possessing their own intentions and attention, and eventually to understand them as mental
agents like the self, possessing their own desires and beliefs. (pp. 201–202)
Phylogenetically, human primates therefore first had to develop their specific

understanding of other members of their species, whereupon, over the course of
historical development, forms of cultural inheritance developed through which
human beings accumulated increasingly more cognitive “goods” so that, finally,
every single child has to assimilate everything that her/his culture has to offer
(ontogenesis). Neonates already show a specific form of identification with
conspecifics through imitation and protoconversations. Protoconversations are
early dialogue-like interactions between an infant and her/his primary attachment
person. By imitating sounds, an infant enters into a dialogue with, for example, her
mother. After about 9 months, infants are capable of producing analogies between
self and others, and thereby recognizing intentions. This, in turn, enables them to
participate in activities with other persons when these are the focus of attention for
all participants. This is how children learn to imitate the actions of others, and they
thereby grasp a principle of learning. In language acquisition as well, they orient
themselves toward the structure of that which they hear. In this way, verbal symbols
have an intersubjective nature, because they are shared by many, and this is the way
in which children develop the ability to adopt different perspectives.
The idea behind this very brief summary of recent research is to illustrate
the fundamental insight that in order to develop and learn, children have to be
enabled to recognize the intentions of others and finally to enter into interactions.
The specifically human form of learning is the ability to already estimate what
the other might be thinking and how she might react. This is what distinguishes
human beings from other primates, but it is something that they could never
develop in isolation on a lonely desert island without any conspecifics.
As a dimension of CWB, the focus on the human ability to learn is
initially directed toward early childhood. It concerns the fundamental opportunities
for the infant to engage in interaction and to experience her/his as well as herself/
himself primary reference persons as responsive. Experiencing that the sounds
I make elicit certain reactions in my mother, father, or another person is
a learning process in the infant that enables her/him to also act and react in more
complex situations, that is, to learn. However, an infant will still learn even when
these opportunities are not given, and this is where this links ups with CWB.
Experiencing that there is no response to the infant’s behavior, to her/his facial
expressions, her/his cries, and therefore, her/his needs also creates learning. How-
ever, it can be assumed that this learning process will, with all probability, tend to
block a child’s development. Therefore, this phenomenon can be used as a basis for
naming CWB indicators. These may refer to the abilities of the reference persons,
biological parents, and/or nursing staff in hospitals, staff in children’s homes or
nurseries to pay attention to the infant’s signals and to respond to them appropri-
ately, but also to the ability to give impulses themselves. However, these indicators
also refer to the framing conditions in which early childhood is embedded, and, in
this context, the threats it is exposed to through violence, absence, and chronically
sick or depressive parents. At this point, this means that any conceptualization of
CWB coming from educational science has to clearly specify what needs to be
understood under ill-being – that is, in certain ways, the opposite of well-being. The
theory of learning as a fundamental human ability offers important links here that
need to be developed further through empirical research.
9.5.3 Forms of Learning
It is not enough to understand learning as a fundamental human ability and

thereby adopt an anthropological perspective. We still have to explain which
forms of learning can be distinguished in which ways. This is particularly important
when learning needs to be further operationalized as a dimension of CWB.
Recent research in evolutionary theory has distinguished three basic types of
human learning: imitation learning, learning through instruction, and learning
through cooperation (Tomasello 1999). All three forms also involve “demonstrat-
ing.” Surprisingly, this also reveals very interesting links with recent research
on artificial intelligence. For example, robots are now being programmed on
the basis of precise observations of behavior between mothers and fathers and
their infants.
The Genevan philosopher, Rousseau, also examined such basic forms of
learning in much detail in his educational novel Emile. For Rousseau, the three
“tutors” from whom the child learns are human beings, nature, and objects.
This provides an excellent illustration of the breadth of the discussion over the
basic concept of learning in educational science. One can distinguish rather
roughly between an empirically oriented research on teaching and learning that
has close ties to psychology and, in contrast, a philosophically based theory
of learning. If we want to link this to theoretical and empirical work on CWB,
it is necessary to examine both lines of research. One source of controversy has
to be mentioned here. Psychological research on teaching and learning understands
learning primarily from the perspective of the outcome: The learner changes her/his
behavior and acquires knowledge. In contrast, the dominant focus in philosophical,
274 S. Andresen
phenomenological research on learning is on the procedure of learning itself and

not on its outcome. This makes it necessary to ask which has closer ties to
a CWB that finally does not favor well-becoming, that is, the behaviors or stocks
of knowledge learned in the future, but focuses on the here and now of the child
and her/his well-being. It suggests that research on learning should focus on the
learning procedure itself and on the experiences that the learning child goes through
with herself/himself as learner.
This calls for the following systematic differentiation: first, between the
implicit teaching and learning that can occur anywhere, and which is the particular
responsibility of the family in childhood, and the explicit learning that is based on an
intentional teaching. This particularly means school teaching that is naturally directed
toward outcomes. It is above all here that it is necessary to ask not only about the how
of learning but also decisively about the what (Becker 2009). Hence, scientific
approaches can be distinguished that focus on a learning and teaching directed either
toward behavior or toward knowledge and the acquisition of knowledge. When it
comes down to it, learning theories generally aim to deliver statements on how
learning proceeds, what one can observe while it is proceeding, and what learning
is based on. However, theories of teaching aim to be able to state how learning should
be shaped by instruction.
Psychologically oriented research on teaching and learning is interested almost
exclusively in explicit learning and instruction. Two directions can be reconstructed
here: From the beginning of research until well into the twentieth century,
this field was dominated by behaviorist research. This is linked to names such
as Iwan Petrovich Pavlov, Edward Lee Thorndike, Burrhus Frederic Skinner,
and John B. Watson. Modern neurobiological research on learning with its
experimental designs – applied mostly to animals – is also behaviorally oriented,
and in educational practice, this orientation is enjoying a renaissance in,
for example, parent trainings. Starting in the 1950s, however, research started
to move in another direction, and the focus shifted toward, among others, the
information processing of the child while learning, thus drawing attention to
cognition. Since then, research on teaching and learning has been strongly
concerned with the knowledge dimension. Nonetheless, there is an increasing
awareness that the attainment of multiple learning goals requires a combination
of various teaching and learning models (Weinert 1996). For example, it has
been shown that more constructivistically designed learning environments that
emphasize the personal responsibility of the learner are more favorable
for strongly achieving children, whereas less strongly achieving children have
more need of an instructive and teaching-centered learning environment.
The philosophical approaches and, in particular, the schools of thought that draw
strongly on the experience concept such as pragmatism or phenomenology address
not only the explicit but also the implicit forms of learning and instruction.
The primary focus in a systematic examination of experience is on the process of
learning itself rather than on its outcome parameters. As a result, this does not
just consider the cognitive dimension of learning but strongly emphasizes
the bodily and sensory dimension as well. In this sense, philosophical approaches
are also concerned with knowledge, but beyond this, experience and awareness
through learning. A further aspect emerges here: Learning also takes place
within and through conflict situations, and these are always intersubjective in
nature. This also links it up with modern anthropology and Tomasello’s
cultural learning, in which it has been confirmed that human beings only learn
in interaction with others. Hence, others are always constitutively involved
in learning events.
These interdisciplinary lines of theoretical and empirical work on learning
indicate that learning as a dimension of CWB has to consider different forms of
learning. There is a major need for more research here. Learning as a dimension of
CWB has to be understood in relation to experience. Learning is experience.
It is dialogic, meaningful, and holistic – in other words, both cognition- and
body-related. On this basis, learning can be divided into four subdomains that can
be formulated as indicators for CWB: If one is asking about school curricula, this is
learning for knowledge. However, this alone does not suffice: Children
and youths have to be able to act and make decisions within personal contexts in
an increasingly more complex environment. They need to be enabled to do this,
and this concerns learning for abilities. If one is referring to, for example, the
family as a location of learning or the peer group, this often concerns questions of
living together, of shaping everyday life together, of the division of labor, but also
learning to care for others. This is called learning for life. And, finally, recent
research on teaching and learning is working on methods that enable children and
youths to further develop their human ability to learn, that is, learning how to learn
(G€ohlich and Zirfas 2007). These four forms, learning for knowledge, learning
for abilities, learning for life, and learning how to learn, offer systematic and
educationally relevant indicators for the CWB dimension of learning. One of the
challenges for the future will be to continue work on this.
9.6 Conclusion
What educational theory has to figure out now is the otherness of CWB in order to
generate further ideas on its foundation and conceptualization. From the perspective
of educational science, the question arises whether CWB is founded on a clear
concept of “ill-being” and whether there are any links to the educationally relevant
discourses on children at risk. These aspects are mostly discussed in relation to early
childhood. Early childhood and the conditions of growing up in a family and the
increasingly important institutions for children under the age of 3 years are also
major educationally relevant fields of action in CWB.
This leads us to ask how educational science can successfully focus on
the resources and potential of children and youths without losing sight of their
vulnerability. The international literature specifies the vulnerability of
children particularly in terms of income poverty, educational poverty, a migration
background, and the household context (single parent). The central issues from
276 S. Andresen
an educational science perspective are how children and youths experience

disadvantage, how they cope with it, and how this impairs their well-being
(Wolff and De-Shalit 2007).
Beyond this, the particular vulnerability of children is based on the following
phenomena: Alongside the child’s general physical inferiority and age-dependent
lack of knowledge, experience, and control, we find, first, that only soft norms
and sanctions when children become victims; second, that children are unable to
choose whom they live with and whom they meet; and, third, that there
continues to be a general lack of awareness of how vulnerable children actually
are (Finkelhor 2008).
Nick Axford (2008) has worked out five concepts that are relevant for CWB
and also asked how they can be related to each other systematically. Research
in educational science can also link up with this issue. Axford’s concepts focus
on resources and precarious living conditions. The concepts representing
primary resources are needs, rights, and quality of life; those representing deficits
are poverty and social exclusion.
If learning and education/child rearing are conceived in terms of needs,
they grant the young generation the ability to engage in positive activities, to
acquire the world, and to be self-determined. Rights, in contrast, describe the status
of an individual, and they are essential for an adequate understanding of
the pedagogic approach to children. Quality of life is directed toward the
subjective perspectives of children and youths – a perspective that has previously
not been adopted sufficiently in research within educational science.
The deficits that make children vulnerable, that is, the other side of well-being
with a strong relevance for educational science, are the causes and consequences of
poverty and the complex experiences of social exclusion. Both have particularly
disastrous consequences for the process of growing up – as a host of empirical
studies confirm. This all raises further questions on the relation between educational
science and the child-well-being movement, questions that educational science will
be obliged to tackle in the years to come.
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Geographies of Children’s Well-Being: in,
of, and for Place 10
John H. McKendrick
In this chapter, it is argued that children’s well-being is shaped by where they live.
It does not suggest that where they live determines their well-being; rather, it argues
that where children live is one of several factors that contribute to their well-being.
It does not even suggest that where they live is more or less important than
these other factors; for example, it is not the purpose of this chapter to suggest
that neighborhood is more or less important than family life in shaping children’s
well-being. Such an ambition may appear lowly to a social science welded
to binarisms (what matters most – structure or agency?) or reductionism (what
factor accounts for most of children’s well-being?), but these knowledge goals
are for others to pursue. The hiatus of this chapter is to propose a conceptual
framework that accounts for the way in which where children live interfaces with
other factors to shape children’s well-being. The journey toward this point will
necessitate an articulation of why geography matters in any appraisal of children’s
well-being.
In Localities: a holistic frame of reference for appraising social justice in
children’s lives (McKendrick 2009), I argued that where children live is an integral
and central part of the experience of childhood. This earlier paper focused on
neighborhoods, the dominant locality, and realm of everyday experience for chil-
dren. It contended that childhood studies must take place seriously if we are to
understand the totality of children’s lives. It drew a distinction between neighbor-
hood problems and problem neighborhoods and reflected on the significance of
“control and presence,” and “opportunity and constraint” in shaping children’s
neighborhood lives. This, together with a critical reflection on localities as
a political project in the shape of attempts to promote child-friendly neighborhoods,
inadvertently provided much relevant insight for understanding the geography of
children’s well-being.
J.H. McKendrick
School of Law and Social Sciences, Glasgow Caledonian University, Glasgow, UK

280 J.H. McKendrick
This chapter does not merely replicate the contentions made in Localities and
other papers that have sought to demonstrate the importance of place in children’s
lives (Burton 2011; Cunningham and Jones 1994; Gill 2008; Hart 1979; Hiscock
and Mitchell 2011; Moore 1986; and Ward 1978, 1990). Rather, it complements
this work by directly considering the ways in which neighborhood effects child
well-being and it provides tools to guide further work in this area. This is not to
suggest that geographical studies of children’s well-being are absent from the
literature. On the contrary, in recent years, several high profile studies have
sought to compare levels of child well-being across world regions, nations,
regions, and districts. The knowledge gained – and the knowledge that is
marginalized – by pursuing macro-geographies of child well-being is considered
early in this chapter. Following from this, the challenges that are involved in
measuring geographies of children’s well-being are considered. Having appraised
the findings of studies that purport to examine the geographies of children’s well-
being, and elucidated the methodological challenges that must be negotiated to
measure it, this chapter turns to summarize the broader knowledge base on what
constitutes a “good place” for children. This leads to the development of a range
of descriptive and conceptual tools to better understand the geography of child
well-being and, finally, the proposal of the argument that it is in everyone’s
interests to enhance children’s well-being in place. By way of introduction, this
chapter begins by drawing observation that, in recent years, there appears to have
been a spatial shift in civic society’s approach to promoting and supporting
child welfare.
10.1 Children’s Welfare: A Spatial Shift?
Academic disciplines are, quite rightly, very particular about their core concepts
and geographers are no exception to this rule. Here is not the place for a lesson in
the philosophy of geographical thought, but it is important to clarify that this
chapter contends that wider civic society has been increasingly concerned to
identify the spatial patterning of child welfare (a spatial shift), rather than being
concerned to elucidate the character of child welfare in particular localities
(a concern with place). As will be shown, this predilection for spatial patterning
has far-reaching implications for the understanding children’s well-being and the
efficacy of policy interventions which aim to enhance it.
The primary institution for supporting children’s welfare is the family, and in
particular, the immediate family unit of parent/s and siblings. This should not to be
denied or ignored by any attempt to elucidate geographies of welfare. Equally, it
would be a naı̈ve analysis or policy strategy that did not accord a complementary or
supplementary role to “environment” in shaping well-being.
There are several grounds for paying attention to the geographies of child well-
being. First and foremost, in our interdependent worlds, the sensibility of drawing
10 Geographies of Children’s Well-Being: in, of, and for Place 281
on professional expertise is widely accepted (neighborhood as resource). Child

welfare is promoted by the ready access to schools, health, and social services and
those professionals and volunteers with an aptitude to enable children to enjoy,
experience, and/or realize their potential in an array of sporting and leisure-time
pursuits. Second, the role of neighborhood support in enhancing child well-being
also pertains to the potential of the neighborhood environment to facilitate leisure
and child development (neighborhood opportunities). For example, the ready
availability of age-appropriate places to take children may assist estranged parents
in making the most of what limited time they have available with their children who
do not live with them. Neighborhood opportunities are often understood in terms of
dedicated playspace and, to a lesser extent, the way in which the environment
facilitates children’s independent mobility. However, a wider array of opportunities
should be expected from neighborhoods, for example, adaptability of the built
environment, places to facilitate sedentary leisure and reflection, access to friends,
a manipulable natural environment, etc. Third, independent family units often must
draw upon the support of a wider network of friends or extended family. Once
again, well-functioning neighborhoods can facilitate this. Grandparents, for exam-
ple, often fulfill an important role in caring for their grandchildren, enabling parents
to participate more fully in the labor market. A well-designed neighborhood that
facilitates children’s independent mobility could both lessen one of the pressures
that shared care places on family life (transporting children), and promote health-
enhancing behavior among children. Where the housing system does not facilitate
living near to family (or friends), then a child-friendly transport system would be
even more of a key ingredient of a well-making environment for children and their
families. Fourth, more intensive and direct support is often required where the
family unit, for whatever reason, is unable to ensure children’s welfare. For
example, the often chaotic lives of drug-abusing parents necessitate the interven-
tions of social services to support both the child and the wider family of which they
are part. The “hidden hand” of support services is an integral part of the geographies
of well-being, which must be as concerned with what people do, as with what the
built and natural environment offer. Finally, it must also be acknowledged that, at
any one time, many children are “looked after” or are in “alternative care.”
Eurochild (2010) has estimated that as many as one million children in the
European Union are currently living in institutional settings. Although a minority
group, it would be unacceptable to reduce the quest to improve children’s
well-being to those living only in private households. The quality and availability
of institutional settings should be considered in any comprehensive account of
children’s well-being across space.
These observations suggest that the world beyond the family makes many
contributions to support and enhance children’s welfare. Furthermore, a number
of loosely related contemporary trends have coalesced to heighten the specific
importance of geographies of well-being. These refer not to the geography of the
underlying forces that shape well-being; rather, these refer to the heightened
visibility of the outcome of these forces in the form of standardized comparison
282 J.H. McKendrick
of outcomes across administrative entities. In short, the geographical indicator has

risen to prominence in recent years. Although the genesis of this trend lies beyond
children’s welfare, in this, it has found fertile ground. First, the emergence of
evidence-based, or evidence-informed, policy has added weight to the value of
pre- and post-intervention data. Evidencing impact is now an integral part of the
policy process. Second, a related point is a wider concern for public accountability.
For example, stakeholders – local and sector-specific interest groups – seek invest-
ment that furthers their interests and those dispensing public (and private) funds are
often tasked with accounting for decisions to fund X instead of Y, and to demon-
strate the impact of the funds they dispense. The need for such accountability is
heightened when, as is often the case, funds available are insufficient to meet
demand. Here, the challenge for both public and private bodies is to dispense
funds to the most deserving of all of the deserving cases that seek them. Using
data to demonstrate need – for example, highlighting areas with the highest level of
deprivation, or identifying populations with the highest incidence of poor health – is
commonplace. Third, there is a wider culture of evidence-led debate that extends
beyond the narrow objective of securing project funding or justifying departmental
spending. This is perhaps most strongly evident in the European Union with the
Social Open Method of Coordination which does not set targets, but tasks member
states to report performance and shares this “openly” among member states (Fraser
and Marlier 2012). The desire not to be the poorest performer among peers is
thought to be as effective a driver for improving standards as any obligation. It is
also very much part of the core work of a wide range of interest groups, evidenced
in their production of briefing papers and information sheets (e.g., Eurochild 2012).
Finally, all of this is made possible by, and is a further catalyst for further
production of, the growing availability of timely, geo-coded data.
One further contextual trend should be noted. In the broad field of children’s
welfare, much effort has been invested in measuring child poverty. For example, in
the European Union, this led to the development of the Laeken suite of indicators to
provide a comprehensive measurement of poverty (European Union 2009). Within
nation states, there have also been moves to develop standard poverty indicators
(e.g., Department of Work and Pensions 2003; UK Parliament 2012). Although
these have the potential to conceive of poverty beyond material well-being, there
has tended to be a greater focus on the single indicator of whether children live in
a household that has less than 60 % of median household income (equivalized for
household composition). This has been a comfortable indicator for those govern-
ments that have championed a work-first approach to tackling child poverty, that is,
where the main anti-child poverty strategy is to increase parental employment.
However, this reductionism in poverty measurement (and strategy) has increasingly
concerned those responsible for promoting children’s welfare in the round (Sinclair
and McKendrick 2009).
Against the overly narrow focus on household income in studies of child
poverty – and in the context of a growing concern with the spatial patterning of
children’s welfare outcomes – there has emerged an alternative approach as many
now seek to chart the macro-geographies of children’s well-being.
10.2 Macro-geographies of Child Well-Being
Comparative indices of child well-being are seductive knowledge. Readers are

inevitably drawn to the top end and the bottom end of a league table. Favorable
results are warmly received and evidenced to validate work programs and policy
strategies. Adverse results occasionally lead to the methodology being questioned,
but almost always lead to searching questions being asked to account for what
appears to be “poor performance.”
There is no shortage of macro-scale comparative studies of children’s welfare.
Although largely eschewing the league table format and fronting its reports with
descriptive and analytical commentary on particular themes, UNICEF (2012)
publishes The State of the World’s Children every year. The report ends with
a compendium of key statistics on different aspects of child welfare, the range of
which has increased through time, continuing to increase in recent years with the
addition of statistical tables on “adolescence” and “disparities among richest and
poorest households” in 2011, and “disparities across urban and rural areas” in 2012.
Where available, statistics are presented for nation states and summary statistics are
generated for world regions. A broad range of statistics are presented, some tightly
focused on children (e.g., participation in secondary, primary, and preprimary
schools), others describing conditions that impact both on children’s well-being
and that of other groups (e.g., a range of indicators on women’s health). These
statistical tables are introduced as “Economic and social statistics on the countries
and territories of the world, with particular reference to children’s well-being”
(UNICEF 2012, p. 81, emphasis added). The only indicator that is presented in
league table format for nation states is the Under 5 Mortality Rate (U5MR), which
is described as a “critical indicator of child well-being” (UNICEF 2012, p. 87)
(For information, Somalia achieved the ignominy of rank 1 with a U5MR of 180 (per
1,000 children). Iceland, Lichenstein and San Marino shared rank 193 with a U5MR
of 2 (per 1,000 children).), on the grounds that it measures the end result of the
development process, it is the result of a wide variety of inputs, and its measurement
qualities mean that results are representative of the nation as a whole (it is described
as improbable that the U5MR of a wealthy minority will skew the nation’s result and
disguise the wider reality of the majority). Indeed, UNICEF presents this as
a “principal indicator” of child well-being which it uses as an “agreed method of
measuring the level of child well-being and its rate of change” (UNICEF 2012,
p. 125). Although The State of the World’s Children is primarily discursive and
analytical, the allure of ranking places by well-being is too hard to resist.
In a similar vein, the OECD (2009) falls short in its attempt to avoid the
distraction of a league table format. In Doing Better for Children, their analysis of
comparative child well-being across 30 OECD countries, there is a conscious
attempt to avoid an overarching index (a summary league table ranking) on the
grounds that it would “distract the focus toward discussion of the aggregation
method, and away from more important practical issues of improving child well-
being” (OECD 2009, p. 22). In avoiding a single summary ranking, the OECD opted
to classify countries according to whether, relative to the OECD average, they
284 J.H. McKendrick
performed significantly better, significantly worse, or about the average for each of
six domains of child well-being (material well-being, health and safety, educational
well-being, risk behaviors, housing and environment, and quality of school life).
However, the analysis also ranks each nation from best performing (rank 1) to worst
performing (rank 30) for each domain. Readers’ attention is as much drawn to the
big numbers (relative positioning) in the summary table as the coloring (classifica-
tion of performance, relative to average). For example, the reader is naturally
inclined to castigate the United States for a ranking of 23 for material well-being
and 25 for educational well-being; but this should be tempered by the additional
knowledge that is provided that the US performance is in the “about the average”
band on both domains. The OECD should be praised for providing a classification to
temper the focus on rankings, but the inherent danger of these rankings is all too
apparent.
In contrast, UNICEF/Innocenti (2007) and the UK Government (Bradshaw et al.
2009 for England) are among those who have embraced the league table approach,
manipulating multidimensional indicator sets to generate league tables of child
well-being. Many others have been generated in recent years (e.g., Michaelson et al.
2009; UNICEF 2010) and others are pending (TARKI Social Research Institute
2010 for the European Union).
Table 10.1 summarizes the comparative macro-geographies of child well-
being in “rich” countries that was produced by the Innocenti Research Centre in
2007 (UNICEF 2007). Although inevitably drawn to the extremities of the
overview table (the top and bottom end of the table of countries, ordered by
average ranking), the wealth of domain data offers a degree of depth to the
analysis. For example, although child well-being in the UK is consistently
worse than that in comparable nations, it should be noted that its performance
on “health and safety” is less poor. Similarly, although reporting generally high
levels of child well-being, it is striking that children in Sweden rank less favorably
in terms of “family and peer relationships.” Indeed, the quality of “family and
peer relationships” seems to be an issue that should be of wider concern across
Scandinavia. The value of not reducing well-being to a single summary measure
is readily apparent (Fig. 10.1).
Bradshaw et al.’s (2009) work in England offers a cautionary note against
a different type of overgeneralization. Although macro-geographical patterns in
child well-being can be discerned from their analysis – there are more local areas
with low child well-being in London and more areas with high child well-being in
the wider South East of England – there are complexities that must also be
acknowledged. In every region, there is a mix of local areas with the lowest
and highest levels of child well-being (although the mix is different in each
region). Similarly, although there is a hint of a national “regional geography”
of child well-being (with the likelihood of identifying areas with low child
well-being falling from north to south), London is an outlier that ruptures the neat
pattern.
Clearly, in addition to providing seductive knowledge, these macro-geographies
of child well-being have the potential to provide useful knowledge.
10
Table 10.1 Child well-being in 21 “rich” countries, 2007

Average Material well- Health and Educational well- Family and peer Behaviors and Subjective well-
ranking being safety being relationships risks being
Netherlands 4.2 10 2 6 3 3 1
Sweden 5.0 1 1 5 15 1 7
Denmark 7.2 4 4 8 9 6 12
Finland 7.5 3 3 4 17 7 11
Spain 8.0 12 6 15 8 5 2
Switzerland 8.3 5 9 14 4 12 6
Norway 8.7 2 8 11 10 13 8
Italy 10.0 14 5 20 1 10 10
Ireland 10.2 19 19 7 7 4 5
Belgium 10.7 7 16 1 5 19 16
Germany 11.2 13 11 10 13 11 9
Canada 11.8 6 13 2 18 17 15
Greece 11.8 15 18 16 11 8 3
Poland 12.3 21 15 3 14 2 19
Czech 12.5 11 10 9 19 9 17
Geographies of Children’s Well-Being: in, of, and for Place
Republic
France 13.0 9 7 18 12 14 18
Portugal 13.7 16 14 21 2 15 14
Austria 13.8 8 20 19 16 16 4
Hungary 14.5 20 17 13 6 18 13
United States 18.0 17 21 12 20 20 -
United 18.2 18 12 17 21 21 20
Kingdom
Source: UNICEF (2007)
285
286 J.H. McKendrick
Fig. 10.1 Comparative child well-being in English regions, 2009 (Source: Bradshaw et al.
(2009). Note: These data are regional counts of the number of local areas (Local Super Output
Areas) within that region that are among the best 20 % in England (blue bar) and the worst 20 % in
England (red bar) in the Local Index of Child Well-Being. There are 32,482 LSOAs in England,
with an average of 1,500 residents in each)
Although it would be an error to equate useful with utilitarian knowledge, one of

the common features of these contemporary macro-geographies of child well-being
is that they are oriented toward policy. Indeed, the policy orientation of these
indices is much heralded. One of the reasons underlying the selection of each
indicator for the OECD is that they were “relatively amenable to policy choices”
(2009, p. 21). Similarly, in reviewing the development of indicators to measure
child well-being in the EU, Eurochild (2009, p. 5, emphasis added) contends that,
“. . . indicators should also be employed to help shape policies and services which
require that they are devised and used in ways that would extend their impact
beyond simply building knowledge. Indicators of child well-being should be used in
a way that contributes to improving the lives of children throughout the EU.”
Understanding child well-being is not a primary knowledge goal; it is implicit,
inadvertent, or assumed that child well-being will be better understood through
charting the policy-oriented macro-geographies of child well-being. The primary
objective is to identify good and bad outcomes for children (both in aggregate, and
by domain), in order to encourage poorly performing administrations to enact
improvement.
This is not to suggest that these multidimensional indices are groundless or do not
focus on matters which contribute to children’s well-being. On the contrary, the
UN Convention on the Rights of the Child (1989) provides the foundation for much of
this work. Stated bluntly by Bradshaw et al. (2007, p. 134), “The UN Convention on
the Rights of the Child offers a normative framework for the understanding of
children’s well-being,” going on to explain how its four general principles provide
a framework for the articulation of an analysis that is concerned with both well-being
and well-becoming, that is, nondiscriminatory, in the best interests of the child,
concern with survival and development, and respect for the views of the child.
Even where the impact of the UNCRC is not articulated as precisely, there is often
acknowledgement that it offers loose guidance. As the Innocenti work (2007, p. 3),
observes, “Although heavily dependent on the available data, this assessment is also
guided by a concept of child well-being that is in turn guided by the United Nations
Convention on the Rights of the Child.”
With a preference for policy-oriented indicators, a common grounding in the
UNCRC and the consensus-building orientation of an international research com-
munity (Ben-Arieh and Frones 2007), it should come as no surprise that there is
much commonality in both the individual indicators and the overarching domains
that comprise the multidimensional measures of children’s well-being in place.
Table 10.2 summarizes the domains that are used in four measures of child well-
being (columns) and the types of indicators that are used to measure performance
across these domains (rows). It is immediately apparent that there is much common
thinking; material well-being, health, education, and risk feature in all indices, and
“housing and environment” features in all but one. Furthermore, most of the
indicators use data on children’s experiences to evidence well-being (e.g., average
literacy achievement of 15-year-olds is used as one of the indicators for educational
well-being in the OECD index). Estimates of children’s material well-being tend to
be based on indicators at the level of the household with children (e.g., the
proportion of children aged 0–15 in households claiming a range of welfare benefits
is used in Bradshaw et al.’s index for local areas in the UK). Other types of indicator
feature less often in these indices, which have been designed to capture the macro-
geography of children’s well-being. For example, there are few cases of indicators
that speak of the resources and opportunities that are available to children in the
locality.
10.3 Capturing All of the Geographies of Child Well-Being?
10.3.1 Challenge of Measurement
Setting aside, for now, more fundamental objections, the first challenge in capturing
macro-geographies of well-being through multidimensional indicator sets is to
devise robust methods. The full weight of the international research community
has addressed the task of optimizing measurement. The general demands of utiliz-
ing effective indicators (those that are available, comparable, and timely) and
appropriate data aggregation methods have been met. This is not to suggest that
consensus has been achieved. Table 10.2 has already demonstrated subtle differ-
ences across projects. The publication of two papers, each of which utilized
Table 10.2 Domains, types and number of indicators used in four multidimensional indices of child well-being
288
LOCAL INDEX OF CHILD WELL Quality of Family & Peer Subjective

BEING (UK) Material well being Health Education At risk Housing Environment Crime School Life relationships well being
Resources for children 2 1
Resources for households with children 5 1 * 1
Resources for localities 1
Opportunities in localities 4
Child experiences 2 6 * 1
Neighbourhood experiences 4
COMPARATIVE CHILD WELL Health & Educational Risk Housing & Quality of Family & Peer Subjective
BEING IN OECD COUNTRIES Material well being Safety Well Being Behaviours Environment Crime School Life relationships well being
Resources for children 1
Resources for households with children 2 1
Resources for localities
Opportunities in localities 1
Child experiences 8 3 3 2
Neighbourhood experiences
Labour Social
Income Material market Exposure to participation &
CHILD POVERTY ANDCHILD WELL deprivation risk and risk Local Quality of Subjective
attachment family
BEING IN THE EU Health Education behaviour Housing Environment Crime School Life relationships well being
Resources for children *
Resources for households with children 4 * 2 2 1
Resources for localities 1
Opportunities in localities
Child experiences 12 4 4
Neighbourhood experiences 2
CHILD WELL BEING IN RICH
COUNTRIES (ECONOMICALLY
Health & Educational Behaviour Quality of Family & Peer Subjective
ADVANCED NATIONS)
Material well being Safety Well Being & Risks Housing Environment Crime School Life relationships well being
Resources for children 2
Resources for households with children 2 2
Resources for localities
Opportunities in localities
Child experiences 3 3 4 12 3 4
Neighbourhood experiences
J.H. McKendrick
alternative algorithms to rework the UNICEF Innocenti data on child well-being in

“rich nations” (UNICEF 2007), also evidences that differences of opinion persist
(Dijkstra 2009; Heshmati et al. 2007). Differences of emphasis aside, the research
community has risen to the general challenges of measurement.
Similarly, child-specific measurement challenges have also been faced.
Although weaknesses are acknowledged – data are not equally available for all
groups of children, for example, less data are available for younger children
(particularly data on educational outcomes); data are not often disaggregated by
migrant and dis/ability status; and well-being data are often not available for those
living in institutions – other issues have been addressed. There is a clear under-
standing of the importance of including data that addresses children’s lives as
lived (well-being) and the foundations that are lain in childhood for a positive
future (well becoming). More broadly speaking, this may be conceived as the
need to embrace both a developmental and a child rights’ perspective. Also, it
requires a focus on social ills, in addition to more positive qualities of children’s
lives. Some comparative work already incorporates children’s own perceptions of
their well-being (UNICEF 2007), while other studies have taken subjective
well-being as their primary focus (Bradshaw et al. 2011), although data are
more readily available on children’s outcomes and parental opinion/household
situation and these data tend to feature more prominently than children’s perspec-
tives at the current time.
What tends to be accepted as a given is the underlying geography. The method-
ological concerns that might tax the geographer tend to be explicitly considered to
a lesser degree by those responsible for producing multidimensional indicator sets
for child well-being. The dangers of ecological fallacy (the attribution to individ-
uals of behaviors and experiences based on where they live – Robinson 1950) and
the modifiable area unit problem (the arbitrary specification of geographical units
for data reporting which may obfuscate, rather than illuminate – Openshaw 1984)
are not primary methodological concerns. In part, this is understandable, given that
this work tends to have a policy or advocacy orientation and there is a necessity to
work with, rather than question, the administrative units to which data refer.
However, they remain challenges for interpretation, if not weaknesses in
calculation.
10.3.2 Questioning Purpose
As previously stated, the indices are framed as part of the policy process. The
desirability of this is clear. However, the way in which this is pursued is not without
problems. Stating a preference to include domains that are amendable to policy
choices (and that each indicator enables performance to be assessed for these
domains) inadvertently suggests that other aspects of well-being (those that are
less amenable to policy choices) have been excluded. Independently of this, the
indices express a preference for outcome measures (impact on children), as opposed
to inputs (policy work that aims to improve outcomes). This has been achieved, as
290 J.H. McKendrick
the preponderance of outcome indicators in indices of child well-being evidences

(Table 10.2). These measurement preferences – for policy-relevant and outcome-
based indicators – are understandable and consistent with the desire to use this
knowledge to effect improvements in children’s well-being. However, there is an
inherent inconsistency in this approach as a means to improve children’s overall
(global) well-being.
The tacit acknowledgement that the multidimensional indicator sets that are
focused on outcomes and oriented toward policy are unable or unwilling to consider
all of those factors that contribute to children’s well-being implies that their
summary measure being should not be considered as an overall measure of child
well-being. Rather, it would be more accurate to describe it as an overall measure of
policy-focused child well-being. This would not necessarily undermine the inherent
value of the aggregation.
However, the complexity of the social world is such that it is difficult to attribute
outcomes to a single cause. Expressed differently, and for example, the policy
interventions that seek to reduce the number of children living in households with
an income level well below the median are not the only factors that contribute to
this goal being realized. Indeed, it is theoretically possible for an effective policy
intervention to do no more the shore up and compensate for wider pressures that
work against this goal being achieved. One concrete example would be the effec-
tiveness of anti-child poverty strategies in tempering the increasing levels of child
poverty in an economic downturn. Describing as “failure” any outcome that does
not lead to improved performance may not only be misleading; it may be counter-
productive, leading to the rejection of effective policy. The efficacy of a policy
cannot be determined with reference only to crude data on outcomes.
These observations are not made to support an argument in favor of moving
away from either an outcomes focus, or a policy orientation, in the macro-
geographies of child well-being. Rather, they are drawn in order that we are more
modest in our knowledge claims, more proportionate in our assessment of the
extent to which children’s well-being can be improved through policy, and open
to possibilities for exploring other ways of understanding children’s well-being and
its geographies.
10.3.3 Beyond Geography as Spatial Patterning
The problems associated with developing the macro-geography of children’s well-

being are not inconsiderable, but are surmountable. Much research endeavor is
already being invested in methodological design and improvement. However, it
should also be acknowledged that spatial patterning is not the only contribution that
geography can make toward understanding children’s well-being. Geographers are
not only concerned to document and map variations across space.
Another useful geography of children’s well-being is to appraise places as
landscapes and to “read” those landscapes in terms of the subconscious way in
which they enhance or constrain well-being. Here, the focus may be as much on the
representation of a place as a child-friendly environment, as on the actuality of

whether that place enhances the quality of children’s lives. The extent to which
there is an absence of signs forbidding ball games in spaces that might otherwise
facilitate play, considering the quantity and quality of playgrounds when they are
interpreted as symbols of children’s right to play and right to use of the neighbor-
hood; the extent to which child-centered modes of transport, such as walking,
cycling, or skateboarding, are marginalized or prioritized in transport design; the
extent to which the built environment is designed in a way that facilitates all
children’s active participation (e.g., sensitivity to the capacities of small children);
the way in which children’s perspectives are routinely sought in neighborhood
decision making – each of these is more than a practical example of how neighbor-
hoods can be made more amenable to children. They are also indicative of
children’s neighborhood status (the collective desire to promote child well-being)
and can be “read” as such as a socio-spatial landscape.
Other geographies might be less concerned with form or outcomes, and may be
more concerned with the underlying socio-spatial processes that constitute and
reconstitute place. Holloway and Valentine’s (2000) contention that place is
porous – in which contexts (institutions, neighborhoods, etc.) draw upon external
influences and blend them with existing local cultures to create new realities – is
one such acknowledgement that places are dynamic and are a blending of the
idiographic and the nomothetic. There is also a rich tradition of work that
seeks to describe what places should offer children (as a means to enhance their
well-being).
10.4 Qualities of a “Good Place” for Children
On one level, the macro-geography of children’s well-being defines a “good place”

for children. Good places are those in which children are not hampered by low
household income and poor housing; are ones in which they are able to achieve
positive outcomes in health and education; and are ones in which they can avert
risk, “negative” behaviors, and poor relationships. Given the outcomes focus and
policy orientation of this work, there is a tendency to define “good places” not
according to the public services (and household resources) that are available
(inputs), but rather in terms of those with more children achieving successful
outcomes. Our understanding of residential social geography (the ordering of
space by cultural orientation, life stage, and socioeconomic status, e.g., Knox and
Pinch 2009) leads us to question whether, so defined, “good places for children” are
merely aggregations of children with already positive outcomes or, more funda-
mentally, are places which are positively enriching children’s lives.
In contrast, there tends to be a focus on provision rather than outcome when “good
places” are described in terms of the opportunities that they should afford children.
This is not to suggest that children’s use of the neighborhood is overlooked
(e.g., Hillman et al.’s seminal work on children’s mobility, published in 1990), or
that knowledge of children’s use of the neighborhood is not used to inform provision
292 J.H. McKendrick
(e.g., Cunningham and Jones’ (1994) model of the child-friendly neighborhood

utilized evidence on the more limited home range of girls, compared to boys, to
reach a minimum recommendation of distances from home to playspace). However,
the primary focus of those concerned to describe neighborhood opportunities is what
is provided, rather than what use is made of these provisions. Whole area blueprints
and principles have been developed for child-friendly cities and neighborhoods
(Cunningham and Jones 1994; Elsinger 2012), while commentators and campaigning
organizations have developed thematic blueprints to specify minimum standards that
would be acceptable in terms of mobility corridors (Kytta, 2004), playspace (Play
Scotland 2012), and greenspace (Ironside Farrar 2005, Chap. 6).
For others, a “good place” should be defined less in terms of the resources that are
available to children, or the opportunities that are provided. Here, the main concern is
that these are places that facilitate children’s meaningful participation (Gill 2008;
Gleeson and Spike 2006; Hart 1997; Horelli 1998; Percy-Jones and Malone 2001).
Working from within a child rights perspective and grounded in the UNCRC,
primacy is given to children’s role in neighborhood life (UNICEF 1996); well-being
cannot be gained if children have no role in shaping their lives. This thinking also
underlies approaches to use subjective measures to measure children’s well-being in
place (e.g., Crivello et al. 2009), or indeed, in studies that invite children to articulate
what constitutes a child-friendly neighborhood (Nordstrom 2010).
Resources, opportunities, and participation are already acknowledged as key
ingredients of “good places” for children. Implicitly, there is an expectation that
these will be afforded to all children, that is, that “good places” are inclusive, with
appropriate offerings available regardless of age, gender, cultural background, dis/
ability, socioeconomic status, and the like.
10.5 Evaluating Places and Conceptualizing the Geography of

Child Well-Being
10.5.1 Impact of Places on Children’s Well-Being
This chapter opened with the contention that children’s well-being is shaped by
where they live. Even if children have largely withdrawn from public space – perhaps
in response to parental fears for their safety (Valentine and McKendrick 1997), or as
a result of their own preference to pursue home-based leisure (Tandon et al. 2012) –
the wider world impacts upon their quality of life, by virtue of not providing what it
should. There are limitations in the extent to which the impact of neighborhoods on
children can be generalized. It is entirely conceivable that while a place may enrich
the well-being of one sibling, it may impair that of another, for example, the provision
of a skate park to encourage children not to use the roads in a neighborhood with
heavy vehicular traffic flow, may enhance the well-being of a sibling who skates,
while doing nothing to address the problems faced by a sibling who cycles.
Whether the focus is on a specific child, or a generalization on the overall impact
of a place on a group of children (or all children), Fig. 10.2 offers a simple tool to
Transforming
Transforming. Provides a realm that is
transformative for the child, i.e. affording
them opportunities and providing them with
resources that are far beyond the reach of
Enriching their family unit / home life.
Enriching. Enhances child well-being, e.g.

well-designed, child friendly neighbourhoods
that encourage and support children to fully
capitalise on the resources that they bring
Reinforcing from the domestic realm
Reinforcing. Reflects the well-being that

the child experiences in the domestic realm,
i.e. provides access to a level of opportunity
and resource that is commensurate with that
Impairing experienced in the familial / home setting
Impairing. Adversely impacts on well-being,

e.g. poorly designed neighbourhood for
children that provides them with access to
less opportunities and fewer resources than
Damaging might typically be expected
Damaging. Neighbourhood has a severely

negative impact on the well-being of the
child, e.g. public realm in war torn situation.
Fig. 10.2 The impact of places on the well-being of children (Source ¼ author)
describe the impact of a place on children’s well-being. Akin to Hart’s (1997)

ladder of children’s participation, it acknowledges a spectrum of impact, in this
instance from damaging through to transforming. It should be emphasized that this
is a tool for describing the overall impact of places on children’s well-being
(and not a tool to describe overall levels of children’s well-being). The distinction
is important, as it focuses attention on what places can do (or actually do)
to enhance children’s well-being. Unlike the macro-geographies of children’s
well-being (which define “good places” as those in which children achieve good
outcomes), it forces direct evaluation of contribution of place. It is possible that
the contribution of places to children’s well-being in localities in which children
attain good outcomes may do no more than reinforce advantageous situations
that emanate from the home environment (rung 3), while other localities in which
children attain, relatively, less favorable outcomes are compensating for disadvan-
tageous home environments by enriching (rung 4) or transforming (rung 5)
children’s lives.
294 J.H. McKendrick
10.5.2 A Taxonomy of Neighborhood Quality and Child Well-Being
Figure 10.2 sought to clarify the nature of the impact of places on children’s
well-being: good (rungs 4 and 5), bad (rungs 1 and 2), or indifferent (rung 3).
A complementary approach to describing the geography of child well-being is to
describe places in terms of what they offer to children (Fig. 10.3). Although
applicable to different place-types (streets, cities, nations, etc.), it is most straight-
forward to appreciate at the scale of the neighborhood.
Earlier discussion of what places should offer children, based on the existing
literature, suggested that places should comprise four offerings to enhance
children’s well-being, that is, they should be (1) inclusive, presenting all children
with equivalent experiences; (2) participative, affording children an active role in
shaping their environment and choosing how that environment is utilized;
(3) environments of opportunity, providing children with the spaces and facilities
that enable them to enhance their well-being; and (4) be resourced with the key
services that are essential to support their quality of life as lived, and to lay the
foundations for well-becoming in the years ahead.
There are 16 possible combinations of the presence or absence of these
essential ingredients of a well-functioning place (Fig. 10.3), ranging from four-
star neighborhoods (possessing every quality) to no-star neighborhoods (lacking
in all qualities). The value of such an approach is that it does not accept strengths
in one area as compensating for weaknesses in another. It makes clear that
neighborhoods of child well-being are those that take all qualities into consider-
ation. The objectives of this chapter do not permit lengthy discussion of the
mechanisms through which a neighborhood could be considered to be inclusive,
or participative, etc., and clearly this is an issue that warrants more detailed
consideration. However, the taxonomy establishes a standard to which all neigh-
borhoods should strive.
10.5.3 Accounting for the Geography of Child Well-Being
Tools to more precisely describe the way in which, and extent to which, places can
effect child well-being force a more precise understanding of the issue. However,
there are inherent dangers in sharpening focus. While there is merit in specializa-
tion, there is a risk in elevating the importance of the matter at hand to a level that it
does not warrant. In the context of this chapter, accounting for neighborhood in
children’s well-being can only be achieved if cognizance is taken of the wider realm
of influence of which it is part.
Figure 10.4 situates the contribution of neighborhood to children’s well-
being. As asserted throughout this chapter, neighborhood is one of the key realms
that contributes to children’s well-being. The understanding, developed in this
chapter, of the neighborhood as an environment of opportunity and resource,
which should enable participation for all children, is clearly articulated in the
illustration.
10
Children have RESOURCES to

Four exploit the OPPORTUNITIES that
exist. The LICENCE to participate is
star open to all and it is INCLUSIVE in
∗∗∗∗ the sense that opportunities exist
for all children
Sufficient OPPORTUNITIES exist for Children have RESOURCES to

Children have RESOURCES to Children have RESOURCES to
all children and they are given the exploit what is available and are
exploit the OPPORTUNITIES that exploit the OPPORTUNITIES that
Three LICENCE to utilise them. It is given the LICENCE to do so. It is
exist and it is INCLUSIVE in the exist and the LICENCE to participate
INCLUSIVE in the sense that INCLUSIVE in the sense that
star sense that equivalent opportunities is open to all. However, it is not
equivalent opportunities exist for equivalent opportunities exist for
exist for all children. However, INCLUSIVE in the sense that
all children. However, children do all children. However, insufficient
∗∗∗ children are not given the LICENCE equivalent opportunities do not
not have the RESOURCES to fully OPPORTUNITIES are available for all
to fully participate exist for all children
capitalise on these opportunities children
Sufficient OPPORTUNITIES exist for Sufficient OPPORTUNITIES exist for Children have RESOURCES to
Sufficient OPPORTUNITIES exist for Children have RESOURCES to Children are given the LICENCE to
all children and they are given the all children and children have the exploit what is available and that
all children and it is INCLUSIVE in exploit what is available and are capitalise on what is available and
LICENCE to utilise them. However, it RESOURCES to capitalise on these. which is available is open to all
Two the sense that equivalent given the LICENCE to do so. that which is available is open to all
is not INCLUSIVE in the sense that However, it is not INCLUSIVE in the children (INCLUSIVE). However,
opportunities exist for all children. However, insufficient (INCLUSIVE). However, insufficient
star equivalent opportunities do not sense that equivalent opportunities there are, insufficient
However, Similarly, children are not OPPORTUNITIES are available for all OPPORTUNITIES are available and
exist for all children. Similarly, do not exist for all children. OPPORTUNITIES and children are
given the LICENCE and do not have children. Similarly, what is available children do not have the
∗∗ children do not have the Similarly, children are not given the not given the LICENCE to capitalise
the RESOURCES to capitalise on the is not equally open to all RESOURCES to capitalise on the
RESOURCES to fully capitalise on LICENCE to capitalise on the on the limited opportunities that
opportunities that exist. (INCLUSIVE). opportunities that exist.
these opportunities opportunities that exist. exist
Although children have adequate Although children are given the

RESOURCES, there is a lack of Although sufficient OPPORTUNITIES LICENCE to participate, insufficient Although INCLUSIVE in character,
OPPORTUNITIES and what is are available, those that are OPPORTUNITIES are available, and insufficient OPPORTUNITIES are
One available is not equally open to all
available is not equally open to all those that are available is not available. Furthermore, children are
Geographies of Children’s Well-Being: in, of, and for Place
star (INCLUSIVE). Furthermore, children (INCLUSIVE). Furthermore, children equally open to all (INCLUSIVE). not given the LICENCE or
are not given the LICENCE to are not given the LICENCE or Furthermore, children do not have RESOURCES to capitalise on the
∗ RESOURCES to capitalise on the
capitalise on the limited the RESOURCES to capitalise on the limited opportunities that exist
opportunities that exist opportunities that exist opportunities that exist
Insufficient OPPORTUNITIES are

available for all children and what is
No available is not equally open to all
(INCLUSIVE). Children do not have
star adequate RESOURCES and are not
given the LICENCE to participate
Fig. 10.3 Neighborhood quality and child well-being (Source ¼ author)

295
296 J.H. McKendrick
World region/global
Nation
Region
Environment of
opportunity
Local Resource
Socio-economic
Provision
situation
Participation
Dynamics of
Parenting
Family life Inclusive
Family
Neigbourhood
Child as active agent
Child
Well
Being
Fig. 10.4 Factors contributing to child well-being: a conceptual framework to situate place in
context (No notes / Source ¼ author)
However, acknowledging the importance of neighborhood should not be

overstated, or made at the expense of other factors. Family life (whether as
a provider of resources, as a meaningful interaction with significant adults, or as
a social entity of which the child is part) also has a key role to play in facilitating
well-being for children. Family is considered to have a direct influence on children’s
well-being (the orange diagonal line of influence that extends down to “child as active
agent”). It also mediates the way in which children are able to fully capitalize on what
the neighborhood has to offer (horizontal pink line of influence), for example, through
the extent to which, and ways in which, parents allow their children to access
neighborhood space.
Two other points should be noted. Beyond the neighborhood, forces of influence
at regional, national, and global (or world regional) scale bear down upon children’s
well-being. Akin to Bronfenbrenner (1973), these forces may seem distant to the
everyday realities of children’s lives, but they are pertinent to it nevertheless. These
forces are sometimes far from abstract for everyday realities, as can be shown
through the examples of the UNCRC in shaping how children are regarded by
professionals (global), local service implications that may follow from the devel-
opment of a well-being policy focus in Europe (world region), setting of national
targets which shape the everyday work of children in schools (nation), and deci-
sions on the allocation of municipal resources across local areas (region).
Finally, the schemata acknowledges that children have an active role in
shaping their own well-being. The realms of wider influence beyond the neigh-
borhood, the way in which the family provides the foundations of well-being and
the possibilities that are presented by the neighborhood are received and mediated
by children. Although this is not presented as a neo-liberal individualistic model
that attributes well-being to the individual (which tends to lead to a blaming of
those who fail to achieve), any progressive understanding of the geography of
children’s well-being must be open to possibility of children having an active
role in negotiating or rationalizing provisions in order to determine their own
well-being. On the other hand, evidence of some children achieving an adequate
well-being despite an under-resourced neighborhood or an unsupportive family
environment should not be used as an argument to dismiss the need to address
deficiencies in these realms.
10.6 Conclusion: Better for Children, Better for All
This chapter concludes by returning to the title which suggested that children’s
well-being might be understood to be in, of and for place. Macro-geographical
studies are accumulating a knowledge base of the spatial patterning of children’s
well-being. Here, the focus is on place as a receptor, an administrative convenience
for the collation of evidence – it is the geography of well-being in place. The
value of this knowledge is acknowledged, particularly as a means to appraise and
influence policy and as a means to operationalize the laudable principles of the
UNCRC. However, it is a limited geography of children’s well-being, which is
exposed to problems of ecological fallacy and the modifiable areal unit problem.
Geographers might be more motivated to develop a geography of children’s
well-being of place, that is, one that focuses on the ways and extent to which where
children live actively impairs or enhances their well-being. Macro-geographical
studies provide a useful steer, but the analysis requires a drilling down to under-
stand whether positive outcomes are the causal consequence of how neighborhoods
work. To achieve the goal, somewhat paradoxically, requires an appreciation of the
limits to which neighborhoods influence children’s well-being.
298 J.H. McKendrick
However, it is also contended that the project of improving children’s well-being

is to the collective benefit of the neighborhood and its users. Some may be
uncomfortable with using children to achieve broader goals – such as the utilization
of powerful images of starving children in order to elicit charitable donations to
tackle impoverishment in fragile environments. It would also be an overstatement
to suggest that everyone benefits from improving the way in which places enhance
children’s well-being. However, there can be no doubt that reshaping our neighbor-
hoods to better serve the interests of children would inadvertently address many of
the neighborhood problems perceived and experienced by the wider populous, for
example, de-motivation to use public space, the adverse health consequences of
a sedentary lifestyle, the incivilities that arise from antisocial users and uses
dominating public space, and the like are all challenged by a child-friendly neigh-
borhood. In the final analysis, the geography of children’s well-being is much more
than that – it is a project for place.
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Child Healthcare and Child Well-Being:
From the Past to the Future 11
Christopher Greeley and Howard Dubowitz
Pediatry is the science of the young. The young are the future
makers and owners of the world. The physical, intellectual,
and moral conditions will decide whether the glove will
become more Cossack or more Republican, more criminal or
more righteous. For their education and training and
capabilities, the. . . [pediatrician] as the representative of
medical science and art should become responsible.
Medicine is concerned with the new individual before he is
born, while he is being born, and after. . .It is not enough,
however, to work at the individual bedside and in the
hospital. In the near or dim future, the pediatrician is to sit in
and control school boards, health departments, and
legislatures. He is the legitimate advisor to the judge and the
jury, and a seat for the physician in the councils of the
republic is what the people have a right to demand.
Abraham Jacobi (1904)
11.1 The Emergence of Pediatrics
The societal state of the child has had a checkered but slowly positive path. Infants
2000 years ago could be abandoned (“exposed”) at birth, solely at the father’s
discretion. Reasons for abandonment ranged from poverty to malformation. Infants
were often sacrificed to appease vengeful gods. In 315 CE Constantine I was the
first to forbid exposure of infants and in turn outlined in his Codex Theodosianus
how, if a father could not care for his infant, the community was obligated to care
C. Greeley (*)
Department of Pediatrics, Center for Clinical Research and Evidence-Based Medicine, University
of Texas Health Sciences Center at Houston, Houston, TX, USA
H. Dubowitz
Division of Child Protection & Center for Families, University of Maryland School of Medicine,
Baltimore, MD, USA

302 C. Greeley and H. Dubowitz
and provide for that child. The Middle Ages saw the rise of oblation (the permanent
“donation” of a child to the church) and indentures (the legal contract with a guild
to, for a fee, take in children and raise them as apprentices). In the thirteenth and
fourteenth centuries, Europe saw the rise of foundling homes, the precursors of the
modern day children’s hospital. Foundling homes were designed as institutions
where poor and marginalized families could “deposit” their infants and children
(often through a lazy Susan-type doorway) if unable to care for them. With the
advent of community structures to care for infants and children, there was a need for
a professional class to attend to these children, and this task fell to physicians. In the
eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, there was an awakening among physicians that
infants and children had particular needs, both medical and nonmedical, that
required a specific, dedicated cadre of people. In 1769, a Scottish doctor, George
Armstrong, established the first “dispensary for the infant poor” in London’s Red
Lion Square. This is recognized as the first medical service solely directed towards
the care of children. In 1852, the Great Ormond Street Hospital for Children was
founded in London as the hospital for sick children – the first hospital in the
English-speaking world dedicated to the medical care of children. At this time in
New York City, USA, there were similar advances.
In 1853 a German physician, Dr. Abraham Jacobi, arrived in New York, fleeing
political turmoil in his country. Dr. Jacobi introduced “pediatry,” the study of
children to his new country. Up until then the medical care of children was taught
by obstetricians. New York City’s Nursery and Child’s Hospital (1854) and the
Boston Children’s Hospital (1869) were the first medical institutions in the USA
solely for children (Stern and Markel 2007a). By 1860, Dr. Jacobi established the
first children’s clinic and was given the title of “professor of infantile pathology and
therapeutics.” Signaling the birth of pediatrics as a medical profession, in 1880 the
American Medical Association Section on the Diseases of Children separated from
the Section on the Diseases of Women and Children. The section began publishing
the Archives of Pediatrics, the first US medical journal dedicated to children
in 1884. The American Pediatric Society (APS) was formed in 1888 by specialists
from the growing number of children’s hospitals. Dr. Jacobi was one of the
founding members of the APS and its first president. In his inaugural address,
Dr. Jacobi expressed a sentiment that is still believed by pediatricians today:
“Pediatrics does not deal with miniature men and women, with reduced doses and
the same classes of diseases in smaller bodies. . .” (Stern and Markel 2007b).
Dr. Jacobi is held as the father of American pediatrics. The quotation introducing
this chapter is from his 1904 history of pediatrics, “The History of Pediatrics and Its
Relation to the Other Sciences” (Jacobi 1904). In this treatise Dr. Jacobi extols the
importance of the pediatrician being engaged in the community. He felt that
attending to the larger needs of the family, particularly the mother, is integral to
caring for children.
The foundations of caring for not only the child but the whole family
and becoming engaged and a participant in the community were at the root of the
pediatric profession. As the pediatrician’s role in the USA has evolved during
the twentieth century away from treating disease to a more preventative approach,
11 Child Healthcare and Child Well-Being: From the Past to the Future 303
new challenges have emerged. As child survival became less of a concern,

pediatricians were confronted with the “New Morbidity.”
11.2 The “New Morbidity”
Back in the 1800s, when pediatrics emerged as a medical specialty, the influence by
“family attitudes, environment and socioeconomic class” on children’s health was
well recognized (American Academy of Pediatrics Task Force 1991). Then, in the
twentieth century, advances in public health, immunizations, antibiotics, and
nutrition dramatically improved the health of many US children. This enabled
increased attention to the quality of life for children with chronic conditions,
including their psychosocial functioning. In addition, attention focused on “new”
problems for children, such as divorce, teenage pregnancy, child abuse, and atten-
tion deficit disorder, and they were labeled the “New Morbidity” (Haggerty et al.
1993). This area of concern has grown to include problems such as obesity, impact
on children by the media, school violence, firearms in the home, and drug and
alcohol abuse. This overall development is reflected, for example, by the mortality
of meningococcemia being replaced by that of teen suicide (American Academy of
Pediatrics, Committee on Psychosocial Aspects of Child and Family Health 2001).
Despite recognition of the New Morbidity, medical training has been slow to
adapt, and practice often does not adequately address these psychosocial problems.
An American Academy of Pediatrics policy statement recommended several steps,
including residency curricula on psychosocial problems, pediatricians working with
mental health professionals, and pediatricians advocating for children’s mental
healthcare needs (American Academy of Pediatrics, Committee on Psychosocial
Aspects of Child and Family Health 2001). Parents appear interested in help from
child healthcare professionals (Kahn et al. 1999) and pediatricians too express
interest in playing a greater role (Trowbridge et al. 2005). Another consideration
is that the increasing number of child healthcare professionals and competition may
well encourage pediatricians to become more engaged in addressing the New
Morbidity (Pawluch 1996).
11.3 Biopsychosocial Model
George Libman Engel (1913–1999) was a psychiatrist concerned with the

traditional narrow biomedical model of health and illness. Although the role of
psychological and environmental influences had been recognized by the ancient
Greeks, modern medicine appeared to him deliberately reductionist, increasingly
focused on the molecular level. In this context, his seminal 1977 paper in science on
a biopsychosocial model spawned great interest and many research endeavors
(Engel 1977). This model postulates that biological, psychological (including
thoughts, emotions, and behaviors), and social factors all significantly influence
human functioning, health, and illness. For example, a low-income family living in
substandard housing with mold and cockroaches may trigger asthma attacks in their
young child. In addition, the burdens of poverty may contribute to the mother’s
depression and alcohol abuse. In turn, she neglects to fill her child’s prescription,
aggravating the asthma.
While the frequent contribution of multiple and interacting influences on
health may be long known, and many physicians may quickly acknowledge this,
such thinking does not always translate to practice, research, and teaching. The old
mind-body dualism often still pervades current thinking, although there
has been progress with, for example, models of integrated primary care that include
psychologists, social workers, and others (Dubowitz et al. 2009). Indeed, it is
increasingly evident how closely intertwined these phenomena can be; one example
is the connection between mood and the immune system (Anisman and Merali
1999). Thus, the biopsychosocial approach makes clear that optimizing the health,
development, and safety of children requires truly collaborative, interdisciplinary
work.
11.4 Ecological Theory of Human Development
Urie Bronfenbrenner (1917–2005) defined an ecological framework for understand-

ing normal human development. In his seminal work, he defined the ecological
context of human development which “involves the scientific study of the progres-
sive, mutual accommodation between an active, growing human being and the
changing properties of the immediate settings in which the developing person lives,
as this process is affected by relations between these settings and by the larger
contexts in which the settings are embedded (p. 21)” (Bronfenbrenner 1979). In this
framework he emphasizes the importance of viewing the person not as a static
vessel but as an ever-changing entity responding to environmental and internal
cues. For Bronfenbrenner the external environment is made up of four nested
concentric systems in which a person grows. The microsystem is a “pattern of
activities, roles and interpersonal relations experienced by the developing person in
a given setting with particular physical and material characteristics (p. 22)”
(Bronfenbrenner 1979). The microsystem is the real-time, face-to-face activities
a person directly experiences. The mesosystem is the “interrelations among two
or more settings in which the developing person actively participates (such as,
for a child, the relations among home, school, and neighborhood peer group. . .)
(p. 25)” (Bronfenbrenner 1979). The mesosystem is the connected network of
microsystems. The exosystem is “one or more settings that do not involve the
developing persona as an active participant, but in which events occur that affect,
or even are affected by, what happens in the setting containing the developing
person (p. 25)” (Bronfenbrenner 1979). The exosystem is one step removed from
the individual. This would include a parent’s place of employment or a sibling’s
classroom. Lastly, the macrosystem is used to relate the cultural or societal forces
which permeate all the other spheres of influence. This could include cultural
norms, political policies, or economic forces.
As the child grows and gains new experiences, each of these systems may
change. A young infant is mostly dependent upon the direct care of its parents
(microsystem); the larger network of “peers” (mesosystem) is of less importance.
When that child attends school, the parents’ influence declines, relative to the
increasing influence by peers. Bronfenbrenner refers to this as ecological transition.
It is through a continuous series of ecological transitions that human development
occurs.
11.5 Ecobiodevelopmental Framework
The American Academy of Pediatrics (AAP) recently endorsed an ecobiodeve-

lopmental (EBD) (Shonkoff et al. 2012) framework to better understand how
childhood context and experiences have lifelong impact on children as they grow
and develop. The EBD framework emphasizes three main themes (Shonkoff et al.
2012; Committee on Psychosocial Aspects of Child and Family Health 2012).
First, early experiences with significant stress “can undermine the development
of those adaptive capacities and coping skills needed to deal with later challenges”
(Committee on Psychosocial Aspects of Child and Family Health 2012). Second,
the importance of unhealthy lifestyles, fragmented social networks, and unhealthy
coping behaviors are often present in conjunction with early childhood stress.
Lastly, there is the importance of protective factors (e.g., stable and safe relation-
ships) in mitigating the impact of “toxic stress” on the child. The EBD framework
(see Fig. 11.1) builds upon the ecological model and incorporates evidence gener-
ated through the 1990s and 2000s regarding Adverse Childhood Experiences
(ACEs). The Adverse Childhood Experiences study, (http://www.cdc.gov/ace/
index.htm, accessed January 2012) conducted between 1995 and 1997 with
17,000 members of a health plan in San Diego, being surveyed about their child-
hood experiences. These data were then linked to their health status decades later.
The results clearly demonstrated that more adverse childhood experiences were
associated with a greater risk of adult health problems such as suicide, smoking,
alcohol and drug use, obesity, heart attack, and stroke, as well as earlier death.
A proposed mechanism for how ACEs contribute to adult health outcomes is
through cortisol and the stress response (Committee on Psychosocial Aspects of
Child and Family Health 2012). There are three proposed stress responses a child
can have: positive, tolerable, and toxic stress responses. The positive stress
response is, in the face of moderate and tolerable stress, when a child copes with
the stress, perhaps supported by a caring adult. This positive stress serves as
a mechanism for learning and development. After dealing with the stressful event
in healthy and moderated ways, they return to a normal internal homeostasis.
A tolerable stress response occurs in the face of greater or more prolonged stress
(e.g., death of a family member, divorce). This results in more intense and
prolonged responses prior to returning to a baseline state. Again, parental support
can help moderate the tolerable stress response and facilitate a return to normalcy.
In a toxic stress response, the child is overwhelmed, often in the face of inadequate
306
An Ecobiodevelopmental Framework
for Early Childhood Policies and Programs
Policy and Program Caregiver and Foundations of Biology of Health Outcomes in

Levers for Innovation Community Capacities Healthy Development and Development Lifelong Well-Being
Cumulative
Primary Health Care Over Time Health-Related
Time and Commitment Stable, Responsive Behaviors
Public Health
Relationships
Child Care and Early Education Financial, Psychological, Gene- Physiological Educational
and Institutional Resources Safe,Supportive Environment Adaptations or Achievement
Child Welfare Interaction
Environments Disruptions and Economic
Early Intervention Skills and Knowledge Productivity
Family Economic Stability Appropriate
Nutrition Physical and
Community Development
Embedded During Mental Health
Private Sector Actions Sensitive Periods
Ecology Biology Health and

Development
Fig. 11.1 An ecobiodevelopmental (EBD) framework for early childhood policies and programs. (From Committee on Psychosocial Aspects of Child and
Family Health (2012))
C. Greeley and H. Dubowitz
parental support, resulting in a more pronounced and prolonged impact. This stress,
as manifest by hypothalamus-pituitary-adrenal (HPA) axis dysregulation and
increased cortisol secretion, can permanently alter children’s neuroarchitecture
(National Scientific Council on the Developing Child 2005).
11.6 Well Child Visits
According to the 2004 Institute of Medicine (a respected authority in the USA)

report, Children’s Health, the Nation’s Wealth, child health is defined as “the extent
to which individual children or groups of children are able to or enabled to
(a) develop and realize their potential, (b) satisfy their needs, and (c) develop the
capacities that allow them to interact successfully with their biological, physical
and social environments” (National Research Council and Institute of Medicine
2004). The USA has long had a system of pediatric primary care that aims to
achieve the above. This care is provided by pediatricians, as well as by family
medicine (or general) physicians, pediatric nurse practitioners (i.e., nurses with
advanced training), and physician assistants.
The Well Child Check (WCC) is the scheduled visit as part of a General
Health Maintenance framework outlined by the AAP in the Recommendations for
Preventative Health Care (American Academy of Pediatrics, Committee on
Practice and Ambulatory Medicine 2000). There are 11 WCC visits, with an
additional prenatal visit recommended, during the first 2 years of life. At each of
these visits, the complete medical history is reviewed and a comprehensive physical
examination of the child is performed. In addition, a variety of other topics are
probed, including the child’s diet and activities, development and school
performance, behavior and emotional and social functioning, as well as family
relationships and possible stressors (e.g., parental substance abuse, intimate partner,
or domestic violence). The schedule of the WCC has, since its inception, been
partly tied to the immunization schedule (Schor 2004). After the first 3 years
and until age 18, annual visits are recommended for routine health surveillance
and promotion (Bright Futures 2002). In 2011, two-thirds of uninsured US children
under 6 received all of their WCC, as compared to 90 % of those with medical
insurance (Child Trends 2012).
The AAP Guidelines for Health Supervision III (American Academy of Pediat-
rics 1997) and the Bright Futures Guidelines for Health Supervision of Infants,
Children, and Adolescents help shape what happens during these visits. These
materials are used by 74 % of pediatricians providing WCC (Periodic Survey
2003). In the USA, the vast majority of WCC visits are performed by physicians.
In certain settings, advanced degree nurses provide WCC, but these usually have
physician supervision in some manner. Pediatricians spend an average of 18.3 min
per WCC for a child under 3; 54 % report this as adequate time for developmental
assessments, but only 16 % feel they can appropriately address a family’s psycho-
social needs (American Academy of Pediatrics 2001). Overall, pediatricians spend
22 % of their time providing WCC. For infants, WCC account for 57 % of their
pediatric contact (Schor 2004). Given the many recommended components of

a WCC and professionals’ time constraints, while most parents view their pedia-
trician very favorably, it is not surprising that parents, usually of low income, often
feel dissatisfied with their care (Coker et al. 2009). The time constraints are likely
related to the relatively low reimbursement for WCC. Professionals are being asked
to provide more and more within the WCC, yet reimbursement remains limited.
The EBD framework has three main domains for the pediatric health profes-
sional (Committee on Psychosocial Aspects of Child and Family Health 2012).
First, the pediatrician should focus on healthy child development by promoting
(1) a stable environment and relationships, (2) safe environments, and (3) appropri-
ate nutrition. Stable relationships provide nurturing interactions with adults to
enhance learning and help “develop adaptive capacities that promote well-regulated
stress-response systems” (Committee on Psychosocial Aspects of Child and Family
Health 2012). Safe environments should be “free from toxins and fear, allow active
exploration without significant risk of harm” (Committee on Psychosocial
Aspects of Child and Family Health 2012). Nutritional counseling should focus
on “health-promoting food intake and eating habits” (Committee on Psychosocial
Aspects of Child and Family Health 2012). Second, the pediatrician should promote
the family’s and community’s capacity to promote health and prevent disease and
disability. Lastly, the pediatrician should engage the public and in policy
and programs which impact children and families. This includes “both legislative
and administrative actions that affect systems responsible for primary health care,
public health, child care and early education, child welfare, early intervention,
family economic stability (including employment support for parents and cash
assistance), community development (including sources of nutritious food), hous-
ing, and environmental protection” (Committee on Psychosocial Aspects of Child
and Family Health 2012).
Together with the growing complexity of the WCC, there remains some dissat-
isfaction by both practitioners and parents. In 2004, a survey of US pediatricians
reported the average WCC was 17 min for infants and toddlers and 20 min for older
adolescents (Periodic Survey #56 Pediatricians’ Provision of Preventive Care and
Use of Health Supervision Guidelines 2003). Eighty-five percent reported that
a lack of time was a significant barrier to providing the recommended content.
Not surprisingly, the second most common barrier was inadequate reimbursement
(58 %). In a recent national survey in the USA, over 94 % of parents reported at
least one unmet need in “parenting guidance, education, and screening by pediatric
clinician(s) in 1 or more of the content” areas (Bethell et al. 2004). Given these
issues, there is a movement to reformulate how WCC is provided. Some of the
efforts are directed towards practitioners (making them more efficient, delegating
more tasks to related professionals and ancillary staff, reformulating the content
of the WCC visit) and some are directed towards the “system” (improved
reimbursement, restructured training programs) (Schor 2004; Kuo et al. 2006).
A survey of other high-income nations finds many significant differences in
how WCC is delivered (Kuo et al. 2006). For example, WCC is provided by
non-pediatricians and, in many cases, nonphysicians. In most countries pediatri-

cians provide few WCC services instead being consultants to general practitioners
and nurses.
11.7 Bright Futures
Bright Futures is a federally funded initiative since 1990. It offers practice

guidelines that aim “to improve the quality of health services for children
through health promotion and disease prevention” (Bright Futures 2002). These
guidelines provide a comprehensive yet flexible approach to pediatric care from
birth through the 21st year. The premise of Bright Futures was to include a broader,
public health perspective of children’s health by including community groups
(e.g., schools, child care centers). Bright Futures aims to achieve these goals
through five strategies (Bright Futures Goals 2002):
1. Establish and maintain partnerships with a wide variety of healthcare
professional and public health organizations, families, states, corporations,
foundations, and federal agencies to promote and advance the Bright Futures
initiative in diverse settings.
2. Foster the adoption of the Bright Futures approach by identifying promising
practice models, disseminate those models to child and adolescent health
professionals and key stakeholder organizations, and provide technical
assistance.
3. Provide training, continued education, and assistance on Bright Futures child
health promotion and prevention content and philosophy to health professionals,
families, states, communities, and other partners.
4. Build Bright Futures outreach efforts, such as the Bright Futures newsletter and
Web site, which promote the Bright Futures initiative.
5. Update and maintain key Bright Futures tools and guidelines.
11.8 Healthy Steps
Another strategy for pediatric primary care is the Healthy Steps (HS) framework,
initiated in 1994 and funded by a private foundation (http://www.healthysteps.org/,
accessed December 2011). HS aims to deliver “Enhanced Well Child Care” – “a set
of coordinated practices and activities that expand the focus of primary care for
young children to include greater emphasis on behavior and development”
(http://www.healthysteps.org/healthysteps/homepage.nsf/All/WELL-CHILD.pdf/$
file/WELL-CHILD.pdf, accessed December 2011). The Enhanced Well Child Care
visit is provided jointly or sequentially by the pediatric clinician and the HS
specialist (HSS).
The most important component is the HSS, who provides a link between medical
professionals and the family. The HSS has a background in child development,
nursing, or social work and provides community-based support for the family. One
crucial activity involves home visitation services. Another key strategy in the HS
model is the use of “teachable moments.” This is a technique a pediatric practitioner
can use to providing parenting or health guidance in response to parental concerns
and questions. Currently there are 47 HS sites in the USA.
11.9 Medical Insurance for Children
In 2010, in the United States nearly 10 % or more than seven million children were
not covered by medical insurance (U.S. Department of Health and Human Services
2011).
Very low-income families can get medical insurance for their children through
Medicaid, jointly funded by the federal government and the states. Since 1997, the
Child Health Insurance Program (CHIP) has expanded Medicaid to include more
families who did not qualify for Medicaid. Having health insurance, however, does
not guarantee access. Many medical professionals do not participate in Medicaid,
largely because its reimbursement rates are relatively low.
Thirty-two of the 33 wealthiest countries provide universal healthcare; the
United States is the sole such country without this coverage (World Health
Organization). Norway was first with a universal healthcare system, since 1912.
The most recent adopter was Israel in 1995, with the adoption of the National
Health Insurance Law. The United States has struggled with a comprehensive
strategy to cover its children, much less all of her citizens. Short of universal
healthcare coverage for children, other strategies have been proposed to increase
coverage (Berman 2007). Since 2006, the state of Massachusetts Health
Reform Plan covered all children as well as uninsured low-income adults
(Health Care Access and Affordability Conference Committee Report 2006).
While the recently passed Affordable Care Act (“Obamacare”) does not provide
universal coverage, it will expand coverage for children as it is gradually
implemented (U.S. Department of Health and Human Services 2011).
Addressing the future of pediatric care in the USA, a recent Institute of Medicine
report (Institute of Medicine 2011) endorses the importance of a “whole child”
approach to healthcare. It states there is clear “impact of physical and social
environments (e.g., toxic exposures, safe neighborhoods, or crowded housing),
behaviors (e.g., diet or the use of alcohol or drugs), and relationships
(e.g., parent–child attachment) on the health status of children and adolescents
and their use of health care services.” The report emphasizes that much of
children’s well-being is not “medical.” The importance of social and resource
disparities is highlighted as a major contributor to adverse health outcomes.
This fits with the ecological model proposed by Bronfenbrenner and Belsky;
health can be placed into a similar contextual framework. An individual’s health is
dependent upon concentric influences from individual choices and the quality of
medical care available to immediate working and living condition and ultimately
Economic and social

opportunities and resources
Living and working conditions

in homes and communities
Medical Personal
care behavior
HEALTH
Fig. 11.2 Upstream and downstream influences on health (From Braverman et al. (2011))
larger economic and social forces. Braverman et al. (2011) proposed such
a framework (Fig. 11.2).
The Robert Wood Johnson Foundation’s Commission to Build a Healthier
America recognized the importance of a comprehensive, contextualized approach
to children’s health – “a child’s health is powerfully shaped by the environment in
which he or she lives, learns and plays. Both family and community matter and
private and public policies at the local, state and national level influence a child’s
opportunity to be healthy.” (Robert Wood Johnson Foundation Commission to
Build a Healthier America 2008)
In Reaching for a Healthier Life (Committee on Psychosocial Aspects of Child
and Family Health 2012), the MacArthur Foundation describes society as a ladder.
They argue that each rung on the ladder is a person’s access to “resources that
determine whether people can live a good life – prosperous, healthy, and secure – or
a life plagued by difficulties – insufficient income, poor health, and vulnerability.
People on the top are the best educated, have the most respected jobs, ample
savings, and comfortable housing” (Committee on Psychosocial Aspects of
Child and Family Health 2012). Those on lower rungs struggle to get basic
resources. This inequality is reflected in many negative outcomes to a person or
population. The ladder metaphor is reflected in public health as the social gradient
of health (Lynch and Kaplan 2000). Indeed, it is humbling to note that these recent
pronouncements echo Jacobi’s words from over a century ago. And, the USA
remains quite far from achieving that vision.
11.10 The Road Ahead
To be more responsive to the New Morbidity, pediatric primary care needs to

undergo some fundamental transformation. First, there is a need for training
programs at all levels to help health professionals be competent and comfortable in

playing this role. There is a need for leadership to guide interested professionals in
engaging in family, community, and societal influences on children’s health and
well-being. For example, the AAP urges that “the boundaries of pediatric concern
must move beyond the acute medical care of children and expand into the larger
ecology of the community, state, and society” (Committee on Psychosocial Aspects
of Child and Family Health 2012). There are six main areas that the AAP recom-
mends pediatricians target (Committee on Psychosocial Aspects of Child and
Family Health 2012):
1. Education focused on parents, foster parents, child care providers, and preschool
teachers to increase awareness of the adverse and long-term consequences of
toxic stress, in early childhood investment to develop creative, new strategies for
home-, school-, and center-based services to reduce toxic stress and to
strengthen the relationships that buffer children from adversity
2. Investment in community-based mentoring activities (e.g., after-school
programs, gymnastics, martial arts programs) that provide supportive relation-
ships for vulnerable children that help them learn to cope with adversity
3. Investment in early intervention programs that assist vulnerable young children
and families
4. Professional development for judges and other key participants in the
juvenile court and foster care systems about the biology of adversity and its
implications for case management, child custody, and foster care of maltreated
children
5. Collaboration with social workers and mental health and other professionals to
integrate effective services for the most vulnerable children and their families
This framework requires a shift in the usual role of the pediatric health
professional. By becoming more involved in child, family, and community
well-being, some changes in practice are needed:
1. Children will have more of their conventional medical services (WCC, immu-
nizations, growth and development screenings) provided by other professional
or ancillary staff.
2. Systems of training and mentoring of child healthcare professionals in
these new domains need to be designed and implemented. Reimbursement
for WCC services needs to be more in-line with the quality and value of
the visit. Child healthcare professionals will no longer be solely reimbursed
for tasks performed in the office but will be reimbursed for less
“conventional” services (curriculum development for schools, counseling of
parents, etc.). These newer duties will have to be integrated into a larger
reimbursement strategy which to be coordinated with government, local, or
insurance entities.
3. Broad, community-wide, health, and well-being strategies need to be developed
and implemented. These need to recognize any specific cultural needs of
a community.
The profession of pediatric medical care continues to evolve. The profession

should continue to embrace “healthcare” in a broader context, not just medical care.
As this occurs, there are some significant challenges to the evolution of pediatric
professional care away from the conventional medical (office-based) model
to a more comprehensive well-being approach. First, changing a paradigm of
professional practice (in any domain) is difficult. Many practitioners have
embraced and are familiar with the current office-based model, and it will require
tremendous effort to alter their practice. This paradigm shift will occur over
decades. Second, any changes in the practice of pediatric medicine will have to
be integrated into the advanced training programs, not just for physicians but for all
level of practitioners. As new practices are evolving, techniques and protocols on
how to train new physicians in the new mode of practice will have to be developed
or updated. As physicians modify their approach and roles in child health and
well-being, this will impact the roles and responsibilities for the entire spectrum of
professionals who are part of the larger systems of care. Additionally, pediatricians
who are currently in practice will require education regarding local and regional
services in their community. Many pediatric medical practitioners are unaware of
community resources or processes. For them to be more engaged, they will be
required to be “out there” more (i.e., more community-based). Third, the new
pediatric practice will require a restructuring of the financial reimbursement
models. The current fee-for-service practice will not be sustainable as the new
professional activities are commonly not adequately captured in the current insur-
ance structures. This could present an opportunity for fostering the changes to the
current practice. Often practice is shaped, or at least influenced, by financial
pressures. If local, state/regional, or federal resources could offset decreased insur-
ance reimbursement, pediatric professionals would more likely embrace changes to
their practice.
Lastly, any changes to the practice of pediatric medicine to a more well-
being focused profession (with all of the ripple effects that would have) will
require significant planning and coordination. For a comprehensive tiered system
of collaboration to be successful, it cannot be patchwork or ad hoc. As the
profession changes, the community of child serving professionals must change
with it.
In summary, the pediatric medical profession was birthed as comprehensive,
community-based, and well-being focused. The pediatrician remains a trusted
counsel to families about the health of their children. The current practice of
office-based pediatric medical care has restricted the provider’s ability to
“meet the family” in their community. As there is a greater understanding of the
new “New Morbidity” confronting today’s children and families, pediatric medical
practice will be confronted with its own challenges. While these challenges are not
insurmountable, they will require a strong commitment and much work. There is
now a tremendous opportunity to usher in a new day for the field and accomplish
Jacobi’s vision.
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Public Health Aspects of Child Well-Being
12
Sally Brinkman and Fiona Stanley
12.1 Introduction
There is a dramatically increasing body of evidence showing that the pathways to

adult disease start in utero and early childhood. The main concerns of those working
in public health are the common, chronic, and burdensome adult diseases. While
there may still be some residual tension between the “traditional” public health
groups, who believe that the most important pathways involve adult lifestyle
exposures (traditionally substance abuse, poor diet, and low levels of exercise),
there is increasing realization that the opportunities for prevention and public health
interventions will be more instrumental the more we understand the early pathways
to disease (Lynch and Davey-Smith 2005). Those interested in the social
determinants of public health will also realize that a combination of exposures
and social circumstances during childhood crucially influences the whole life
course (Li et al. 2009).
To effectively improve public health from pregnancy to old age, we need pro-
fessionals working in child development, maternal child health, and public health to
work better together with an understanding of the genetic and environmental
interactions during early child development. This chapter initially provides some
background to the influence of public health on child health and well-being and then
argues for the need for a common instrument to measure and compare child well-
being as a fundamental requisite to providing the evidence base to facilitate modern
public health approaches.
S. Brinkman (*) • F. Stanley

Telethon Institute for Child Health Research, Centre for Child Health Research, The University of
Western Australia, Crawley, WA, Australia

318 S. Brinkman and F. Stanley
12.2 Background: How Public Health Has Contributed to Our

Understanding of Child Well-Being
The essence of public health is to prevent disease and to enhance health and quality
of life within populations. It uses a range of population measures from legislation
(e.g., to put fluoride in water supplies, to mandate folate fortification in food,
enforce seat belts, or to increase the costs of unhealthy exposures such as tobacco)
to health promotion campaigns (e.g., to increase immunization, avoid harmful
exposures, avoid obesity, and to exercise regularly). Primary health care in many
countries has also had a significant role in providing individual screening for
disease and health promotion.
12.3 The Contemporary/Mainstream Public Health’s

Relationship to Child Well-Being
Since the mid-twentieth century, biomedical and individual lifestyle theories to

disease causation have dominated, influencing attitudes to child public health
thinking. Such thinking has been summarized to include three views: (1) that the
real causes of disease comprise biophysical agents, genes, and risk factors with
exposures largely the consequence of individual characteristics and behaviors;
(2) these real causes of disease in individuals are enough to explain population
rates of disease; and (3) that theorizing about disease occurrence is equivalent
to theorizing about disease causation at the individual and biological level (Kreiger
2011). What such thinking ignores are the considerable pathways that are now
being understood around the social and emotional aspects of child development,
well-being, and how they relate to overall public health. We need to embrace all this
thinking to achieve the best approaches to improving health outcomes.
The following section details some of the most significant biomedical and
individual lifestyle public health interventions that continue to shape the health of
children across the world.
12.3.1 Hygiene
In children, diarrheal diseases and respiratory infections are the major causes of
morbidity and mortality worldwide. Diarrhea has also been implicated as a cause of
poor growth (Humphrey 2009). Access to clean water, hand washing with soap, and
fresh uncontaminated food all significantly reduce the incidence of diarrheal dis-
ease. The Lancet Maternal and Child Under Nutrition Series estimated that sanita-
tion and hygiene interventions implemented with 99 % coverage would reduce
diarrhea incidence by approximately 30 % (Bhutta et al. 2008).
A review of recent evaluations of non-vaccine interventions for the prevention of
childhood diarrhea in developing countries both confirmed the importance of
standard strategies (e.g., breast-feeding, clean water supply, and sanitation
12 Public Health Aspects of Child Well-Being 319
improvements) and suggested refinements in approaches to personal and domestic

hygiene, weaning education, and food hygiene (Huttly et al. 1997). Although
mainly considered an issue in developing countries, there are population groups
such as Australian Aboriginal children living in remote communities that are still
experiencing a high burden of common infectious diseases due to poor hygiene and
unsanitary living conditions (McDonald et al. 2008).
12.3.2 Immunization
Apart from the provision of clean water and hygiene practices, vaccines have been
more effective, than any other public health measure, particularly in children
(Pollard 2007). Improved immunization programs and the development of new
vaccines continue to provide opportunities to improve and sustain the health of our
children. Although immunization has always been considered one of the greatest
and most well-known success stories of public health, there are still challenges in
communicating the benefits of immunization to all populations and in particular the
importance of delivering vaccines to those in greatest need for the benefit of not just
those individuals but for the entire population (Pollard 2007). For example, in 1980
only 20 % of children worldwide had received three doses of DTP (diphtheria,
tetanus, pertussis) vaccine, but this had risen to 78 % by 2004 (Pollard 2007). While
funding for vaccines is unprecedented, particularly now in developing countries,
there are, however, concerns over the sustainability of funding. Children in the
hardest-to-reach and poorest communities are still dying of preventable diseases
such as diphtheria, polio, measles, rotavirus, tetanus, and pertussis (Pollard 2007).
Unfortunately measles is still the fifth most common cause of death in children aged
0–14 years of age (Lopez et al. 2006).
12.3.3 Sexual Health
HIV/AIDS is the 6th most common cause of death among children in developing
countries (Lopez et al. 2006). In addition to this, there are more than 15 million
children in the world who have been orphaned due to the death of their parents from
HIV/AIDS. Almost all children with HIV/AIDS have the disease through “vertical”
transmission from their mother at birth or immediately afterwards through breast-
feeding. This “vertical” transmission can almost be totally eliminated if the mother
has access to antiretroviral therapy (Blair et al. 2010). There are however, concerns
regarding the increased and mass use of antiretrovirals, including poor implemen-
tation in many developing countries, where issues such as interruptions in drug
supplies can lead to limited health gains for the individuals and an increased
likelihood of transmission. Many programs rely on the cheapest possible drug,
leading to toxicity and potentially drug resistance (Jamison et al. 2006). As always,
public health prevention via increased use of condoms and education about STDs
are still the key methods to reduce HIV transmission.
12.3.4 Nutrition/Obesity
Babies of mothers who have poor nutrition during pregnancy have an increased
likelihood that their children will be of low birth weight, have congenital
abnormalities, and have higher risk of mortality after birth. Folate has now
been added to cereals and breads in many countries as a classic population-wide
public health approach to prevent spina bifida and other serious birth defects
(Stanley and Maberley 2006). Vitamin D deficiency during pregnancy can lead to
low bone density, increased risk of infections, and an increased risk of neonatal
convulsions in the child, and there is now a considerable debate about the longer-
term negative impact of vitamin D deficiency on children (Wagner et al. 2012).
Iodine salts are still provided as nutrient supplements globally to prevent neuro-
logical deficits (Pharoah et al. 2012). Of late, this issue seems to be reemerging in
subpopulation groups in the UK (Hetzel 2012; Vanderpump 2012). The addition of
fluoride to water to prevent dental caries in children and adults is another classic
population-wide nutritional intervention, which has had a dramatic impact on child
health and well-being.
The extent of the advantages of breast-feeding have been debated; however, in
general it is agreed that breast-feeding is associated with reduced respiratory and
gastrointestinal infections, a reduced risk of sudden infant death syndrome and
asthma, and a reduced risk of childhood obesity and of heart disease later in life
(Blair et al. 2010). It is also acknowledged that breast-feeding increases the
likelihood of a positive attachment between the mother and child. In developing
countries, the promotion of breast-feeding has shown to reduce diarrhea-related
morbidity by 8–20 % and to reduce mortality up to 6 months of age by 24–27 %
(Huttly et al. 1997). Much of this reduction can be attributed to the prevention of
infection due to bad water (used when preparing formula) rather than to specifically
the positive properties of breast milk (Huttly et al. 1997). Educational campaigns to
improve the weaning practices by mothers have also shown positive results, cutting
the mortality rate by 2–12 % for children under 5 years of age (Taylor and
Greenough 1989).
Child underweight or stunting causes about 20 % of all mortality of children
younger than 5 years of age and leads to long-term cognitive deficits, poorer
performance in school, fewer years of completed schooling, and lower adult
economic productivity (Victora et al. 2008). Of the 555 million preschool children
in developing countries, it is estimated that 32 % are stunted and 20 % are
underweight (Black et al. 2008). These data illustrate a clear link between child
health, well-being, and total population health in these countries. The challenges for
public health services to alleviate poverty and inequalities, are that the sustainable
solutions will come from social and economic strategies – and such strategies are
outside the usual scope of traditional public health.
In developed countries the concern is primarily the opposite, with steadily
increasing prevalence of overweight and obese children. Such an increase in
overweight and obesity has implications for future population health and well-
being via increases in diabetes, heart disease, and stroke, as well as the more
immediate individual negative consequences for self-esteem and peer relationships

during childhood (Blair et al. 2010). Many public health practitioners have
suggested that societal influences like the perception of safety for children and
the reduction of the “backyard” and safe parks have all lead to children spending
more time indoors, with increasing amounts of “screen time” (Hands et al. 2011).
Children are less likely to ride their bikes or walk to school, because parents are
either frightened to let them go alone or do not have the time to walk or ride with
them, so many are now being dropped off at the school’s front gate. School health
promotion strategies are frequently targeting children to increase their fruit and
vegetable consumption and increase physical activity while trying to reduce expo-
sure to saturated fats and high sugar content food through school canteens and
educational campaigns (Branca et al. 2007). However, such behavior change
interventions cannot operate in isolation from the broader socioeconomic context
and the increasingly obesogenic environment (Waters et al. 2011). For example,
there is some evidence that the increase in women working is influencing some of
the negative dietary trends (Li et al. 2011). The available knowledge base on which
to develop appropriate public health interventions to reduce the risk of obesity
across the whole populations still remains limited. The impact of interventions on
preventing obesity and the extent to which they work equitably remains poorly
understood (Waters et al. 2011).
12.3.5 Substance Abuse
Maternal smoking has been shown to have a significant influence on the fetus and is
associated with a range of poor outcomes such as low birth weight, preterm birth,
and later childhood respiratory disease. Parental smoking after birth has also shown
to increase the risk of otitis media and respiratory tract infections (Jacoby et al.
2008; Moore et al. 2010). Antismoking public health interventions have targeted
women during pregnancy to quit smoking for the benefit of both themselves and
their unborn baby; however, controlled trials have shown that such health promo-
tion programs are mainly ineffective (Whitworth and Dowswell 2009).
The impact of substance abuse (alcohol particularly, but also drug abuse) on the
health and well-being of children is profoundly negative. This relates not only to
pregnancy-related exposures with resulting fetal alcohol syndrome but to almost all
poor childhood outcomes including child abuse and neglect as well as physical
conditions (O’Leary et al. 2010). Children born to and raised by parents who abuse
substances commence their lives in high-risk environments and the impact can be
lifelong. While the data on fetal alcohol spectrum disorder are not complete and
data on substance abuse even harder to quantify and study, we believe that these
exposures may now be the most important preventable causes of intellectual
disability and developmental disorders worldwide (May et al. 2009).
As noted above, individual lifestyle and biomedical approaches to public health
have been common over the last century. The major challenge is how to get people
to change their behaviors for the betterment of their future health. Such approaches
are, however, predicated on the basis that behaviors and habits are discrete and
independently modifiable and that individuals can voluntarily and independently
choose to modify their behavior. As mentioned earlier, such individualistic models
ignore the influence of societal, familial, cultural, and wider population and com-
munity attributes and contexts. In contrast, modern public health appreciates the
complexity of disease causation, as outlined below.
12.4 Modern Public Health’s Relationship to Child Well-Being
The two most important new developments in public health which have impacted
most on research and thinking in child well-being and public health have been the
movements around the social determinants of health and the developmental origins
of health and disease.
12.4.1 Life Course Approach: Developmental Origins of Health

and Disease (DOHaD) and Epigenetics
DOHaD commenced with studies which showed that low birth weight was associ-
ated with coronary heart disease (CHD), type 2 diabetes, and hypertension and that
these effects of low birth weight were increased by slow infant growth and rapid
weight gain in childhood (Barker et al. 2002). They coined the term “fetal pro-
gramming” to explain these pathways. Moreover, the relationship between child-
hood characteristics and later disease was found to persist even when controlling for
factors previously thought to mediate the relationship, such as adult smoking and
obesity (Fuller-Thomson et al. 2010).
Fundamentally the DOHaD and epigenetic approaches take the view that
throughout development there are strong and time-related interactions between
biological and genetic characteristics and environmental influences which influence
disease status throughout life. This approach, termed epigenetics, moves away from
the debate between nature versus nurture, instead strongly suggesting that nature
and nurture interact at critical time periods, from conception through to old age to
influence all of life disease risks, health, and well-being.
The ability of environments to influence the impact of genes during development
is still poorly understood in relation to human disease. Epigenetics is likely to prove
of immense importance to our understanding of how fetal and child development
occurs, but it will require some healthy scientific debates across disciplines and
methodologies (Ebrahim 2012; Waterland and Michels 2007).
12.4.2 Social Determinants of Health
The “social determinants of health” approach takes the view that societal influences
have a significant influence on health and health inequalities. That there is a strong
relationship between the way people live in societies and their physical and mental
health is logical and crucial for us to appreciate if we are to develop the most
effective strategies for sustainable public health interventions. The major contribu-
tions to this whole area which strongly make the case for societal interventions
come from Marmot (2010) and Hertzman (Hertzman 1994; Hertzman and Boyce
2010). In 2005, the World Health Organization established a Social Determinants
of Health Commission which was chaired by Marmot and the “Early Child Devel-
opment Knowledge Network” set up under this Commission was led by Hertzman
(Hertzman et al. 2010; Irwin et al. 2007). The push for greater understanding around
the social determinants as a buffer to the prodigious individualistic biomedical
paradigms was at its height in the mid- to late 1990s and continues to struggle for
appropriate recognition and policy influence today. Consequently, in this chapter,
we have spoken about the social determinant approach to child public health as
a modern public health approach, despite the fact that it has been known for
centuries that poverty affects health and development and that systemic interven-
tions are required to address inequality – that is, the blame and responsibility cannot
just fall to the individual as a solution. The following quote comes from a series of
free public lectures in London that were later published in a book meant for the
people and public administrators back in 1881:
The deaths which occur in this country are fully a third more numerous than they would be
if our existing knowledge of the chief causes of disease were reasonably applied throughout
the country; that of deaths which, in this sense, may be called preventable . . . then there is
the fact that this terrible continuing tax on human life and welfare, falls with immense over-
proportion upon the most helpless classes of the community; upon the poor; the ignorant;
the subordinate; the immature; upon classes which, in great part through want of knowl-
edge, and in great part because of their dependent position, cannot remonstrate for them-
selves against the miseries thus brought upon them. And have, in this circumstance, the
strongest claim of all claims on a legislature which can justly measure and can abate their
sufferings. (Smart 1881)
It is not enough for researchers to just continue to show that social conditions
and economic inequality have potent consequences for health, development, and
well-being. What is required is a better understanding of how these social and
economic influences “get under the skin” and what we can do about them from
a population-wide and policy perspective. Understanding the multiple determinants
of health and how they interplay, as well as the complexity of mediating factors that
may influence the relationships between the causes of ill-health and health status, is
the new public health.
For modern epidemiologists, the step away from solely individual causation
approaches to a population-level understanding of disease distribution can be
attributed to Geoffrey Rose. In 1985, Rose originally published “Sick Individuals
and Sick Populations” where he exemplified that the more widespread a cause
across a population, the less it explains the distribution of disease, and therefore he
argued that a population strategy of prevention is required where the risk is widely
diffused through the whole population (Rose 2001). The recent terminology of
progressive or proportionate universality takes Rose’s work a step further and aims
to support policy makers in their understanding of the requirements for both

universal and targeted strategies by addressing the barriers that people face to
gain access to the services and supports offered across the whole socioeconomic
spectrum in a way that is proportionate to the underlying levels of inequality
(Marmot 2010). As will be argued later in this chapter, such insights are only
revealed with population-wide monitoring and surveillance data.
Another recent paradigm trying to support policy makers and preventative
public/population health strategies is the concept of biological embedding
(Hertzman and Wiens 1996), which aims to explain how the social environment
gets “under the skin.” The hypothesis is explained as “systematic differences in the
qualities of emotional, social, intellectual, and physical circumstances are found in
different socio-economic, psychosocial, and developmental environments. From
the time of conception through the first several years of life and at a diminished pace
thereafter, these differences will affect the development of the brain and the central
nervous system, and will, in turn have systematic effects on cognitive, social,
emotional and behavioural development” (Hertzman and Frank 2006). Biological
embedding, as such, brings much of modern public health together – social deter-
minants of health, eco and environmental influences, an understanding of the
broader context in which children are raised, and a life-course perspective together.
The various contributors to the social determinant models are outside health
services and include such things as working conditions, employment, housing,
education, community environments, urban design, public transport, equality of
opportunities, and positive cultural environments. The social determinants and
DOHaD thinking come together as we realize that many of the ways in which
fetal programming embed are a result of the very adverse social environments listed
above. It is exciting to think that if all these different areas of public health, child
development, and social researchers could work together – including those inter-
ested in environmental exposures (such as lead, mercury, iodine deficiency, alco-
hol, smoking, other drugs) – we could bring holistic, sustainable, and effective
solutions to the myriad of problems which damage child health and well-being. In
many ways such efforts mirror the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of the
Child which was mentioned at the beginning of this chapter.
12.5 Status of Indicators of Child Well-Being in Public Health
Current basic health and education statistics collected to compare the progress of
countries commonly include rates of infant, maternal, and child mortality; breast-
feeding; immunization; and primary school enrolments and attendance (UNICEF
2010). Notwithstanding the significance of these vital statistics, those in public
health should also be seeking indicators that not only determine whether children
are surviving, or if children are attending school, but how well populations of
children are developing. This is now recognized by organizations such as OECD,
the World Bank, and UNICEF who are promoting the use of internationally
comparable instruments to measure child development. It is understood that such
instruments should foster global understanding while providing the evidence for
local through to international policy development.
The UNICEF report cards written in collaboration with the Innocenti Research
Centre attempt to compare measures of child and youth well-being across several
domains for the wealthier countries of the world (e.g., countries that are members of
the OECD) (UNICEF 2007). They include material well-being, health and safety,
educational well-being, family and peer relationships, behaviors and risks, and
subjective well-being. The data included come from a range of sources and provide
considerable and variable methodological challenges. For example, comparisons
across these countries with indicators such as mortality and low birth weight
are more robust than those relating to how youth view themselves and their place
in society.
The Australian Research Alliance for Children and Youth (ARACY) published
a similar set of indicators comparing the best in the world for each indicator with the
rates for all Australian children, whether they had improved or worsened over time,
and a separate analysis for our Aboriginal children (known to be the most margin-
alized and impoverished in the nation) (http://www.aracy.org.au/index.cfm?
pageName¼report_card_overview). The most interesting aspect of such report
cards is how much variation there is in many well-being indicators across countries
with similar incomes. That is, there is no clear gradient between national wealth as
measured by GDP or GDP per capita; in fact the most wealthy countries in the OECD
(USA and UK) are ranked the lowest on most measures of child well-being. This
suggests that factors other than crude estimations of available financial resources are
more powerful for child well-being. In fact, it may well be the policies, practices, or
values in countries that account for the variation in child well-being when countries
with similar incomes and capacity are contrasted. The implications for guiding public
policy are obvious. Measuring child well-being across nations and understanding the
major drivers of good outcomes may result in much more effective public health in all
countries. Do those countries that invest more in upstream activities, for example, to
reduce poverty (such as taxing the wealthy to fund family support and child care for
the poor), do better in these rankings than those countries who tend to put more
funding into downstream activities? It is of interest that while the USA has the lowest
neonatal mortality rates in very preterm infants, it has very high (and increasing) rates
of preterm births, with the result that overall infant mortality is higher in the USA
than in any other developed country (OECD).
There is some evidence that those working in the development and implemen-
tation of public policy in relation to children and young people are influenced by
these well-publicized and regularly published international comparisons. Advocacy
groups use these data to “shame” their country’s responses to child and youth issues
by highlighting how poorly they are performing in comparison to, for example,
Norway who ranks highly in almost all measures of child well-being.
The measurement of child development is additionally important considering the
implications for monitoring that are highlighted by the United Nations Convention
on the Rights of the Child (Bernard van Leer Foundation 2006; UNICEF 2009).
In 2009, 194 UN members signed up to the Convention, representing all states
except for the United States of America and Somalia. Each of the countries who
ratified the convention are responsible for providing children with the opportunities
necessary to develop physical, cognitive, social, and emotional capacities in early
life (Convention on the Rights of the Child et al. 1989). In August 2010, the United
Nations’ Secretary General delivered a report on the status of the Convention of the
Rights of the Child to the United Nations’ General Assembly. At the conclusion of
the report, the Secretary General encourages states to
(a) Establish a framework of laws, policies and programmes ensuring that the rights of the
child are implemented within a continuum of care (maternal, newborn, child health),
education and protection throughout the early years of life, including:
(i) Developing a plan for the realization of children’s rights in early childhood that is
comprehensive in scope, is supported by operational strategies with clear goals,
timelines and adequate resources, and is aimed at ensuring the development of the
child’s fullest potential, protecting young children from all forms of violence,
abuse and exploitation, and maximizing opportunities for their voice to be heard
in all matters that affect them. These strategies should involve all levels of
government and include civil society partners;
(ii) Supporting research, monitoring, and evaluation studies on young children’s
rights, development and well being, including the identification of indicators
that are universally accepted, locally relevant and easily applied;. . .. (United
Nations 2010)
The implications of this report are clear; however, unlike mortality rates, the
measurement of child development is influenced by culture, language, and theory,
and thus its concept can vary across place, culture, language, and research tradition,
making international comparability difficult (Hambleton et al. 2005). The definition
of death and birth are more consistent across countries, but progressing towards
indicators like breast-feeding requires strict adherence to definitions. Assessments
such as psychological, educational, and developmental tests are even more complex
and require significant consideration particularly prior to making any cross-country
or even within-country comparisons.
Early childhood development (ECD) is generally defined as the holistic devel-
opment of children from conception. Development is defined as the process of
change in which the child comes to master increasingly complex levels of moving,
thinking, feeling, and interacting with people and objects in their environment.
There are various aspects of development, and these are called developmental
domains such as physical, social, emotional, language, and cognitive development.
Epidemiology also uses such domains to measure child well-being.
Children develop at different rates on each of the developmental domains. For
example, babies generally begin to crawl from 6 to 10 months of age. This age
range is considered within the normal developmental range for this ability.
Irrespective of when during this entire period a child starts crawling, the child is
considered on course for healthy development. The rates and patterns of develop-
ment during the early years are highly variable, and not all children who are doing
well are doing the same thing at the same time. However, the classification of
developmental delay occurs when children have not reached these developmental
milestones within the expected time period. For example, if the normal range for
learning to walk is between 9 and 15 months, a 20-month-old child that is not

starting to walk would be considered developmentally delayed. The most common
instruments in the field of child development are individual diagnostic instruments
to identify developmental delay. These instruments are usually unidimensional and
have a binary outcome (i.e., pass or fail on that milestone).
The dimension of child well-being, as opposed to developmental delay, allows
for the measurement of both the positive and negative aspects of how a child is
developing and allows for a holistic approach to the child (i.e., social, emotional,
cognitive, and physical well-being). Such measures also have the potential to place
a child on a developmental trajectory rather than simply a bimodal pass/fail
outcome. However, there is little agreement in the literature as to how to measure
child well-being and many of the current instruments only measure one dimension
of child well-being and/or take a deficit approach.
12.6 Why Do We Want to Measure Child Well-Being in Public

Health?
There are numerous reasons to measure child well-being and these have
been discussed before by others (Young 2007; McCain et al. 2007). We would
suggest from a public or population health point of view there are eight main
motivations.
1. Monitoring the state of early child development at the level of the population
As now ratified by the Convention on the Rights of the Child, countries are
required to monitor how well children are developing within and across their
population. Monitoring the state of early child development impacts children and
families by (1) raising the profile of the issue, (2) advocating strongly for children
and families, and (3) providing a base level of information around which to
mobilize action. Public access to the results of monitoring means that civil servants,
nongovernment organizations, aid agencies, and the media alike are able to use the
results to advocate for children and families. In essence, publication of results
promotes recognition of and action to address new policy issues.
2. Evaluate and monitor change in child well-being over time
The monitoring of child development/well-being over time enables communities
and populations to determine if they are making any improvements. Only by
monitoring over time can policy makers and service providers determine if they
are making a difference to the new generations of children born every year. If
improvements are made across societies and population groups to help support
families, we would hope to see improvements in well-being over successive cohorts
of children.
3. Identification of resilience in communities that support child well-being
Population measurement (such as a census) of child development enables the
relative comparison of communities. Comparing how communities do in compar-
ison to each other leads to the question why? That is, why are some communities
doing better than others and what are the strengths and weaknesses that help support
families and children in some communities better than others? And of particular
interest is what are the characteristics that explain why some high-risk communities
are doing unexpectedly well in terms of child development? These questions can
only be asked and investigated with population-wide data.
4. Understanding the state of child well-being in special populations
Within each country there are special population groups, such as Aboriginal,
specific migrant population groupings, and maybe populations defined by geogra-
phy, language background, or economic circumstances. Child development and
well-being like most health outcomes tend to vary across such population group-
ings. Quantification of the relative and absolute difference across these groupings,
as well as the variation in results within the special populations of interest, can
reveal patterns of child well-being that lead to a better understanding of the
determinants of child well-being and inform public policies (health and other) for
these groups.
5. Anchor developmental trajectories to help evaluate early childhood public
health policies, interventions, and programs
Instruments that are able to measure child development or well-being, as
opposed to developmental delay, are able to place individual children on
a developmental scale. As such it is easier to anchor a child’s developmental
trajectory making it easier to assess how these children continue to develop over
time. Such scales improve our ability to evaluate public health policies, interven-
tions, and programs through traditional research designs such as randomized
controlled trials and longitudinal cohort studies. Furthermore, findings from longi-
tudinal studies are able to provide evidence for forecasting models. Thus,
a combination of population-wide cross-sectional monitoring linked with longitu-
dinal studies allows policy makers to evaluate their policies, interventions, and
programs by forecasting and assessing the implications for future human capital on
the basis of child development.
6. Inform community development strategies and public policy
It is vitally important that governments and service providers base policy
making, service planning, and community development strategies on evidence
(i.e., evidence-based). Population monitoring provides evidence, which can help
increase the recognition of a policy issue. The extent and nature of the problems can
be quantified to inform the policy actions required. A UNICEF report on evidence-
based policy stated that “measuring the impact of a policy intervention is more
demanding of methodology and of information than is monitoring policy imple-
mentation. Incorporating an explicit mechanism for evaluating policy impact into
the design of a policy is a key step to ensure its evaluability.” (UNICEF 2008).
7. Understanding culture
To better understand and unpack the influence of culture, research studies
comparing migrant populations to the population of “home origin” are also becom-
ing more common with the use of internationally comparable population measures.
Doing so enables better understanding about how cultural practices impact both
positively and negatively on child well-being.
8. International comparison
Although many people do not necessarily approve of rankings or league tables,
as mentioned earlier, international comparisons can act as an advocacy tool and
provide a strong catalyst for action. Political leaders do not like to see their
countries ranking fall or perform poorly against other “like” countries. International
comparison can also lead to a better understanding of how macro-level policies can
impact upon families and children. For instance, child care assistance, maternity/
paternity leave entitlements, minimum wage standards, and the like, which tend to
be nationwide policies, can be better evaluated when internationally comparable
measures are utilized over time.
Essentially the reasons for monitoring child development are to increase under-
standing of the early determinants of children’s health and development – an
understanding which will, in turn, inform the organizational, structural, and envi-
ronmental changes that are needed to build better support for children and their
families. This knowledge will inform effective preventive strategies to improve
population health throughout life. To make such improvements, across and within
countries, requires firstly an understanding of the complexity of the patterns of child
development across various population groupings and secondly use of that under-
standing to inform a mix of universal and targeted strategies, interventions, and
policy decisions.
The quotes below from UNICEF offer an excellent summary of this section.
The true measure of a nation’s standing is how well it attends to its children - their health
and safety, their material security, their education and socialisation, and their sense of being
loved, valued, and included in the families and societies into which they are born. (UNICEF
2007)
Measurement serves as the hand-rail of policy, keeping efforts on track towards goals,
encourages sustained attention, gives early warning signs of success or failure, fuels
advocacy, ensures accountability, and helps decision making in relation to the most
effective allocation of resources. (UNICEF 2007)
12.7 The Challenges of Measuring Child Well-Being for Public

Health Research
To date, the vast majority of population-based early childhood research has been
conducted in a relatively small number of economically affluent nations, leaving
vast gaps in knowledge about the state of early child development in more eco-
nomically marginalized regions. Such child development and well-being data, if it
were available, would preferably be consistent and comparable. Consistency would
enable comparisons between and within countries across time, gender, age,
sociodemographic groups, and rural to urban geographical areas.
Currently, late childhood is the focus of the majority of surveys (European School
Survey Project on Alcohol and other Drugs (ESPAD), Health Behavior in School-
Aged Children (HBSC), Program for International School Assessment (PISA),
Trends in International Mathematics and Science Study (TIMSS)); beyond traditional

health or education data, there is, however, very little survey and time-series data on
early childhood (ages 0–5) or middle childhood (ages 6–11). The development of
a broader set of indicators on child well-being and development will allow for a more
detailed analysis of the well-being of particular groups of children and ultimately
stimulate national and international debates and policy responses that are in the best
interests of children and enable all children to realize their full potential (UNICEF
2007). Conversely, a present lack of data and the current unequal distribution of data
collection pose challenges for increasing the global awareness of the importance of
early child development and well-being in shaping future human capital and partic-
ipation in the economy and in civil society.
Although the need for such instruments and indicators is clear, the challenge to
adapt and validate instruments so that country comparisons can be reliably made is
not easy. A growing body of literature on the theoretical underpinnings of
approaches to cross-cultural adaptations (Herdman et al. 1997, 1998) indicates
the complexity of the process. Unfortunately research has not advanced to a stage
where there exists a library of instruments, from which people can select an
instrument and then apply it locally knowing that the instrument is valid and
reliable for their particular country and context and thus be confident in making
conclusions on the results observed. The process of validating an instrument
requires a series of steps to be taken before a sufficient level of confidence can be
placed in the tool and, subsequently, inferences can be made about the children
based on the scores or results from the instrument. What we know depends on how
we know it. Improper validation can lead to measurement errors, such as accepting
findings that may not be true or rejecting differences that may indeed be true but do
not fit the fashion or modern theoretical understanding.
The methodological challenges to adapt and validate test instruments for country
comparison led to the formation of the International Test Commission (ITC). The
ITC, although formed for psychological and educational assessment, provides
guidelines that can be equally applied to the field of child well-being. The Guide-
lines (International Test Commission (ITC) (ITC) 2000) stipulate the various steps
that should be taken before instruments can be used to reliably compare results
across countries and cultures. The most recent version (2010) of the ITC Guidelines
for translating and adapting tests can be downloaded freely and covers the follow-
ing categories: context, test development and adaptation, administration, and doc-
umentation/score interpretation. In total there are 22 guidelines that apply whenever
moving a test from one cultural setting to another (either within or across countries)
(http://www.intestcom.org/upload/sitefiles/40.pdf).
Although this chapter is not long enough to delve completely into culture, it is
important to note from a public health approach the aspects of culture that are very
important to consider. But firstly what is culture anyway? “Is culture an ineffable
emergent quality greater than the sum of its parts, or is culture an aggregation of
variables that is equal to their sum? This question is of more than passing interest to
developmental scientists. It is a crucial conceptual foundation that informs how
culture can or should be measured in cross-cultural developmental science research.
Are cultural similarities and differences somehow intrinsic and unmeasurable, or

can they be categorised and quantified? Furthermore, cultures are composed of
people. How do the two relate” (Bornstein 2010, p. 37).
Invalid measures can either inflate or hide true differences in child well-being or
development that might actually be the result of cultural differences. What may be
a reliable measure of well-being in one culture may not work for others. Cross-
cultural equivalence is difficult in terms of child well-being as the equivalence of
the concepts that define the dimensions of well-being may not be consistent. It may
be useful for researchers interested in measuring child well-being to make
a distinction between emotional states that vary in intensity and individual differ-
ences in well-being from a health perspective that should be more stable over time.
Child health researchers can learn from the literature around the development of
personality trait indicators to aid the making of such distinctions.
Essentially the difficulty is to create measures that can reliably show differential
child development across countries so that it becomes possible to then investigate
how cultural practices and norms may impact on child development; that is, culture
should not be part of the measured aspect of development (dependent variable),
instead it should be captured in the measured aspect of the independent variables.
From a public policy point of view, public health has a significant role in trying to
change those prevailing negative dominant structures that prevent or curtail chil-
dren realizing their developmental potential. With the knowledge that both poverty
and inequality are damaging conditions for child well-being, social policy and
cultural change is required to redress the power formations, social arrangements,
values, and practices that hold children back. Thus, from a public health perspec-
tive, it is important to investigate how culture influences behavior and care giving
practices and how these may influence child development and well-being in both
a positive and negative way.
Additionally public health interventions need to be informed by the attitudes,
beliefs, and practices that are influenced by culture. An understanding of culture is
important in order to enhance the efficacy with which public health messages are
communicated. From a systems public health perspective, culture influences how
health-care settings and systems are developed and the paradigms in which health-
care professionals are trained. Thus, in a workforce and systems approach, public
health has a role in raising the awareness of the importance of culture. For further
readings around these points, we suggest Kleinman (1981), Kreuter and McClure
(2004).
Indicators of child development and well-being need to be able to help inform
understanding about how children’s outcomes vary by social and economic condi-
tions. Eckersley (2006) argues that cultural characteristics such as materialism or
individualism can have an important impact on a person’s self-control and levels of
social support. Typically aligned with Western cultures, materialism is associated
with dissatisfaction (rather than happiness), depression, anxiety, anger, isolation,
and alienation resulting in the human needs for security, safety, and connectedness
being unmet in materialistic cultures. Eckersley contends that individualism and
materialism affect well-being through their influence on values. Values, being
a core component of culture, provide a framework for deciding what is important,

true, right, and good (Eckersley 2006).
Such values bring order and meaning to people’s lives and provide a framework
to guide child-rearing practices. Culture can clearly have both positive and negative
influences on children. Where there exist potentially negative aspects of cultural
practices, at times political correctness and the fear of challenging cultural practices
may have a deleterious effect on the development of public health interventions.
Sutton provides some challenging thoughts on this matter in his book aptly titled the
“Politics of Suffering: Indigenous Australia and the end of liberal consensus.”
Sutton states.
. . . the kind of deep cultural changes that may assist a real move out of profound
disadvantage are not well understood, not just in official policy-making circles, but more
generally, and in my own grasp of the situation as much as anyone else’s. It is easier for an
anthropologist to suggest why it is that certain past cultural shifts have been effective in
improving a peoples quality of life, than to suggest future shifts that people might consider
trying to manipulate so as to have a better existence. One of the obstacles to effective debate
is the present context is that so many people are still in denial over the need for cultural
change. (Sutton 2009, p. 69)
These insights into the importance of culture and the recognition of the complex
interplay between culture and history, religion, politics, economics, and the status
of women, children, ethnic, and indigenous groups are fundamental to understand-
ing the health of populations. As such, the development of indicators to measure
child well-being and development needs to be robust enough to actually decipher
true differences in child development across all of the subpopulation categories.
Only then will it be possible to unpack this complex interplay to determine the
facilitators and barriers to positive child health and well-being. Those in the field
who are aware of the methodological issues will be better able to critically evaluate
research findings and in turn may help foster the development of improved methods
and thus advances in knowledge.
12.8 Research Designs in Public Health
It would be remiss to write a chapter on public health and not have a section
dedicated to research design. Research design is fundamentally linked to the
discipline of public health through the field of epidemiology. Often overlooked,
however, is that the generalizability of results, no matter what research design is
chosen, can be cleverly enhanced through the choice of a common indicator.
In developmental science, longitudinal studies and cross-sectional designs dom-
inate. In traditional developmental science, the task in longitudinal studies is to find
meaningful associations between age changes and changes in specific outcome
behaviors or abilities of interest. Cross-sectional studies, on the other hand, aim to
discover age group differences in particular behaviors or abilities. Put rather
crudely developmental scientists aim to understand how children develop.
In contrast, public health, as a discipline, aims to prevent disease and disability.

As such, public health is interested in contextual factors that may be modifiable
during early childhood to help improve future human well-being. Thus, the interest
in the field of developmental science by public health practitioners has a different
intent compared to the pure developmental scientist. As such, in the discipline of
public health and epidemiology, longitudinal (or cohort) studies are generally
utilized to model the impact and influence of contextual factors on human devel-
opment – contextual factors being those factors outside of the body that potentially
affect or are affected by the individual and his/her growth. For example, context
clearly includes factors such as family/home environment, physical and chemical
exposures, community and social services, schools, and peer groups. Epidemiolo-
gists typically analyze the influence of risk factors on poor developmental
outcomes.
Part of the distinction can also be made by observational or experimental studies.
In pure developmental science, observational studies dominate. These are studies
where nature is allowed to take its course. The investigator measures but does not
intervene in any way. Such studies can be descriptive or analytical. In public heath
both observational and experimental studies dominate. Experimental studies
involve an active attempt to change an outcome – in our circumstance, an active
attempt to improve child development and well-being through either treatment/
intervention, change in behavior, or say exposure to a program.
A particular type of experimental longitudinal research design is the randomized
controlled trial (RCT). The RCT is the most advanced/best quality research design
and is the type of longitudinal study that provides the greatest potential to infer
causation which becomes additionally important when designing impact evaluation
studies. RCTs were traditionally designed to determine the efficacy and effective-
ness of drugs; however, they are now also used to determine the efficacy and
effectiveness of interventions. Of particular relevance to child development is the
pragmatic randomized controlled trial where an RCT is designed and implemented
in “real life” rather than in an excessively controlled set of situations. Pragmatic
trials (Zwarenstein et al. 2008) tend to have higher “generalizability”; that is, the
results are applicable to usual settings. For example, in order to evaluate a new
schedule of care delivered by child health nurses across various communities,
a pragmatic trial design would be the most appropriate. Unfortunately, in the field
of early child development, such trials are extremely rare, primarily due to expense
and the significant commitment required from service providers and funders to
randomize (hence to deny half the study subjects the intervention at least tempo-
rarily) and be prepared to wait (in some circumstances many years) for the research
findings to show impact.
Cross-sectional studies are generally used in epidemiology/public health to
determine the prevalence of disease or disability. They can be used to investigate
associations between context and development but are limited in determining
causality. Cross-sectional studies tend to be survey samples and are generally useful
to investigate or categorize common conditions; they often compare cases and
controls for the risk factors of interest and attempt to control for confounding
factors. When a cross-sectional survey is done across an entire population, then
this is called a census. Such cross-sectional surveys or censuses that are repeated
over time form a system of monitoring or surveillance. Repetition of cross-sectional
data collections enables monitoring of change or trends across communities, pop-
ulation subgroups, and populations as a whole. Monitoring and surveillance is
a fundamental role of public health.
Determining pathways and the mechanisms of causation are also important for
public health. Longitudinal studies are, however, expensive, tend to be burdensome
on the families involved, suffer from loss to follow-up, and tend to underrepresent
minority groups and those families from the tails of the socioeconomic distribution
(i.e., the wealthy and the poor). Cross-sectional surveys, although aiming to be
representative, also tend to suffer from failing to recruit families from the tails of
the socioeconomic distribution and suffer from recall bias of exposures. Unless the
researchers take a strategy of oversampling minority groups, survey results are
frequently not generalizable across populations. Census collections benefit from
being representative, enable the comparison of subpopulations, and provide the
opportunity to explore the patterns and distributions of health. Repeated over time
there is the added advantage of being able to monitor trends in health. However,
without the longitudinal aspect (i.e., following the same child/person over time), it is
not possible to determine the pathways to health/ill-health. The recognition of these
problems has led many researchers in public health to use linked population data sets.
Data linkage essentially finds connections between different pieces of informa-
tion that are thought to belong to the same person or between events that occurred at
the same place or happened at or about the same time. Consistent measures of early
child development can be linked to other measurements of health, educational, and
behavioral outcomes over the life course. It is possible to construct crosswalks
between health, early child development, and education databases that integrate
population-wide, person-specific data at national, jurisdictional, and community
levels. As such it is possible to create a historical perspective of developmental
trajectories for an entire population of children. Linking early child development
outcome data with education, health, and social service administrative databases is
key to shedding new light on the complex interplay of risk and protective factors
over the life course. The real value from linkage comes if data on child well-being
indicators are available for the total population, which provides the ability to
generalize to the whole population, allowing unbiased assessments, and makes
possible the study of subpopulations.
For those interested in data linkage, a description of how data linkage is achieved
while maintaining the privacy of individuals is explained by the following video
link: https://www.santdatalink.org.au/animation. From a research perspective, a
good summary of the comparison between longitudinal studies versus population-
based linked data systems is provided by Roos et al. (2008). Additionally, Jutte
et al. (2011) recently published a review of data linkage as a tool for public health.
The primary centers for establishing population comprehensive linked data
systems include the Oxford Record Linkage Study in England, the Scottish
Record Linkage System, Statistics Norway, the MigMed2 database in Sweden, the
Manitoba Centre for Health Policy, the Centre for Health Services and Policy
Research in British Columbia, and the Institute for Clinical and Evaluative Sciences
in Ontario. In Australia, the Western Australian (WA) experience in data linkage
commenced in the academic sector in the 1970s.
From the 1980s, the WA Maternal and Child Health Research Database
contained linked data on all births (antenatal, intrapartum, and neonatal information
on the mother and child) with hospitalizations, birth defects, and other disabilities
(from total population registers) (Stanley et al. 1997). By 2002, all health-related
data linkage was undertaken within the centralized WA Data Linkage System
(WADLS) jointly managed by the academic and public sector, with strong ethical
oversight. Since 1995 the WADLS has been able to progressively build linkages
between the state’s administrative population-wide data collections related to the
health and well-being of children, adults, and families. Over the last 10 years, this
staged development has also seen the WADLS expand to include links to national
and local health and welfare data sets, genealogical links, and spatial references for
mapping applications (Holman et al. 2008). Elsewhere we have suggested that such
data can influence the joined-up policy responses needed for child well-being, for
which this chapter is also advocating (Stanley et al. 2011).
Australia is now progressing towards national data linkage activities with state-
based “nodes” (such as the WADLS) working together under a national network
(the Population Health Research Network), which will allow researchers to access
state and across jurisdictional boundary data that is non-identified. The systems will
improve Australia’s ability to monitor health and well-being using data already
collected by social services including primarily health but also education, and
family and community services. The systems are able to identify trends in health
and development and provide the evidence to develop proactive health and welfare
policy. The Australian Population Health Research Network along with the state-
based nodes will provide the world’s most comprehensive population health data-
base to monitor and study health and well-being.
Integration from each approach (longitudinal, pragmatic randomized controlled
trials, cross-sectional, and population census monitoring added to population-wide
data linkage systems) can significantly enhance our ability to understand child
development and inform public health strategies to improve future human capital.
This understanding is further enhanced when consistent indicators are used in both
longitudinal studies and cross-sectional and/administrative data collections.
For example, data from longitudinal studies can be used to then extrapolate by
the use of forecasting models to the entire population if the same instrument is used.
If the same indicator is used over time to monitor trends or across populations,
then further comparisons and knowledge are uncovered. Linking cohort studies
and cross-sectional surveys to population-linked data where each is using the
same indicator of child well-being enables more complete follow-up and
generalizability.
Despite the knowledge of the benefits of a consistent and standardized measure,
there is currently no single internationally recognized measure of early child
development. However, the report of the United Nations’ Secretary General in late
2010 names three examples of child development/well-being indicators that are
currently rising to the fore:
In order to better monitor children’s right to develop to their full potential, an internation-
ally agreed set of core indicators needs to be established and reported upon regularly.
Several instruments have been promoted to close this information gap. They include Save
the Children’s Child Development Index and the Early Development Instrument promoted
by the World Bank. UNICEF has developed an Early Childhood Development Index to be
used as part of the multiple indicator cluster survey and other household surveys. The Early
Childhood Development Index will further enhance effective data collection to monitor the
full implementation of the Convention on the Rights of the Child, as well as any other
internationally agreed instruments, to ensure full realization of child rights in early child-
hood. (United Nations 2010, Sect. 22)
Due to the experience of the present authors, this chapter will concentrate on two
of these three indicators as examples of ways to move forward – the UNICEF
Multiple Indicator Cluster Survey (MICS) Early Child Development Module
(which includes the Early Child Development Index) and the Early Development
Index (EDI).
12.9 The MICS Early Child Development Module
In a bid to improve international comparability of child well-being, UNICEF took

the lead to fund and coordinate the development of an Early Childhood Module that
now forms part of the Multiple Indicator Cluster Household Survey (MICS). MICS
is conducted across the world and as such the results of this work now serve as one
potential for an international comparative measure for early child development.
In 2007, UNICEF commissioned a review of tests, measures, and items used to
establish the developmental status of children aged 0–6 years, with specific focus
on those instruments tested cross-culturally (Zill and Ziv 2007). This review
recommended five, equally weighted developmental domains (motor, language,
cognitive, social-emotional, and approaches to learning) to form the basis for the
module. In early 2008, a validation study of the items recommended by Zill and Ziv
was commissioned, with the goal of producing a reliable and feasible set of items to
be used in the MICS; however, the age under consideration was truncated to cover
ages 3–6 years: the preschool years.
The validation study was conducted in two countries: Jordan and the Philippines,
in close collaboration with local UNICEF offices (Janus et al. 2008b). The design of
the study involved collecting base data on approximately 900 children in each of the
two countries. The sample was evenly distributed to equally represent boys and
girls between 3 and 6 in yearly interval groups. Urban and rural regions of each
country were also represented. A subsample of the total sample was used to allow
for additional validity testing: test-retest (repeated application of the questions after
a short time interval), and inter-rater components (two parents, if possible, or parent
and preschool teacher).
A variety of data collection methods were used to assess content and concurrent
validity. Several questionnaires and parent interviews with established international
validity or validity in the studied countries were reviewed to enable addition of
items. These were later used for comparison and item reliability assessments. It was
believed that the finalized module could include a combination of parent reports
and direct observations, and therefore a number of simple gross and fine motor tasks
were added, as well as a direct, gamelike, assessment of executive functioning. All
items used in the study were translated into the appropriate languages. In the
preparatory phases of the study, initial content validity assessments with local
early childhood educators and experts were conducted. Recommended changes
and/or modifications were back translated into English for review by the project
team. The differences were discussed to consensus, and all finalized items were
incorporated into the standard MICS format.
The finalized instrumentation to be tested included the set of questions
recommended by Zill and Ziv (2007), along with the Early Development
Instrument (Janus and Offord 2007), the Strengths and Difficulties Questionnaire
(Goodman 2001), and selected questions from a questionnaire developed for the
Philippines (King, n.d.). In addition to these parental interview questions, a couple
of task-based child assessments were utilized including items like “draw a circle,”
“can you stand on one foot?” and a direct test of executive cognitive functioning
(Zelazo 2006). The sociodemographic and contextual information was collected
with items from selected modules from the standard MICS inventory.
A series of psychometric, reliability, and validity testing along with factor
analyses were applied to the collected data to detect the underlying factors and
item integrity. This series of analytical techniques successfully identified a small
number of factors that explained most of the variance observed. Each of the
resultant factors was then tested for internal consistency and the findings establish
a set of indicators for each developmental domain and within these a series of sub-
domains. A long (48-item) and a short (18-item) version covering six developmen-
tal domains – language, cognitive, physical, social, emotional, and approaches to
learning – were developed (Janus et al. 2008b). While the resulting sets of items
were validated against the direct assessment measures, it was clear that using such
assessment on a wide-scale basis in the MICS would not be feasible. Information on
the implementation challenges contributed to the writing of an associated field
guide now associated with the MICS module (Janus et al. 2008a).
The 48-item and 18-item versions were proposed to the UNICEF Early Child-
hood Development Unit and discussed with a broad group of experts, who brought
forward concerns over the length of administration and difficulty of some items,
especially in the 48-item version. The 18-item draft of the Early Child Development
Index (ECDI) was, therefore, chosen to be tested in 2009 in Mombasa, Kenya.
Following this, further revisions were undertaken with simplicity and non-
ambiguity in mind. Items which elicited the most negative feedback because of
the difficulty of underlying concept were eliminated. The number of items contrib-
uting to the ECD Index was then reduced to 10. All questions allow only for binary
responses, yes or no. The original language and cognitive domains have been
collapsed into one, now consisting of three items, and the social and emotional
domains have been collapsed into one, now consisting of three items. Two
remaining domains – physical and approaches to learning – consist of two items
each (Janus et al. 2008b).
The resulting Early Child Development Index (ECDI) is a holistic simple
indicator, within the framework of a MICS module, with adequate sensitivity to
external variables, the basic reliability and sensitivity, as well as capacity to
inform. The index is calculated for the whole set of items as well as for each
domain, indicating the percentage of children aged 3 and 4 years who are
developmentally on target in language-cognitive, physical, socio-emotional, and
approaches to learning domains, as well as overall development. The ECDI now
functions as a part of the Under-5 Child Development MICS Module, which
includes questions on breast-feeding, availability and child’s access to toys and
reading materials, participation in preschool programs, parent–child interactions,
and child being left alone. All the aspects measured in the module contribute to
a better understanding of the context of the lives of young children. As more
countries implement the MICS Early Child Development Module, a comparative
picture of developmental outcomes (children “on target”) in the context of
other variables, including maternal health, family wealth, and dwelling charac-
teristics, will emerge and assist in better understanding of the early years in the
developing countries, going beyond the statistics of survival and disease (Janus
et al. 2008b).
12.10 The Early Development Index (EDI)
Transition to school is seen as one of the best stages in a child’s life to measure their
development and well-being. Research has established that high-risk children can
be prepared for initial success at school through early childhood education, family
support, pediatric and allied health-care interventions, and child health programs.
When children come to school with the skills, competencies, and developmental
capacity to take advantage of the education system, coupled with a high quality
education system, the initial positive effects persist into adolescence and adulthood.
The Early Development Index (EDI) is a population measure of children’s
development. The index is a holistic measure covering five developmental
domains: physical health and well-being, social competence, emotional maturity,
language and cognitive skills, and communication skills and general knowledge
(Janus and Offord 2007). In general teachers complete the instrument for all
children in their class on the basis of their own observations and reflections of the
children. It is generally used across the population of children attending their first
year of full-time schooling. The purpose of the EDI is not to identify individual
children for treatment but is a population measure to provide an evidence base to
inform and evaluate both universal prevention strategies and interventions targeted
to specific geographic or population groups. As such, the EDI data is made
publically available via community maps, community profiles, and jurisdiction or
national reports, with the information intended to inform strategies that can be
applied to improve child well-being.
As mentioned in the introduction, the measurement properties of instruments are
rarely comprehensively assessed across countries and generally lack strong evi-
dence of international validity and reliability. The particular suitability of an
instrument like the EDI to measure holistic child development presents an oppor-
tunity for international organizations to build a comparative international indicator
(Janus et al. 2011). To aid the international comparability of the EDI, a set of
minimum guidelines outlining the steps to be undertaken prior to claiming that the
EDI is a valid instrument within a country has been developed by the author of the
EDI (Janus and Offord 2007). These guidelines are consistent with the International
Test Commission Guidelines for Test Adaptation (Hambleton et al. 2005) and
adhere to a universalist approach (Herdman et al. 1998), making no a priori
assumptions about comparability. In concordance with these various guidelines,
the EDI needs to be validated and tested for reliability within each country prior to
being able to compare across countries.
With its continued success, the EDI is now being adapted for use around the
world with 20 countries (both developed and undeveloped) utilizing the instrument.
The instrument’s use is being supported by governments and the World Bank,
UNICEF, and the Bernard van Leer Foundation. As each country undertakes the
adaptation process, the reliability and validity of the instrument continues to build.
With this, the research potential to investigate the complexities of child develop-
ment across cultures, populations, and societies also continues to grow. Although it
is very early days, the following graph has been compiled as an example of our
aspirations for the EDI (Fig. 12.1).
The results in this graph may well be difficult to compare. For instance, the data
have been collected in different ways. In the Philippines, Jordan, and Indonesia, the
parents were asked the questions by an interviewer (i.e., within a household
survey). In all other countries the teachers were the respondents completing the
instrument for each child in their class. In Australia the data represent an entire
population cross section (a census). In Canada the information presented is the
Canadian normative sample representative of Canada as a whole. The information
collected in Mexico is a population census across a region within the country. In
both the Philippines and Jordan, the sample was a representative survey. In all other
circumstances, the sample collection was to evaluate early childhood interventions
and cannot be considered representative. As such, although the instrument is
essentially the same, the modes of data collection and design of the study collecting
the information jeopardize the comparability. In each country, we have undertaken,
as reasonably practical within budget constraints and local capacity, the required
steps to validate the instrument to the local settings.
However, given the limitations it is still interesting to note the large differences
in results across countries and just such a graph mobilizes people to start to ask the
question about why there are such differences. No doubt some variation will be
measurement error; some will be due to lack of representative country samples.
However, given that children from the poorest communities across Indonesia
EDI results-
Preliminary Country Comparison
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Fig. 12.1 EDI results – preliminary country comparison
appear to be doing considerably better than children in Australia and Canada on

the communication skills and general knowledge domain as well as the social
competence domain begs us to ask why. What are the social and cultural aspects
that support children in these villages (a community raises a child?) versus
communities across Australia and Canada? The explanation of the differential
between language and cognitive development may be more easily explained. The
questions that comprise this domain include aspects of formal reading and writing
skills which considering the literacy levels of caregivers and access to books and
pens in some of the villages in Indonesia contrast significantly with the experi-
ences and resources of children in Australia and Canada. A question may well be
raised – but what is most important for future health and well-being, maybe in
Indonesia such skills are not as important. These are questions riddled with
culture, political correctness, and complex social and cultural, historical, and
economic interplays. Our personal views aside, it is likely that children
with good skills and development across the domains of child development
will be more likely to succeed than children who at entry to school are
already struggling.
12.11 The Australian Story with the Early Development

Index (AEDI)
The Australian Early Development Index (AEDI) is based on the Canadian Early
Development Instrument (EDI) (Janus and Offord 2007), which was developed
by the Offord Centre for Child Studies at McMaster University in Ontario.
Although the EDI was developed in Canada, Australia is the first country in the
world to measure the development of their entire population of children. After
extensive piloting from 2002–2008, in 2009, as a federal government election
commitment, the AEDI was collected for almost every child across Australia in
their first year of full-time schooling. In what was essentially a “child development
census,” information was collected for over 261,000 children representing 98 % of
the population. Nearly 16,000 teachers from 7,420 government and nongovernment
schools completed the checklist based on their knowledge and observations of the
child. The data collection occurred within a 3-month window.
Although the 2009 National AEDI data set provides the first Australia-wide
population baseline to which future data collections will be compared, the instrument
has been used in Australia since 2002 and has been the subject of various reliability
and validity studies. It should be noted that the Canadian EDI has also been the
subject of numerous validation and reliability studies. The checklist was first utilized
in Perth in 2002 (Brinkman and Blackmore 2003) and then again in 2003 (Hart et al.
2003) where the process of adaptation initially included testing its content
validity and utility as a community-level measure of early child development in
Australia. In 2004 federal government funding enabled further instrument validation
and communities from across Australia to become involved (Goldfeld et al. 2009).
From a technical point of view, Rasch analyses were conducted to confirm
adequate psychometric properties of the instrument (Andrich and Styles 2004).
From a community point of view, the use of the instrument was evaluated in
terms of its utility as a community mobilizer around early childhood (Sayers
et al. 2007).
In a separate study, the AEDI was embedded in a nested sample within the
Longitudinal Study of Australian Children (LSAC) (Sanson et al. 2002). To date
this has enabled the assessment of the AEDI’s concurrent and construct validity,
with predictive validity analyses now underway. The results indicate that the AEDI
performs as well as expected and in some cases better than individual assessment
tools that are more time-consuming and expensive to administer (Brinkman
et al. 2007).
The AEDI Indigenous Adaptation Study further developed the AEDI to ensure it
is relevant and sensitive to the needs of Australia’s Indigenous children (Silburn
et al. 2009). Additionally, the Language Background Other Than English (LBOTE)
Study reviewed the AEDI implementation process, results, and data usage for
culturally and linguistically diverse populations. These two studies have resulted
in significant improvements to the AEDI Teacher Guidelines to further explain the
intent of each question with the provision of culturally inclusive examples and
prompt to support teachers completing the checklist.
The 2009 National AEDI results were released by Prime Minister Julia Gillard
and the former Minister for Early Childhood Education, Child Care and Youth,
Kate Ellis, in December 2009. The results are available in the form of a national
report and online community maps and profiles. Highlights from the National AEDI
report (Centre for Community Child Health and Telethon Institute for Child Health
Research 2009) show that:
• The majority of children are doing well on each of the developmental domains.
• However, 23.5 % of Australian children are developmentally vulnerable on one
or more of the five domains.
• Children living in the most socioeconomically disadvantaged communities are
more likely to be developmentally vulnerable on each of the AEDI domains;
however, vulnerable children are found across the entire socioeconomic
spectrum.
• Similarly the majority of Australian Indigenous children are doing well on the
AEDI domains; however, Indigenous children show disproportionally higher
developmental vulnerability rates when compared to non-Indigenous children.
• Interestingly the figures show different patterns when reviewing the different
aspects of child development, where Indigenous children are showing extremely
good skills in terms of physical independence but significantly poorer results in
terms of language and cognitive development.
• Children who are proficient in English and speak another language at home are
less likely to be developmentally vulnerable on all the AEDI domains.
• However, children who only speak English, but are reported as not proficient in
English, are more likely to be developmentally vulnerable across all five AEDI
domains.
The AEDI results are available online via a designated website www.aedi.org.
au. To help community members understand and interpret the results, there is an
interactive results guide. This guide provides information about how to engage with
your community and helps develop plans for community action to support children
and families. The AEDI website also provides community case studies, videos,
FAQs, publications, fact sheets, and links to other relevant websites.
Colloquially, the AEDI results are referred to as a measure of how well the
community has raised their children to school age, and thus, the results are
primarily seen as an outcome indicator, although the data is also interpreted as an
indicator of future human capital. The AEDI aims to determine whether children
are starting school with the developmental capacity to take advantage of the school
learning environment. When accessing and interpreting the AEDI results, it is
important to recognize that although the data is collected through the school system
the information is always reported on the basis of a child’s suburb or geographic
area of residence and not the school location, so the AEDI results are not a reflection
of the school.
The interactive mapping platform allows users to see how a suburb/
neighborhood is going in comparison to (or relative to) neighboring suburbs across
the region. Different “data layers” are available including each of the AEDI
domains as well as socioeconomic and demographic data sourced from the
Australian Bureau of Statistics. Data legends on the side of the maps allow users to
see both the number of children vulnerable on each of the developmental domains
as well as the percentage of children vulnerable in each of the suburbs.
Along with a range of other community indicators and information, the AEDI
can be used by communities to plan and evaluate place-based initiatives for
children and families. The AEDI data acts as a community catalyst for conversa-
tions across agencies and provides communities with the opportunity to strengthen
collaborations between schools, early childhood services, and local agencies
(Sayers et al. 2007). In 2006, the Centre for Community Child Health undertook
an evaluation of how communities utilized their AEDI results. The findings showed
that the community implementation process and AEDI results facilitated the devel-
opment of community partnerships and coalitions, particularly between early child-
hood settings and schools, raised awareness of the importance of early childhood
development, assisted communities to map and understand their assets, identified
priorities for action, and provided data to support local grant applications. The
results from the evaluation also highlighted the need for local champions and strong
support from the education and health sectors to successfully implement and then
act upon the AEDI results (Sayers et al. 2007).
Governments are becoming increasingly interested in the early determinants of
children’s health, development, and well-being in order to inform changes needed
to better support children and their families (Young 2007). To make such improve-
ments across and within countries, however, requires an understanding of the
complexities of the patterns of child development across various population group-
ings to inform the mix of universal and targeted strategies. Getting this mix right
has significant service and policy ramifications.
The AEDI population data mapped across regions helps inform policy makers on
where, what, and how to scale up early child development programs. Such data
enables governments to (1) judge the resilience of communities and understand
where early child development programs are most needed; (2) monitor the state of
child development and assess change in outcomes over time, for example, identi-
fying trends in child outcomes as a result of policies and programs; and (3) anchor
developmental trajectories to identify groups of vulnerable populations which will
require additional support.
With the national Australian infrastructure development for population data
linkage (as mentioned earlier in this chapter), the linking of various administrative
data sets to the AEDI provides a potentially powerful person-specific longitudinal
total population-based data set. Such a data set significantly increases our ability to
investigate the complexities of developmental trajectories. In addition, program and
policy evaluation and economic models can also be investigated with such data sets
such as the effectiveness of preventive interventions which are traditionally hard to
quantify.
The AEDI has significant scope as an independent data source used in context
with other geographically available social and demographic information along with
local community knowledge. When the AEDI is repeated in successive cohorts, this
then enables us to monitor early child development across populations and time and
to examine trends for geographic areas. However, the investigation of risk and
protective patterns in child development is generally undertaken using individual-
level information. Further to that, the importance of examining individual-level
data is reflected by the fact that while the AEDI clearly shows a significant
socioeconomic gradient in developmental vulnerability, there are still many chil-
dren in middle-class and upper-class Australia that are developmentally vulnerable.
So although socioeconomics explains some of the variation in child development,
there is still a significant amount of variation that needs further unpacking for us to
better understand the complexities of child development (Centre for Community
Child Health and Telethon Institute for Child Health Research 2009; Lynch et al.
2010; Brinkman et al. 2012).
There are currently plans to link the AEDI to the whole infant cohort of the
Longitudinal Study of Australian Children and the Longitudinal Study of Indige-
nous Children once they reach school age. In addition, children entering the
Longitudinal Study of Youth will be consented to link back to their AEDI results
when they were in school.
There are few places in the world with the infrastructure developed to conduct
such research taking advantage of linked administrative data and longitudinal
studies; however, of those that have the capacity in Australia and Canada, all are
using (or have funded projects to use) the A/EDI. Scotland also has data linkage
facilities and is currently piloting the EDI with the aim to develop a population EDI
data set for linked research.
International collaborations with the use of standardized instruments like the
EDI provides scope for international and jurisdictional policy evaluation and
unique opportunities for investigating social and cultural factors that influence
developmental trajectories of children never before possible.
12.12 Summary
Public health researchers and policy makers should primarily be concerned with the
availability of quality data on the relationship between exposures and outcomes and
adequate evidence of the effectiveness of public health policies to improve those
outcomes (Stanley and Daube 2009). With the knowledge that child development
and well-being makes a difference to life-course health and civil participation
coupled with the knowledge that we can positively influence child development
and well-being through a variety of interventions and programs, we need to move
towards more refined and pragmatic questions that investigate the relative influence
of different types of programs – questions such as age of onset, duration and
intensity of treatment (dose), quality required, and the most effective content mix
(i.e., are language-specific programs, more holistic programs requiring
a multidisciplinary approach, or child-specific or family partnership approaches
more effective). To address such questions requires multidisciplinary partnerships
and the use of consistent measures of development. For example, if the evaluation
of an intervention in Bangladesh utilizes the EDI as its outcome measure as does the
evaluation of either the same or a different intervention in the Philippines, the
results are far more likely to be comparable than if the evaluations utilized outcome
measures that were different.
More and more governments in developing countries are coming to understand
that sound systems for monitoring and evaluation can help them improve
their performance. There are a small but growing number of governments that
have succeeded in building monitoring and evaluation systems in support of
evidence-based policy making, evidence-based management, and evidence-based
accountability. The World Bank and other international donors view this as
a priority area and stand ready to help developing countries strengthen their work
in this area (UNICEF 2008).
An emphasis on only the deficits of child development (i.e., identifying devel-
opmental delay) leads research and interventions targeted to efforts towards
children’s deficits. The measurement of well-being allows the identification and
thus the promotion of child strengths. The authors of this chapter prefer to rise
above the arguments around the merits of indicators that are deficit based or
strength based. We understand the merits of both and the need to be able to measure
both the strengths and weaknesses in children. Our argument would be that
a holistic instrument that is able to place a child on a developmental spectrum
allows us to do both. An internationally comparable measure such as the EDI or the
MICS ECDI allows for such applications. Such a measure utilized widely for both
population monitoring and longitudinal research studies will significantly enhance
the advancement of child well-being and public health.
The importance of the early environments influencing child development or
well-being, however defined, is crucial in the challenges we face to improve public
health in the twenty-first century, in all nations. Many countries still battle poverty
and its associated infectious diseases and malnutrition which contribute signifi-
cantly to unhealthy child development, child well-being, and, through these, to the
public health of the whole population. The more developed world is facing a myriad
of other “modern” negative influences on child development such as parental
mental health problems, substance abuse, domestic violence, inequalities, and
poor educational outcomes – all of which are profoundly important for public
health in those nations. And of course, as countries develop and become urbanized,
they seem to also take on these risks.
We strongly believe that a focus on improving maternal and child health, early
childhood experiences, and youth health and well-being (the parents of the next
generation) is key to improving public health globally. A healthy start to life is the
major building block for adult health and well-being and for both the present
and the next generation. The best ways to measure child well-being across and
between nations are still being trialed, but in this respect many countries are taking
a lead, including Canada and Australia along with developing nations.
Acknowledgments In recognition of Clyde Hertzman: a dear friend, inspirational colleague and

supportive mentor.
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Well-Being of Children: A Criminologic
Perspective 13
Mimi Ajzenstadt
13.1 Introduction
At first sight, it seems that the concept of “well-being of children” has rarely been
used by criminologists. However, a detailed review of theoretic insights and schools
of thought developed over the years, indicates that child well-being indeed played
an important role in criminologic discourse. The review reveals that numerous
studies conducted over the years have evaluated existing programs treating young
offenders and informing policy development. Many of these studies have aimed to
ensure the well-being of children from different perspectives. Many scholars set out
to prevent the involvement of children and youth criminal activity, mainly by
increasing and developing welfare, health, and educational programs. Others saw
the penal system as the appropriate agency able to provide care and supervision to
children and youth through interaction with law enforcement agents. At the same
time others saw state intervention and “over treatment” as harming the well-being
of children who entered the juvenile justice system.
The criminologic knowledge and practice are strongly influenced by a variety
of internal and external variables, among them are the development of new
disciplines, areas of studies, and modes of knowledge; public norms and beliefs
about the relations between the authorities and young citizens; political-economic
changes and the development of waves of moral panics, demanding that authorities
develop certain policies. This chapter follows the rise of the criminologic discourse
and practices from the end of the nineteenth century until the present, in relation to
the well-being of children, paying attention to these various circumstances.
M. Ajzenstadt
Institute of Criminology, Faculty of Law and the Baerwald School of Social Work and Social
Welfare, The Hebrew University of Jerusalem, Jerusalem, Israel

352 M. Ajzenstadt
13.1.1 The Young Offender as a Nexus of Concern About Well-Being
The discipline of criminology is a relatively new area of knowledge. Developed at

the end of the eighteen century in Europe, it was concerned mainly with the
understanding of the influence of such variables as changes in the weather on
the trends of crime. With the establishment of the empiricist paradigm, at the turn
of the twentieth century, criminologists, psychologists, and sociologists shifted their
focus and explanations toward broad internal and external circumstances leading
people to become involved in crime (see Garland 1990). Lombroso (1876) and his
followers (Lombroso-Ferrero 1911) tried to identify biological sources for crime,
others looked for psychological and sociological explanations for the involvement in
crime. A major area of research within this tradition, was the attempt to identify and
to eliminate the reasons for the involvement of children and youth in crime.
Until the end of the nineteenth century, young people involved in criminal activity
were dealt with by a system which did not differentiate between children and adults
(Junger-Tas and Decker 2006). With the rise of the new science of crime, and the
influence of the Positivist enterprise at the turn of the twentieth century, a dramatic
change in the way children were treated by criminal law took place in most countries
in the Western world. During this period, psychologists and sociologists saw young
offenders as victims of forces beyond their ability of control. While psychologists
claimed that young offenders ascend the paths to crime very early in their childhood
(see Alexander and Healy 1935; Eysenck 1964; Sheldon 1949), sociologists utilized
a wider dimension of explanations for this behavior. Broken homes, disturbed fami-
lies, inadequate schooling, unorganized and poor communities, as well as blocked
opportunities, were considered as nourishing environments in which crime and delin-
quency habituated and grew, leading youth to be involved in crime (see Cohen 1955;
Merton 1957, 1964; Shaw and McKay 1969; Sutherland 1939). In this manner,
structural circumstances such as poverty, being a new immigrant, living in slums,
and being associated with delinquent subcultures were seen as causes leading to
involuntary involvement in crime.
Two main responses were suggested and adopted in many countries across the
Western world to deal with this phenomenon, both aiming to improve the well-
being of children. The first approach mobilized governments to create programs to
prevent crime. Thus, comprehensive programs were established with an array of
goals and points of intervention. Some programs exposed children, mainly of
immigrant families and those living in poverty areas, to the hegemonic cultural
codes. Other programs aimed to provide adequate housing and schooling, to open
up opportunities in the labor market, and to introduce role models to the slums with
whom children could associate and identify.
The second response included the integration of social workers, educators,
psychologists, and other professionals into the legal system. Adopting a medical
model which interpreted delinquency as a pathology, the professionalization of the
legal response to crime aimed to provide a solution, based on expert knowledge, to the
problem of youth crime. Furthermore, the medical-penal reaction to juvenile delin-
quency was regarded as an opportunity to identify personal, familial, and societal
13 Well-Being of Children: A Criminologic Perspective 353
problems hidden from the public eye, leading children to crime. The interaction with
the law enforcement agencies was thus considered an opportunity to offer young
delinquents and their families professional care, aiming to improve their well-being in
various areas. Thus, contact by state authorities was utilized by professionals to
identify, diagnose, and treat children. In this way, juvenile delinquency was defined
as a “welfare” issue stemming from the wide problem of child neglect and personal
problems, and thus professionals took it upon themselves to identify, treat, and reform
juveniles and young delinquents in distress. The assessment of mental, physical, and
social health and the promotion of well-being of young people within the youth justice
system were integral to the delivery of effective youth justice services.
Indeed, at the turn of the twentieth century, the adoption of this approach led to
the establishment of separate juvenile courts ensuring that young offenders would
be treated rather than punished (Junger-Tas and Decker 2006). In addition,
a separate system of youth laws and regulations was enacted, replacing penal policy
with a treatment-oriented approach. The policy reflected the belief that children
who break the law are in need of guidance and help (Cullen and Agnew 2005). This
model adopted welfare principles, favoring an informal over formal approach as
a result of process procedures and allowing judges to evaluate juvenile delinquents’
special needs within a therapeutic framework. The focus of the juvenile court was
on the individual child rather than the offense and thus, there was no need for
defense counsel, who were regarded as disrupting the therapeutic process, in which
children were encouraged to speak freely about themselves and their offenses
(Bishop 2009). The criminal process and professional intervention were seen as
the duty of state institutions aiming to ensure the well-being of young citizens.
The welfare model, which strongly believed in the role of professional treatment
as the foundation for the rehabilitation of young offenders, continued to dominate
the juvenile justice system until the 1980s. It paralleled the ideology of the welfare
state which saw juvenile delinquents as weak and who needed to be cared for by the
state. This policy further reflected the belief that children who break the law are
immature and in need of guidance and help (Cullen and Agnew 2005). Core cultural
foundations developed within the sociopolitical structure of the welfare state, such
as solidarity, universality, and professionalization were adopted (Ajzenstadt and
Khory-Kassabri 2012).
13.2 Society as a Nexus of Concern for the Well-Being of the

Law-Abiding Citizen
Beginning in the 1960s and for the next 30 years, a host of criticism emerged
challenging the psychological-social welfare approach to juvenile delinquency,
paralleling some of the critiques regarding the welfare state principles. The criticisms
stem from four main interrelated sources.
First, disappointment with the inability of the welfare model to reduce juvenile
delinquency, despite the financial resources invested in numerous rehabilitation
programs. The publication of Martinson’s report, indicating that “nothing works”
354 M. Ajzenstadt
(Martinson 1974) led to calls to encourage the government to adopt a “zero

tolerance” approach and develop early and rapid intervention through the penal
system rather than through welfare agencies (Munice 2008).
Second, public perception of increased juveniles’ involvement in crime was gen-
erated by the media’s coverage of certain publicized offenses (Dorfman and Schiraldi
2001). In many countries, several waves of moral panic were created after violent acts
in which youth were involved, either as victims or perpetrators. The moral panic
usually involved the presentation of children involved in crime as a threat to public
safety (Estrada 2001; Hay 1995). Media reports blamed the lenient approach of the
welfare model and in particular the treatment-oriented approach of the juvenile court
as being too permissive and lenient, thus leading to high recidivism rates and
threatening public safety. These calls identified youth as a violent group in which its
members are prone to engagement in serious and escalated violent crimes (Levesque
1996). It was further argued that policies enacted out of consideration for offenders’
rights, such as immunity from publication of a criminal’s identity and the automatic
provision of a public defender, did not deter juveniles from committing crimes. These
claims were accompanied by calls upon the government to “get tough” on crime
involving minors. Various groups demanded to introduce and enforce harsher punish-
ment, to make juveniles responsible for their crimes, claiming that they should be
treated not as immature children, but as adults (Bishop 2009). In many countries, there
were calls to enact curfew laws and to increase the monitoring and surveillance
measures in places where young people gather.
This was nourished by campaigns for taking responsibility, requiring individuals,
including children, accountable for choices they made and to bear the consequences of
their activities (Munice 2005; Kemshall 2008). The discourse thus shifted from the
well-being of juvenile delinquents to the well-being of children who obey the rules and
can become innocent victims through the violence of undisciplined children.
Third, labeling theorists in the same category with radical lawyers, social
workers, and medical practitioners challenged the interventionist approach of the
welfare model, claiming that it leads to stigmatization and labeling, affecting
children’s future. Criticizing state over-intervention, scholars claimed that control
agents targeted mainly young members of marginalized groups (Hall et al 1978).
According to that approach, the well-being of children of minority groups was
jeopardized because they were targeted by law enforcement agencies.
Fourth, the children’s rights movement challenged the interventionist approach of
the welfare model, claiming that it ignored minors’ human rights during the criminal
procedure (Cohen 1985; Munice 2005). Legal rights advocates criticized the parens
patriae principle adopted by the juvenile court and the broad authority that the
juvenile justice system had over children. Responding to the Re Gault case in 1967
in which a juvenile was sent to a state institution without notifying his or her parents,
concern was raised for the lack of due process protection which violated children’s
rights in the juvenile justice system (Levesque 1996). Advocates of children’s rights
believed that juvenile delinquents’ rights should be strictly protected and insisted that
policies dealing with juvenile delinquents should reflect the United Nations Conven-
tion on the Right of the Child principles with respect to the “best interest of the child.”
They were key players in the processes leading to the creation of new regulations
regarding juvenile sentencing as well as in the administration of juvenile justice. In
this way, the well-being of children in general, and of juvenile delinquents in
particular, was once again reinterpreted and linked to the protection of their rights.
The reframing of well-being led legal advocates to claim that juvenile delinquency
was caused by the abuse of basic rights, such as the rights for access to education,
housing, and care (Ajzenstadt and Khoury-Kassabri 2012).
In many Western states, this rights approach was integrated into the neoliberal
notion of taking responsibility, seeing children and their family as responsible for their
actions (Kemshall 2008; Such and Walker 2005). This shifted the responsibility for
juvenile welfare from the state to the offenders, legitimizing limited state involvement
in the provision of solutions for children, which led to the adulteration of the youth
justice system (Hogeveen 2006). This led to the reduction of welfare programs and the
introduction of harsher penalties for juvenile delinquents who were required to “pay”
for what was seen as their decision to be involved in crime (Such and Walker 2005).
Finally, during the end of the twentieth century, as a result of global economic
processes, many western countries had witnessed major cuts in their welfare services,
leading to the reduction of resources allocated to welfare services dealing with
juvenile delinquency, among others (Bishop 2009). Thus, probation and corrections
programs were chronically understaffed, and their personnel were poorly paid and
poorly trained. Additionally, many treatment and rehabilitation programs were termi-
nated, leaving room for penal responses to juvenile delinquency.
As a result of all these ideas and the presentation of a punitive response to offenses
by youth as the panacea to the problem of spiraling youth crime rates, juvenile justice
policies established toward the end of the 1980s moved the juvenile justice model
toward a punitive model. Within this process, the welfare model diminished and in turn,
a new youth crime control culture that translated into penal and surveillance techniques
and strategies for dealing with youth crime were created. The governments of the
United States, the United Kingdom, and Canada promised to protect the public, among
them law-abiding citizens and children, by responding harshly to serious and violent
offenses committed by youth through the enactment of punitive legislation. This penal
response was linked to the processes of incarceration and incapacitation. Juvenile
behaviors were criminalized, and more juvenile offenders were brought under the
jurisdiction of the criminal court by the introduction of curfews and intense supervision
(Cohen 1985; Fagan 1990). Other policies made it easier to transfer serious juvenile
offenders to the adult court (Bishop 2009). While under the penal regime, juvenile
offenders were awarded due process protection, ironically, the new procedures initially
aiming to ensure children’s rights resulted in the reduction of informal resolution
processes, allowing more punitive and retributive sanctions (Feld 1993).
The processes took place in the wider context of the development of the
neo-conservatism thread within the New-Right ideology. The moral agenda of
this epoch advocated a retreat from the universalized coverage of at-risk groups,
and the adoption of marketplace rationality as the means for the provision
of services (Stoesz 1981). The neoconservative ethos of coercion and punishment
linked directly to the disbelief of the neoliberal governance in state protection
356 M. Ajzenstadt
and rehabilitation (Rose 1996). Furthermore, the introduction of the new public
managing and its drive for effectiveness and economy produced risk-management
strategies, led to the development of a series of cost-effective policies
and practices whose concern is not individual reform, but efficacy (Clarke and
Newman 1997).
The political ideology of neoliberalism demands a retreat from the belief that
governments should provide social goods, leaving the provision of goods and services
to free individuals and to the enterprise of the market (O’Connor and Robinson 2008;
Osborne and Gaebler 1992). Adopting a rational economy philosophy, neoliberal
governance aims to promote individual autonomy, responsibility, and freedom,
assuming a rational individual to be free to choose among various alternatives
(O’Malley 1999). The ethos of this ideology promotes individual responsibility and
interprets failure as proof of an individual’s weakness (Goldson and Jamieson 2002).
In the area of juvenile justice, these ideologies decontextualized involvement in crime
from the wider social context and associated it, instead, with individual willful
irresponsibility, incorrigibility, and family failure (Munice 2006).
Following neoliberal ideas, juvenile justice policies developed risk management
strategies for calculating risk and the probability of repeat offending (Kempf-Leonard
and Peterson 2000). Those ideologies were a fruitful ground for the growth of
the response to crime, characterized, among other things, by the ethos of taking
responsibility and individualization, which shifted state responsibility for juvenile
delinquency to individual children and their families (Kemshall 2008; Such and
Walker 2005).
As part of this approach, emphasis was shifted from the responsibility of the state
to juvenile delinquency toward the accountability of children, their families, and
sometimes communities for this behavior (Such and Walker 2005). Moreover, these
changes, which preferred penal interventions through the criminal system rather
than welfare measures, shifted the focus from the individual child to the offense
(Goldson and Hughes 2010).
A review of current juvenile justice systems and the discourses supporting and
legitimizing their operation reveals a complex set of attitudes toward juvenile
delinquents. The punitive turn influenced the development of penalized juvenile
justice in England, Wales, and most of the Anglophone liberal welfare systems
(Munice 2008). In Italy and the Scandinavian countries, on the contrary, the youth
justice model advocated penal tolerance, child-centeredness, and compliance with
progressive human rights (Goldson and Hughes 2010). Even in countries with
punitive approaches to juvenile justice, there are contradictory or conflicting
models. In the United States, for example, while policies of “cracking down on”
or “getting tough with” offenders prevail, treatment programs directed toward
prevention and intervention among youth at risk for delinquency were initiated.
England and Wales introduced restorative interventions into the youth justice
system to avoid youth entry into the juvenile justice system (Graham and Moore
2006). Similarly in Canada, intervention programs keeping young people in the
community were created (Bala and Roberts 2006). Indeed, in many countries,
welfare principles did not diminish; nor were they marginalized by those operating
the juvenile justice system (Field 2007). Rather, they reentered the juvenile justice
system through various paths with justice rationales and practices.
Although up until the 1980s most welfare services dealing with juvenile
delinquency were administrated through state institutions with the decline of the
state as the provider of these services, a growing number of private and public civil
society organizations began to be involved in the identification of criminality,
prevention, and the treatment of youth at risk and juvenile delinquents. Many
of these organizations target specific groups such as new immigrants and members
of marginalized groups, aiming to provide them with services which fit
their specific needs. In this way, new agents dealing with juvenile delinquency
currently play an important role in various preventive, assessment, and treatment
programs, offering such services as the operation of lodgings for juvenile delin-
quents, treatment of juvenile sexual offenders, and offering family conferencing
interventions.
Non-governmental organization (NGO) operation of these programs has made it
possible to partially overcome the shortage of manpower created by financial cuts.
In addition, as a result of their flexible and dynamic nature, NGOs are able to offer
new programs, focusing on specific groups of population for whom certain services
were not previously accessible. At the same time, these organizations are not
operated by the state which raises questions regarding their ability and desire to
develop long-term programs within a short-range working environment that
depends on “soft money.” It also raises concerns about the ways in which profit
and economic considerations become linked to their activities (Almog-Bar and
Ajzenstadt 2010). Munice (2005) argued that NGOs and private organizations serve
the state mode of “governing at a distance” (Rose and Miller 1992), as services are
delivered indirectly by non-state agencies (Ajzenstadt and Rosenhek 2000). How-
ever, in practice, in many countries the intervention of NGOs in the area of juvenile
justice does not completely relieve the state of its responsibility for youth in conflict
with the law. Most programs are directly financed by the state and are supervised or
coordinated by state agents.
Recently, a wave of criticism has emerged, challenging the new dominant justice
model. Empirical studies examining outcomes of moving of children to adult courts
indicated that recidivism rates among juveniles dealt with by juvenile courts are
lower than those of juveniles tried in the adult criminal court (Bishop 2009; Fagan
1990). Furthermore, the new laws targeting juvenile delinquency were found
ineffective in preventing youth crime (Lanza-Kaduce et al. 2002). Additionally it
was claimed that a cost-benefit analysis showed that the punitive model was not
more effective than rehabilitative efforts (Graham and Moore 2006; Bala and
Roberts 2006). A host of new works emerged pointing to the success of tailor-
made programs targeting specific groups of juvenile delinquents, dealing with their
special needs (Lipsey and Wilson 1998; Visher and Weisburd 1998). Thus, new
programs were established targeting specific populations through attempts to iden-
tify the particular needs of specific groups of juvenile delinquents and children at
risk, and to find ways to deal with their circumstances leading them to the involve-
ment in crime. Finally, new programs are being developed to prevent and treat the
358 M. Ajzenstadt
involvement of specific groups in specific crimes such as young girls at risk

(Chamberlain et al 2007), sexual offenders (Kenny et al 2001), and youth involved
in bullying in schools (Olweus 1993) and on the web (Campbell 2005).
13.3 Conclusion
As was revealed in this review, mixtures of welfare and punishment models support
the societal reaction to juvenile delinquency. The different systems are being
molded differently in various countries, producing an array of diverse rationale
policies and practices, responding to the involvement of young children in crime.
These responses involve differing attitudes and assumptions regarding the well-
being of children. Five main issues dominate the discourse of criminology, relating
to the well-being of children:
1. The target population. As early as the first decades of the twentieth century, the
discourse stretched between two poles: a concern for the well-being of children
defined as being at risk for involvement in crime, and a concern for the well-
being of children committing crime. Recently, this treatment-prevention frame-
work was expanded to include new groups of children and youth. Female
offenders and girls at risk, children of prisoners, children of refugees on the
one hand; and children who commit specific crimes, such as sex offenses or
bullying on the other hand are examples for inclusion. Finally, the discourse
focuses its concern on the well-being of children and youth who are not involved
in crime, but are victimized by youth crime. The discourse moved from
supporting protecting innocent children who could be tempted by their friends
to use illicit drugs, to the protection of children from becoming victims to abuse
at home to violent behavior, and recently to children who are being victimized
by cyber attacks by other children. From the 1970s, the discourse includes
a concern for children whose rights are violated during the criminal justice
procedure.
2. The solutions. The discourse includes a variety of methods which are considered
to be efficient in securing the well-being of young offenders. These methods
include the administration of treatment programs, calls to stop over-intervention
by state authorities to policies adopting legal measures to protect the rights of
children entering the criminal justice system. It is important to note that during
the 1920s, most preventive programs were directed toward children who were
members of communities, defined as involved in criminal activity such as new
immigrants and residents of slums. At the turn of the twenty-first century,
preventive programs began being based on a calculation of factors relating to
the individual, family, and community, and proven to be associated with
involvement in crime.
3. Agents. Until the 1980s, professional groups of social workers, medical practi-
tioners, and educators, mainly employed by the authorities, treated young
offenders and provided preventive programs for them. From the 1980s, new
groups began being involved in the care for the well-being of young offenders,
among them lawyers and various groups working in NGOs. Additionally, in

some countries the police, juvenile prisons, and other law enforcement agents
became involved in the prevention of crime as well as the rehabilitation of
juvenile delinquents.
4. Responsibility: assumptions regarding the responsibility for caring and
responding to the involvement of children in delinquency are constantly chang-
ing, moving between the responsibility of the state, including the educational,
health, legal and welfare systems to the responsibility of young offenders and
their families.
5. Ideology – changes in the previous issues regarding the well-being relating to
juvenile delinquency are strongly linked to transformations of the political
economy framework and ideology. Ideas derived from the ideology of the
welfare state saw the state as being responsible for caring for young offenders,
ensuring their well-being, as part of the solidarity of the citizens to the weak
groups. The neoliberal ideology, employing concepts of individualism and
taking responsibility shifted the responsibility to the individual child, his or
her family, and community.
In conclusion, the well-being of children is a dynamic concept which cannot
be detached from wider ideologic, social, and professional developments and
changes.
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Economics of Child Well-Being
14
Gabriella Conti and James J. Heckman
14.1 Introduction
There is a growing interest in the well-being of children. Such interest is supported

by recent evidence from both the biological and the social sciences, which points to
the importance of the early years in shaping the capabilities that promote well-being
across the life course (Knudsen et al. 2006). It is now recognized that human
development is a dynamic process that starts in the womb. Capabilities interact
synergistically to create who we are and what we become. The foundations for adult
success and failure are laid down early in life. Children raised in disadvantaged
environments start behind and usually stay behind throughout their lifetimes. Gaps
in cognitive and behavioral traits emerge very early. The risk of disease increases
more rapidly with age in disadvantaged populations. Inequality among families in
This research was supported in part by the American Bar Foundation, the Children’s Initiative,
a Project of the Pritzker Family Foundation, the Buffett Early Chilhood Fund, NICHD
R37HD065072, R01HD54702, a grant to the Human Capital and Economic Opportunity Global
Working Group, an initiative of the Becker Friedman Institute for Research in Economics funded
by the Institute for New Economic Thinking (INET), and an anonymous funder. We acknowledge
the support of a European Research Council grant hosted by University College Dublin,
DEVHEALTH 269874. The views expressed in this paper are those of the authors and not
necessarily those of the funders or persons named here. We thank Zidi Chen for excellent research
assistance and Pietro Biroli for help with the ALSPAC data.
G. Conti (*)
Harris School of Public Policy Studies, University of Chicago, Chicago, IL, USA
J.J. Heckman
Department of Economics, University of Chicago, Chicago, IL, USA
University College Dublin, Dublin, Ireland
American Bar Foundation, Chicago, IL, USA

364 G. Conti and J.J. Heckman
early childhood environments is a major producer of inequality in the capabilities

that promote successful functioning in society. In the absence of interventions to
alter their trajectories, children growing up in disadvantage are at increasing risk –
both socioeconomic and biological. These observations are highly relevant in light
of the evidence that families are under stress. By many measures, the early-life
environments of a large swathe of children have declined in recent decades
(McLanahan 2004; Heckman 2008).
Prevention is more cost-effective than remediation. As implemented, most
adolescent and adult remediation programs are ineffective (see Cunha et al. 2006)
and have much lower returns than early childhood programs that prevent problems
before they occur. The message of this chapter is that high-quality early interven-
tions that alter early-life conditions are effective ways to promote well-being and
human flourishing across the life cycle.
Key to this analysis is a concept of child well-being recently developed in
economics (Cunha and Heckman 2007; Heckman 2007). It envisions a core set of
capabilities as capacities to function, including cognition, personality, and biology.
This approach views the child in her entirety as a human being in fieri – as a work in
progress. This notion is embedded in a life-cycle framework of human development
that distinguishes the determinants of child well-being that can be manipulated
by policy, from the measurements that proxy the underlying traits that generate
outcomes, and the outcomes themselves. In order to develop effective policies, it
is important to understand the various aspects of child well-being and their causes
and consequences. We need to understand the capabilities and mechanisms that
produce success across multiple dimensions of human activity, including crime,
earnings, physical and mental health, and education. Linking the capabilities
acquired in the early years to a variety of adult outcomes and understanding
the channels through which early-life conditions affect them enhance our under-
standing of human development. A strategy of early prevention – rather than adult
and adolescent remediation – promotes well-being from childhood into advanced
old age.
This chapter is structured along the following lines. Section 14.2 discusses the
indicators used for measuring child well-being in international studies. We review
the early work on the economic approach to child well-being in Sect. 14.3. We
present the recent developmental approach in Sect. 14.4. Recent empirical findings
are summarized in Sect. 14.5. Section 14.6 presents evidence from interventions
that promote child well-being. Section 14.7 concludes and offers some suggestions
for future research.
14.2 What is Child Well-Being?
While the notion of well-being has been promoted by the World Health Organiza-
tion since 1948, there is still little consensus as to how it should be measured
(“Health is a state of complete physical, mental, and social well-being and not
merely the absence of disease or infirmity.” WHO, Preamble to the Constitution of
14 Economics of Child Well-Being 365
the World Health Organization as adopted by the International Health Conference,

New York, June 19–22 1946 and entered into force on April 7 1948). This is partly
because research has tended to divide into two different interpretations of what is
meant by well-being (Ryan and Deci 2001a). The hedonic viewpoint (Kahneman
et al. 1999) focuses on subjective well-being or happiness and is usually defined in
terms of avoidance of pain and attainment of pleasure. The eudaimonic viewpoint,
instead, focuses on psychological well-being, defined more broadly to incorporate
dynamic processes such as self-realization and the degree to which a person is fully
functioning in society (Ryff and Singer 1998). The latter is the approach adopted in
the recent literature in economics (Sen 1999; Cunha and Heckman 2007, 2008,
2009) and the point of view of this chapter.
Recent years have witnessed a steady increase in the efforts to measure and
monitor the status of children [See Ben-Arieh (2008) for a summary of the history
and development of the field]. The trend has been to move away from an exclusive
focus on composite indices of poverty or deprivation toward indicators
encompassing multiple dimensions of child well-being. However, as noted in
Ben-Arieh and Frones (2011), despite the development of numerous “indicators”
of child well-being, the field is fragmented and lacks a unifying taxonomy. We
present as examples two indicators of child well-being used at the international
level and discuss their structure and economic content. We refer the interested
reader to the survey by Fernandes et al. (2011) for a review and comparison of four
distinct approaches to measuring child well-being – those by Land et al. (2007), by
Bradshaw and Richardson (2009), by Moore et al. (2013), and Bastos and Machado.
UNICEF (2007) considers six different dimensions of child well-being (each
dimension can have multiple components and each component multiple indicators.
Before the 2007 report, income poverty was used as a proxy measure for overall
child well-being):
1. Material well-being: % of children living in relative income poverty, in house-
holds without jobs, and in reported deprivation (in terms of low family affluence,
few educational resources, and fewer than ten books at home).
2. Health and safety: health at age 0–1 (mortality and low birth weight), preventa-
tive health services (immunizations against measles, DPT, and polio), and safety
(deaths from accidents and injuries).
3. Educational well-being: school achievement at age 15 (average achievement in
reading, mathematical, and science literacy), beyond basics (% of those age 15–19
staying in education), and transition to employment (% of those age 15–19 not in
education, employment, or training or expecting to find low-skilled work).
4. Family and peer relationship: family structure (% of children living in single-
parent families or stepfamilies), family relationships (% of children reporting
eating the main meal with parents more than once per week, % of children
reporting parents spend time “just talking” to them), and peer relationships (% of
children reporting their peers to be “kind and helpful”).
5. Behaviors and risks: health behaviors (% of children who eat breakfast/fruit daily and
are physically active or overweight), risk behaviors (% of children who smoke/have
been drunk more than twice/use cannabis/have sex by 15/use condoms and teenage
fertility rate), and experience of violence (% of children involved in fighting in last

12 months and reporting being bullied).
6. Subjective well-being: health (% of children rating their health no more than
“fair” or “poor”), school life (% of children “liking school a lot”), and personal
well-being (% of children rating themselves above the midpoint of a “Life
Satisfaction Scale” and % of children reporting negatively about personal
well-being. Young children are asked to agree or disagree with three statements
about themselves: “I feel like an outsider or left out of things,” “I feel awkward
and out of place,” and “I feel lonely”).
In a study based on data from 23 rich countries, this index was shown to be
negatively correlated with income inequality and the proportion of children in
relative poverty (Pickett and Wilkinson 2007).
These indicators cover a wide array of aspects related to child development. Yet
they are unsatisfactory in at least two respects. First, no clear distinction is made
among proxies of underlying well-being (e.g., self-reported health, birth weight),
inputs amenable to interventions (e.g., parenting time and quality), and outcomes
(e.g., education and health behaviors), which are a function of both previous
components. Second, no temporal, developmental distinction is made. Components
of these indices related to different stages of childhood are lumped together,
without any regard to the timing of measurements and investments, and with little
importance given to the prenatal period and the early years.
These serious shortcomings are being addressed in indices currently being
developed. For example, the Index currently being developed by UNESCO, the
Holistic Early Childhood Development Index (HECDI), scheduled to be delivered
in 2013, will cover child development from antenatal life to 8 years of age. The fact
that these indicators have scope for improvement is noticed in the UNICEF report:
No single dimension of well-being stands as a reliable proxy for child well-being as a whole
and several OECD countries find themselves with widely differing rankings for different
dimensions of child well-being (p. 3). (The United Kingdom and the United States find
themselves in the bottom third of the rankings for five of the six dimensions reviewed.
European countries dominate the top half of the overall league table, with Northern
European countries claiming the top four places).
The framework presented in Sect. 14.4 places each of the components used to
define the UNICEF indicators in a life-cycle developmental perspective. This
framework clearly distinguishes which indicators measure which aspects of
human development and flourishing, what factors are amenable to policy interven-
tion, which are the mechanisms producing capabilities, and how to evaluate differ-
ent policies to promote child well-being.
Child well-being is also high on the policy agenda of the OECD (2009), which
has also produced a framework including outcome indicators with the following six
dimensions:
1. Material well-being: average disposable income, children in poor homes, and
educational deprivation.
2. Housing and environment: overcrowding and poor environmental conditions.
3. Educational well-being: average mean literacy score, literacy inequality, and

youth NEET (not in education, employment, or training) rates.
4. Health and safety: infant mortality, low birth weight, breastfeeding rates, vacci-
nation rates, physical activity, and suicide rates.
5. Risk behaviors: smoking, drunkenness, and teenage births.
6. Quality of school life: bullying and school enjoyment.
Neither set of indices distinguishes among indicators, inputs, and outcomes,
a common problem. The OECD indicators do not include either subjective well-
being or the child’s relationship with parents. Additionally, measures of early
cognitive development and mental health are not included (One exception to this
is the case of Australia, where, based on research and consultation, the Strengths
and Difficulties Questionnaire (SDQ) was strongly supported as the most appro-
priate tool for measuring social and emotional well-being in children. It has been
recommended that a Children’s Headline Indicator for social and emotional well-
being be defined as the proportion of children scoring “of concern” on the Strengths
and Difficulties Questionnaire, since this instrument has been extensively validated
and is widely used).
Indices of child well-being have also been developed by individual countries. For
the United States, a comprehensive composite state-level index of child well-being is
the Foundation for Child Development’s (FCD) Child Well-Being Index (CWI)
(O’Hare et al. 2012), which is updated annually and describes how young people in
the United States have fared since 1975. It is the nation’s most comprehensive
measure of trends in the quality of life of children and youth. It combines national
data from 28 indicators across seven domains (family economic well-being, health,
safe/risky behavior, educational attainment, community engagement, social relation-
ships, emotional/spiritual well-being) into a single index that reflects overall child
well-being. The index is used to inform policymakers and the public on how well
children are doing. It was created to provide a broader measure of children’s quality
of life not captured by GDP, which only measures income. In the United Kingdom,
the National Statistician recently convened a Well-being Forum (Office for National
Statistics 2011); the respondents to the public consultation identified the well-being
of the children as an area of particular concern. Subsequently, the Office for National
Statistics formed a working group to develop and assess measurement of well-being
for this age group (Beaumont 2011). They concluded that satisfactory indices must
measure children’s well-being as a multifaceted concept which considers the many
areas that affect their well-being at different ages. In the first year of work, the ONS
launched a consultation on a first set of domains and measures of national well-being.
An updated list has just been published (ONS 2012) and currently includes a list of
ten domains: individual well-being, our relationships, health, what we do, where we
live, personal finance, education and skills, the economy, governance, and the natural
environment), each of them comprising between three and five measures (for exam-
ple, the health domain includes four measures: healthy life expectancy at birth;
percentage who report a long-term illness and a disability; percentage who were
somewhat, mostly or completely satisfied with their health; and percentage with
probable psychological disturbance or ill mental health).
14.3 Child Well-Being in the Early Literature of Economics
Theoretical Literature on Child Well-Being. While improving child well-being is

an important social goal, past theoretical literature in economics has largely focused
on the human capital of the child. This is usually related to its earnings potential.
The basic idea is that a household maximizes its utility, which has a measure of
child quality as one of its inputs. This concept of quality encompasses the various
skills that the child develops under the care and investment of its parents – skills
which later contribute to its adult socioeconomic success.
A pioneering study of the role of the family in shaping child outcomes is
Leibowitz (1974). The author notes that by the time children enter first grade,
there are significant differences among them in terms of verbal and mathematical
competence, which reflect variations in both inherent ability and the amount of
human capital acquired before school entry. These stocks of acquired human capital
reflect, in turn, different inputs, in terms of both time and other resources, by
parents, teachers, siblings, and the child herself. The author compares the process
of acquiring preschool human capital to the acquisition of human capital through
schooling or on-the-job training. She applies a version of the Ben-Porath (1967)
model of human capital accumulation, a model of on-the-job investment in human
capital, to explain investment in children. In her empirical analysis, she uses the
endowments of the mother as proxies for parental investment in children. The
model does not consider life-cycle dynamics of the child.
The paper by Becker and Tomes (1986) is a seminal contribution in the eco-
nomics literature. The authors develop a one-period-of-childhood model of the
transmission of economic status from parents to children. They identify the forces
that determine intergenerational income mobility and offer explanations for the
channels of intergenerational transmission of status. Their model assumes that the
parents maximize their own utility and are concerned about their own consumption
and the adult utility of their children. They feature parental altruism toward the
child under different assumptions about the ability of parents to borrow against the
child’s future income. As part of their analysis, they consider parental investment in
child skills.
Since theirs is a one-period model of childhood, they do not make an early-late
childhood distinction that is a crucial feature of recent research on child develop-
ment reviewed in Sect. 14.4. Additionally, they assume unidimensionality of child
skills, corresponding to “general human capital,” and do not distinguish among the
different components of child well-being (e.g., cognition, personality, health). They
also assume that the initial endowments of the child are not affected by parental
investments. While including the adult utility of the child as an input into parental
utility sounds like directly modeling the child’s well-being, they ignore the well-
being of the child as a child. The only way that a parent can increase the utility
derived from that of a child is to invest in her human capital (which directly
increases her adult earnings) or to leave bequests. Thus, the focus in this research
is on increasing adult earnings and adult wealth.
Each generation of children inherits biological and cultural endowments from

their parents. However, the heritability of these endowments is less than perfect.
This implies that endowments regress to the mean. Children with well-endowed
parents tend to have above-average endowments but, on average, less than those of
the parents, whereas children with poorly endowed parents tend to have below-
average endowments that on average are larger relative to their parents’ levels.
Parents not only pass on their endowments but also influence the adult earnings of
their children via investments in human capital. As a result, adult human capital and
earnings are determined by endowments, parental investments, and bequests, as
well as by public expenditures.
The authors analyze the two cases of “perfect” and “imperfect” capital markets.
In the analysis of perfect capital markets, parents can borrow against the future
income of the child to finance investments in children. These debts are allowed to
become the obligations of children when they become adults. Parents borrow to
finance expenditures on their children’s human capital up to a point where the rate
of return to human capital (the annual yield on investment) equals the market
interest rate. An important implication of the model with perfect credit markets is
that, for a given inherited ability level, the child’s level of human capital and labor
earnings would be independent of their parents’ asset and earnings because poor
parents can always borrow against their child’s earnings to finance investment
expenditures. Rich parents leave more bequests. Hence, for the same level of
ability, the income of children from wealthier families will be higher solely because
of these bequests. In the case of imperfect capital markets, parents cannot borrow
against the future earnings of the child. Instead, they have to reduce their personal
consumptions to finance private expenditures on children. In imperfect capital
markets, parental investments in children and consumptions are reduced if borrow-
ing constraints are binding. This reduces the earnings of poor children when they
are adults, so their adult incomes are lower for two reasons: (a) lower bequests and
(b) lower human capital.
Empirical Literature on Child Well-Being. Consistent with the terminology used
in the theoretical literature, there are very few studies which explicitly mention
child well-being as their object of investigation in the empirical literature in
economics. [On the other hand, there is an expanding economic literature on
subjective well-being in adults; see, e.g., Dolan et al. (2011)]. When this is the
case, the focus of this work is usually on the effect of welfare policies (Grogger and
Karoly 2007) and income and family structure (Evenhouse and Reilly 2004). We
defer discussion of the empirical evidence to Sect. 14.5. Here, we refer the reader to
recent surveys which provide comprehensive reviews of the economic evidence on
different aspects of child well-being: parental investments and child development
(Cunha et al. 2006); parental socioeconomic status, child health, and adult success
(Currie 2009); family background and intergenerational transmission (Bjorklund
and Salvanes 2011); and early-life conditions (Almond and Currie 2010).
Availability of Data. We next consider the availability of data to study child
well-being and its long-term consequences. US-based research is hampered by the
fact that few datasets contain extensive longitudinal information on all parts of the
life cycle. As a rule, many US data sources cover the late part of the life cycle and
collect retrospective information on early childhood circumstances, as in the case of
the MIDUS (Midlife in the United States), PSID (Panel Study of Income
Dynamics), and WLS (Wisconsin Longitudinal Study). Some cover the transition
from late childhood/adolescence to adulthood (again, with some retrospective
information), as in the case of the National Longitudinal Study of Adolescent
Health (AddHealth) and of the two National Longitudinal Surveys of Youth
(NLSY79 and NLSY97). Others cover a substantial portion of the childhood, but
with no later-life follow-up: the Child Development Supplement of the Panel Study
of Income Dynamics (CDS-PSID), the Children of the National Longitudinal
Survey of Youth 1979 (CNLSY79), the two Early Childhood Longitudinal Studies –
Birth Cohort (ECLS-B) and Kindergarten Cohort (ECLS-K) – the Study of Early
Child Care and Youth Development (NICHD-SECCYD) and the Fragile Families
and Child Wellbeing Study. In the United Kingdom, life course research has a long
tradition. Several cohort studies have been started in the past 50 years: in 1946 (the
National Survey of Health and Development), in 1958 (the National Child Devel-
opment Study), in 1970 (the British Cohort Study), and in 2000 (the Millennium
Cohort Study). Another valuable resource available to researchers is the ALSPAC
(Avon Longitudinal Study of Parents and Children), a cohort study of children born
in the former county of Avon (England) during 1991 and 1992.
14.4 Conceptualizing Child Well-Being and Its Development

Within an Integrated Developmental Framework
This section presents the developmental approach to child well-being. It reviews the
work in Cunha and Heckman (2007) and Heckman (2007) and extensions. This
approach is distinct from both the traditional approach in economics, which focuses
on specific aspects of child well-being, and from the various interdisciplinary
attempts to construct summary measures, which lack any underlying theory and
so do not distinguish between observable indicators of child well-being and the
determinants that causally affect it (e.g., household income or the quality of
parenting) – and which can be changed by policy.
As compared to the previous literature, this approach has several features:
1. It is guided by an integrated theoretical framework – a life-cycle approach to
the origins and development of the capabilities that promote well-being across
the life cycle – that allows focus on specific stages and intergenerational
transmission mechanisms.
2. It clearly distinguishes indicators (measurements) of child well-being from their
causes/determinants (inputs) and consequences/outcomes (output), hence pro-
viding guidance for policy.
3. It inherently deals with the complexity of the issue at hand, by allowing for child
well-being to be multidimensional (composed of capabilities of different
nature).
4. It facilitates investigation of the mechanisms through which child well-being

shapes adult outcomes, the possibilities of remediation for adverse early-life
experiences, the extent to which intervening factors can alter life course trajec-
tories, and the timing when they operate.
The last point is particularly important. Understanding the multiple channels of
influence in promoting human capabilities allows analysts and governments to
compare and prioritize alternative policies over the life cycle.
Before describing the framework, we present some evidence that gaps in
child capabilities by family environments emerge very early. Figure 14.1 shows
the proportion of children born with low birth weight (weight at birth less
than 2,500 g) in two British cohorts born in 1958 (National Child Development
Study, NCDS) and in 1970 (British Cohort Study, BCS), respectively.
For both cohorts and genders, we observe a clear SES/health gradient, where
children born in more disadvantaged households have almost twice the chance of
being born with a low birth weight as compared to those born in more affluent
families. While inequality in family environments is already present at birth, it
becomes amplified throughout childhood. Children born in disadvantaged families
not only start off in worse initial conditions but also receive less investment from
the early years of their lives. Evidence on this latter point is presented in Fig. 14.2,
where we see that, at age 5, children raised in families of low SES are read to on
average two days less per week than children born in more advantaged
environments.
Given these mechanisms, in the absence of interventions, inequalities present at
birth can get under the skin and affect the biology of the child, propagate throughout
childhood, and persist into adulthood. In Fig. 14.3, we see evidence of a gradient in
C-reactive protein (an inflammatory marker associated with a variety of cardiovas-
cular risk factors) at age 44, by social class at birth, which mimics the gradient in
low birth weight seen in Fig. 14.1.
Such complex evidence needs to be conceptualized and interpreted within
a life-cycle framework linking early-life conditions to late-life outcomes by
accounting for intervening mechanisms and a variety of exposures at different
levels.
The framework proposed in this chapter is based on Cunha and Heckman
(2007, 2008, 2009), Cunha, Heckman, and Schennach (2010), and Heckman
(2007), who build a model of human development with four main ingredients: (a) a
measurement framework showing how capabilities causally affect a variety of child
and adult outcomes; (b) a dynamic framework (the “technology of capability forma-
tion”) characterizing how environments and investments joined with stocks of capa-
bilities affect the evolution of capabilities; (c) the preferences of the parents which
help shape the investments in skills; and (d) the constraints that the families face,
reflecting both access to credit markets and the availability of time. In the following
we focus on the first two aspects, since parental preferences are not yet well under-
stood (see, however, Del Boca, Flinn, and Wiswall 2011), and the strength of the other
constraints depends on the level of development of the institutions in a particular
society.
Males – NCDS Females – NCDS

.1 .1
.08 .08
Proportion of low birthweight

.06 .06
.04 .04
.02 .02
0 0
I II IIINM IIIM IV V I II IIINM IIIM IV V
Social Class Social Class
Males – BCS Females – BCS

.15 .15
.1 .1
.05 .05
0 0
Fig. 14.1 Low birth weight by gender and social class (Source: Own calculations based on NCDS
and BCS data). Note: The labels to the bars refer to the social class at birth of the mother’s husband for
the NCDS and of the father for the BCS. Both these data use the Registrar General’s Classification of
Social Class (SC): Social Class I (I) includes professional occupations, Social Class II (II) includes
managerial and technical occupations, Social Class IIINM (IIINM) includes skilled nonmanual
occupations, Social Class IIIM (IIIM) includes skilled manual occupations, Social Class IV (IV)
includes partly skilled occupations, and Social Class V (V) includes unskilled occupations
Females – BCS Males – BCS
5 5
4 4
Mean number of days
Mean number of days

3 3
2 2
1 1
0 0
SCI&II SCIII SCIV&V SCI&II SCIII SCIV&V
Fig. 14.2 Number of days the child is read to in last week by gender and social class (Source:
Own calculations based on BCS data). Note: The labels to the bars refer to the social class of the
father at age 5. The BCS uses the Registrar General’s Classification of Social Class (SC): Social
Class I (SCI) includes professional occupations, Social Class II (SCII) includes managerial and
technical occupations, Social Class III (SCIII) includes skilled nonmanual and manual occupa-
tions, Social Class IV (SCIV) includes partly skilled occupations, and Social Class V (SCV)
includes unskilled occupations
The first component of the framework is the outcome k 2 f1; . . . ; Kt g at age t

(a)
Ytk which is the output of child well-being – for example, an educational quali-
fication or a risky behavior. The outcomes are generated in part by a vector of
capabilities at age t, denoted as yt , which constitute the different dimensions
of child well-being. The dimensionality of the vector yt does not have to be
specified a priori by the researcher. However, in the following we simplify
the discussion and consider it as a three-dimensional object yt ¼ yCt ; yNt ; yH t
where yCt denotes a vector of cognitive capabilities, yNt is a vector of noncognitive
or personality traits, and yH
t is a vector of health capacities. Each component can
be further characterized by several dimensions, e.g., fluid and crystallized intelli-
gence for cognition, the Big Five for personality, and mental and physical health.
Outcome k at age t Ytk is thus generated as a function of capabilities and effort:
Equation 14.1. Outcomes

Ytk ¼ ck yCt ; yNt ; yH
t ; et
k
(14.1)
Males – NCDS Females – NCDS
.2 .2
Log of C–Reactive Protein
Log of C–Reactive Protein

0 0
−.2 −.2
−.4 −.4
Fig. 14.3 Log of C-reactive protein by gender and social class at birth (Source: Own calculations
based on NCDS data). Note: The labels to the bars refer to the social class at birth. The NCDS uses
the Registrar General’s Classification of Social Class (SC): Social Class I (I) includes professional
occupations, Social Class II (II) includes managerial and technical occupations, Social Class
IIINM (IIINM) includes skilled nonmanual occupations, Social Class IIIM (IIIM) includes skilled
manual occupations, Social Class IV (IV) includes partly skilled occupations, and Social Class
V (V) includes unskilled occupations
where ekt is effort devoted to activity k. A range of activities can be performed

within a certain set, i.e., k 2 f1; . . . ; Kt g at age t ¼ 1; . . . ; T, and the effort the
individual devotes to a certain activity depends not only on her capabilities but also
on the rewards that she will receive for performing that activity. An important
aspect of function (14.1) is that it allows for many different ways to achieve a given
outcome, so that a shortfall in one dimension of child capabilities might be
compensated by greater strength in another. For example, a low level of cognition
can be compensated by greater motivation and perseverance, so as to allow the
child to achieve a certain level of education or of earnings. In the next section, we
provide some recent evidence on the importance of the different dimensions of
child well-being for adult outcomes.
(b) The second component of the framework is a dynamic process for the
formation of capabilities, which is governed by a multistage technology. The
technology of capability formation (Cunha and Heckman 2007) captures essential
features of human development. It expresses the stock of period t þ 1 capabilities
ðytþ1 Þ in terms of period
t capabilities ðyt Þ, investments ðIt Þ, environments ðht Þ, and
parental traits yPt :
Equation 14.2. Capability Dynamics

ytþ1 ¼ ft yt ; It ; ht ; yPt (14.2)
It can be interpreted very broadly to include investments by parents, schools, and

interventions; the latter can refer to time spent with parents, teachers, interventions
at a preschool center, or materials that stimulate the development of the capabilities.
y0 is a vector of initial endowments determined at conception, and I1 is in utero
investment. The different dimensions of the well-being of the child display self-
productivity (earlier capabilities beget later capabilities). For example, a healthy
child, or a child who is better able to pay attention in class, learns more and
produces a greater store of cognitive ability. The function is increasing in all
arguments: ytþ1 " as yt " . Equation 14.2 captures the notion that capabilities at
one age enhance capabilities at later ages, and that the development of capabilities
in subsequent periods depends on the set of capabilities already present, and on
investments, both at home and at school. If investment effects are especially strong
in one period, it is called a sensitive period: if @f@It ðtÞ > @f@It0 ð0Þ for all t0 6¼ t, t is
t
a sensitive period. Sensitive periods exist when the investment has a higher payoff
in that period than in any other one (but the payoff in other periods is not necessarily
zero); for example, learning a second language is easier before age 12. If invest-
ments are productive in only one period, that is called a critical period: if @f@It ðtÞ ¼ 0
for t 6¼ t , then t is a critical period for that investment. In other words, a period
is defined as being critical if an investment has no effect in any other period; for
example, a child born with a cataract will remain blind if the cataract is not removed
on time, making any future investment in the child’s eyesight futile. A key deter-
minant of productivity is the degree of complementarity – how much the capabil-
ities affect the productivity of investments. A crucial feature of the technology that
helps to explain many findings in the literature on skill formation is complemen-
tarity of capabilities with investment, i.e., investment is more productive in children
@ 2 f y ;I ;h ;yP
tð t t t t Þ
with higher stocks of capabilities @y @I
0 0 .
t t
Two types of complementarity can be distinguished in this framework. The first
type is a form of static complementarity between period t capabilities and period t
investments: the higher the stock of capability yt , the higher the productivity of
investment. Complementarity can occur both within a certain dimension (smarter
children are better learners) or across different dimensions (more motivated
children are better learners). The second type is dynamic complementarity, i.e.,
complementarity between investment in life-cycle period t þ 1 and investment in
period s; s > t þ 1. This dynamic complementarity arises because early investments
make later investments more productive. In other words, a high initial investment will
improve skills at later periods, which in turn increases the productivity of later
investments, and this happens because yt and It are complements. This mechanism
works both ways: complementarity also implies that later investments raise the value
h−1 l−1 q−1 PRENATAL
q0 BIRTH
h0
l0
q1 EARLY
CHILDHOOD 0–3
h1
l1
q2 LATE
CHILDHOOD 3–6
hT
lT qT+1 ADULTHOOD
Fig. 14.4 A life-cycle framework for conceptualizing child well-being. yt: Capabilities at t; It:
Investment at t; ht: Environment at time t. yt+1 ¼ ft(yt, It, ht)
of earlier investments. In limiting special cases, later investments are crucial for
earlier ones to be effective. Thus, early childhood interventions are not enough. To be
effective, they have to be followed up with quality schooling and parenting.
Dynamic complementarity explains the evidence that early nurturing environ-
ments affect the ability of animals and humans to learn. It explains why investments
in disadvantaged young children are so productive, because early investments
enhance the productivity of later investments. It also explains why investments in
low-ability adults often have such low returns, because the stock of yt is low.
Figure 14.4 demonstrates how adult outcomes are shaped by sequences of
investments over the life cycle of the child. Hence, the importance of the early
years depends on how easy it is to compensate for adverse early effects with later
investment. Empirical relationships between early conditions and adult outcomes
that ignore intervening investments and environments neglect potentially important
determinants of adult outcomes and the possibilities of remediation and compen-
sation. The evidence that we will review in the next sections shows that resilience
and remediation are possible, but are more costly at later stages.
The dynamics of this model suggest some interesting logical possibilities that are
borne out in the empirical evidence discussed in Sect. 14.5. Because of dynamic
complementarity, investment in disadvantaged adolescents may be economically
inefficient. Unmotivated and low-ability children may not make good investments
from a purely economic point of view. This evidence is consistent with
the high economic returns to education found for high-ability adolescents (see
Carneiro et al. 2003) and the low returns to remediation for low-ability adolescents
(see Heckman et al. 1998). On humanitarian grounds, society may choose to
invest in low-ability, unmotivated adolescents, but there is a sharp trade-off
between equity and efficiency. This is the dark side of the economics of human
development.
The bright side is that because of dynamic complementarity, investing early –
laying the base for enhancing the productivity of adolescent investments – can have
a substantial benefit. The returns to early investments can be higher for the children
of disadvantaged parents compared to children of advantaged parents, even those
born with cognitive and emotional deficits (see Cunha et al. 2010).
Estimating the Model. The model lends itself to estimation using latent
variable factor analysis (J€oreskog 1977) – state space models (Hamilton 1994).
The literature documents substantial measurement error in investments,
capabilities, and family environments (see Cunha and Heckman 2008; Cunha
et al. 2010; and the references cited therein); the aforementioned frameworks
account for such error.
A commonly used linear specification for measurement vector M is the following:
Equation 14.3. Measurements on Investments, Environments, and Capabilities
Mt ¼ m þ aQt þ ut (14.3)
where Mt is a vector of measurements at age t, Qt is a vector of factors (capturing yt ,

It , ht , and yPt ), and ut is measurement error. The factors are the latent capabilities,
investments, environments, and parental traits which are proxied by the measure-
ments Mt .
This methodology allows analysts to address several issues in the child indica-
tors field. First, it allows for multiple inputs in the production of child well-being,
and for each input and each dimension of child well-being to be proxied by several
indicators, which measure each dimension with error. Second, having specific
equations for the measurements allows analysts to address issues of differential
reliability and cross-culture comparability which typically plague the indicators
constructed across countries (one solution recently adopted in the literature, espe-
cially in relation to subjective well-being and health measurement, is the use of
vignettes to account for heterogeneity in response styles. However, the extent to
which this approach helps in solving the problem is subject to debate. See Van
Soest and Vonkova 2012. Hence, such an approach is useful not only in general for
the creation of a taxonomy of child well-being, but in particular for the case of
mental health and emotional well-being, which are dimensions difficult to measure,
especially in a cross-country context (as noticed in UNICEF (2007) and Kieling
et al. (2011)).
14.5 Evidence on the Determinants and Consequences

of Child Well-Being
In this section we review recent evidence on the long-term effects of child well-
being, its determinants, and dynamics, with a focus on studies based on the
framework exposited in Sect. 14.4.
The Long-Term Effects of Child Well-Being. One of the first studies to apply this
framework and go beyond the traditional focus on cognition, predominant in the
economics literature, is Heckman, Stixrud, and Urzua (2006) [they build on the
work of Bowles and Gintis (1976) and Bowles et al. (2001)]. The authors analyze
adult outcomes as produced by a two-dimensional construct (cognition and person-
ality traits). They investigate the effect of cognitive and personality traits on school-
ing and a variety of other outcomes, while also accounting for the reverse effect of
schooling on the measured traits. They use the National Longitudinal Survey of
Youth (NLSY79), a dataset containing measures on the components of the Armed
Services Vocational Aptitude Battery (ASVAB), used to create the Armed Forces
Qualifying Test (AFQT), a widely used measure of cognition. In addition, the
NLSY79 has two measures of personality: the Rotter’s locus-of-control scale,
designed to capture the extent to which individuals believe that they have control
over their lives through self-motivation (as opposed to the extent that the environment
controls their lives), and the Rosenberg Self-Esteem Scale, which assesses the level
of self-esteem. They show that the low-dimensional measures of child capabilities
explain a large array of diverse outcomes, ranging from schooling to labor market
outcomes (employment, work experience, occupational choice) and risky behaviors
(smoking, drug use, incarceration, and teenage pregnancy). We summarize their
estimates of the effects of capabilities on college graduation in Fig. 14.5, which
shows that both cognitive and personality traits have strong effects on graduating
from a 4-year college at all deciles of the capability distribution (the dotted lines are
confidence intervals). In particular, the bottom-right panel shows that moving from
the lowest decile to the highest decile in the dimension of personality (holding
cognitive ability at its mean) increases the probability of graduating from college
more than a similar percentile change in the cognitive trait distribution.
Carneiro et al. (2007) follow this approach and also recognize that assuming
a unidimensional set of capabilities is an unsatisfactory view of child well-being. In
their analysis of the British National Child Development Study (NCDS, the 1958
cohort), they show that low social skills, as measured by the Bristol Social Adjust-
ment Guide, are large risk factors for smoking. They also emphasize that the
importance of cognitive skills in affecting educational attainment and health out-
comes depends on the level of social skills. Murasko (2007) adopts a life course
approach and shows that child personality traits (greater internal locus of control
and greater self-esteem at age 10) are predictive of health at age 30, beyond their
effect of education. Jones et al. (2011) analyze the same dataset as used by Carneiro
et al. (2007) and confirm that the social adjustment of the child is the strongest
predictor of adult physical and mental illness. However, once they control for these
traits, they find little effect of the quality of the school attended on adult health.
0.8
Probability
0.6
0.4
0.2
10
0 8
10 9 6
8 7 6 5 4
4 3 2
Decile of cognitive 2 1 Decile of noncognitive
b 1
Probability and confidence
.08
interval (2.5–97.5)
0.6
0.4
0.2
0
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10
Decile
c 1
Probability and confidence
0.8
interval (2.5–97.5)
0.6
0.4
0.2
0
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10
Decile
Fig. 14.5 Probability of being a 4-year college graduate or higher at age 30, males. (a) By decile
of cognitive and noncognitive factors. (b) By decile of cognitive factor. (c) By decile of
noncognitive factor. Dotted lines are 2.5–97.5% confidence intervals. (Source: Heckman, Stixrud,
and Urzua (2006), who discuss the control variables and methodology)
More recent work has also included health as a dimension of child well-being, in
addition to cognitive and behavioral components. Conti, Heckman, and Urzua (2010,
2011) and Conti and Heckman (2010) conceptualize child capabilities as being three-
dimensional (cognition, self-regulation, and physical health) and use a variety of
indicators for each of the dimensions (cognitive test scores, personality scales, and
anthropometric indicators, respectively). They estimate a developmental model of
how early-life endowments give rise to labor market and health disparities by
education, which complement the traditional studies that have relied on quasi-
experimental evaluations. The authors develop a general latent variable model that
explicitly accounts for how the traits affect education and how these early-life
endowments and education affect later outcomes. They separately identify selection
effects from causal effects and provide guidance on the effects of educational
interventions.
They analyze the British Cohort Study – a survey of all babies born after the 24th
week of gestation from Sunday, April 5, to Saturday, April 11, 1970, in the United
Kingdom. There have been seven follow-ups to track all members of this birth
cohort: 1975, 1980, 1986, 1996, 2000, 2004, and 2008. Very rich information has
been collected from several sources (parents, teachers, and doctors during a medical
visit). They analyze information taken from the birth sweep (1970), from the second
sweep (1980), and from the fifth follow-up sweep (2000). Information from the
birth sweep includes the “family endowments,” i.e., the parental resources that form
the foundations for early learning experiences: the mother’s age, education, father’s
social class, and parity at birth. This is supplemented with family information at age
10 that includes gross family income, whether the child has lived with both parents
since birth, and the number of children in the family at age 10. Measurements in the
second follow-up sweep include scores on standard cognitive tests such as math,
English, language comprehension, and word definition; measurements of the
child’s personality taken from tests on locus of control, perseverance, and persis-
tence were also included. These were supplemented by basic anthropometric
measurements (height, head circumference, and the height of the child’s parents)
to proxy for child physical health. Their procedure accounts for measurement error,
which they find to be substantial. The adult (age 30) outcomes they analyze include
the final level of education achieved (whether the individual has stayed on beyond
compulsory education), labor market outcomes (employment and wages), healthy
behaviors (daily smoking and engaging in regular exercise), and health status
(obesity, depression, and self-reported health).
We present their results on the effects of the early-life endowments on two
particular dimensions of adult well-being: smoking and obesity. We report results
on the effects of education in the next section. Figure 14.6 plots the average
probability of being a daily smoker (top panel) or of being obese (bottom panel)
along the distribution of each of the three dimensions of child well-being, while
fixing the other two dimensions at their mean values (the adult outcomes and the
child capabilities are simulated from the estimates of our model and from the data).
The figure is constructed so that such probabilities are normalized to zero for an
individual at the bottom of each dimension of the well-being distribution at age 10
Fig. 14.6 Effect of age 10
Probability of Being a Daily Smoker

0
capabilities on smoking (top
panel) and obesity (bottom
panel), males. [Source: Conti −.1
and Heckman (2010)]
−.2
−.3
cognition
self-regulation
health
−.4
0 20 40 60 80 100
Percentile
0
Probability of Being Obese
−.1
−.2
cognition
self-regulation
health
−.3
0 20 40 60 80 100
Percentile
(to set the scale and ease comparisons of the magnitude of the effects both across
the different capabilities and across genders). The first striking result is that, while
child cognition displays an important role in determining educational choices and
labor market outcomes, it plays very little role in determining health and risky
behaviors, especially for males. Conti and Heckman (2010) show that, when
cognition is considered as the only dimension of child well-being (i.e., it is assumed
to be unidimensional), it shows significant effects on all the adult outcomes
considered. These effects vanish once they control for noncognitive traits. The
second result is that both noncognitive dimensions (self-regulation and early
physical health) are equally important determinants of adult outcomes for the
nonlabor market outcomes. The top panel of Fig. 14.6 shows that an early inter-
vention which improves the capacity of the child to self-regulate (holding his
cognitive ability and health endowment constant at their mean levels) by moving
him up from the 20th to the 80th percentile of the noncognitive distribution would
reduce the probability of being a daily smoker at age 30 by more than ten
percentage points. An effect of comparable magnitude is obtained for the physical
health of the child. The only exception to this pattern is found for obesity, for which
the early health dimension is the single most important determinant. As shown in
the bottom panel of Fig. 14.6, an early intervention that would improve the physical
health of the child (by moving her from the bottom to the top percentile of the
distribution) would bring about a reduction in the probability of being obese at age
30 by approximately 20 percentage points.
Further evidence on the importance of the noncognitive dimensions of child well-
being is given in more recent work. Goodman et al. (2011) investigate the long-term
effects of childhood psychological wellness and physical health in a cohort of
children born in Britain in 1958, again using NCDS data. They find that childhood
mental well-being, more than physical well- being, impacts negatively on a variety of
adult outcomes, ranging from income and personal relationships to cognitive and
emotional health. Interestingly, they find that adult education does not seem to be an
important pathway. Daly (2011), instead, in his response to Goodman et al. (2011),
shows that intelligence seems to account for a large portion of the relation between
childhood emotional maladjustment and adult socioeconomic status; however, his
analysis relies on the 1970, rather than on the 1958, cohort. Kaestner and Callison
(2011) find that cognitive ability and self-esteem have a significant association with
adult well-being, but locus of control has a lesser role. Conti and Hansman (2012),
using also NCDS data, show that child personality contributes to the education-health
gradient to an extent nearly as large as that of cognition.
The Dimensionality of Child Capabilities. The current indicators of child capa-
bilities used in international comparisons construct indices by taking simple aver-
ages of the components constituting each dimension. This simple way of
aggregating measurements is in widespread use in most of the literature on child
well-being. While there is an evolving literature in psychometrics on methods to
determine the number of dimensions in factor models, thus far, it has not been
applied to understand the dimensionality of child well-being. A recent exception is
the paper by Conti et al. (2012b), in which the authors develop a novel methodology
for constructing indices over a large number of error-laden measures of related, but
distinct, dimensions of human capability, without specifying the weights to be
assigned to the indicators of the different dimensions, the assignment of the
indicators to the dimensions, and the number of dimensions required to reduce
the high-dimensional dataset.
They compare their approach to traditional approaches used in psychometrics to
select the number of dimensions using scale-based taxonomies and methods based
on factor-analytic techniques. Implementing this methodology on rich longitudinal
data from Britain (the British Cohort Study, BCS70), they establish evidence on the
structure of child capabilities (operationalized in terms of the dimensions of
cognition, physical size, and mental health). They find that 13 dimensions underlie
the 131 measurements in the BCS study. When comparing the aggregates obtained
using their procedure with those obtained using simpler averages, they test and
reject the assumption of equal weighting of the indicators used to construct each
dimension as it is instead done in the construction of conventional indices. They
find substantial evidence of correlations across the different capabilities.
The Production of Child Well-Being. We next provide evidence on the dynamic
evolution of capabilities, on their interconnections, and on the existence of critical
and sensitive periods to develop each of them. This evidence gives us a more
nuanced view of public policy and allows us to assess at which stages interventions
to promote child well-being are most effective.
Among the very few papers in economics that have adopted a holistic perspec-
tive on child development is Shakotko et al. (1980). The authors postulate child
well-being as a bidimensional construct (health and cognition) and analyze the
dynamic relationship between these two components. They do not model invest-
ment (It ) but consider the effect of parental environmental variables (yPt ). They find
evidence of a continuing interaction between health and cognitive development
over the life cycle, with feedback both from health to cognitive development and
from cognitive development to health, the latter relationship being the strongest.
They report substantial effects of parental environmental variables.
In a series of papers, Cunha and Heckman (2008, 2009) and Cunha, Heckman,
and Schennach (2010) formulate and estimate models of parental investment,
parental environmental influence, and human capital development which are faith-
ful to the recent evidence from the biological sciences on the malleability of
different abilities at different ages. They analyze two dimensions of child well-
being (cognitive and noncognitive). Cunha and Heckman (2008) estimate a linear
version of the technology (equation 14.2), where the evolution of the capabilities of
the child is a function of their lagged values and of parental investments.
While linearity is a computationally convenient assumption, it implies that the
inputs in the production of child capabilities are perfect substitutes, i.e., that over
the feasible range, it is always possible to remediate for earlier disadvantage. Thus,
linear models cannot provide reliable guidance for assessing the effectiveness of
remediation policies. Their results show strong self-productivity effects for both
capabilities and strong cross-productivity effects of noncognitive skills on cognitive
skills (evidence that personality factors promote learning), but not vice versa. A key
finding of this research is that parental investments affect cognitive skills more
strongly at earlier rather than at later ages, while they affect the noncognitive
dimension more in middle childhood.
Cunha, Heckman, and Schennach (2010) estimate a nonlinear version of the
technology of capability formation. This innovation is important as it allows them
to estimate key substitution parameters, necessary for the design of strategies for
early vs. late interventions. They assume that childhood is made of two stages: stage
I corresponds to birth through age 4 and stage II to ages 5–14. The major findings
from their analysis can be summarized as follows: (1) skills become harder to budge
with age; (2) it is more difficult to compensate for the effects of adverse environ-
ments on cognition at later than at earlier ages; and (3) the malleability of
noncognitive skills remains unchanged over the childhood life cycle. The last
point implies that if remediation for adolescents is to be effective, it should focus
on addressing noncognitive skills (see Heckman, Humphries, and Kautz (2013) for
evidence on this point).
In order to examine the implications of their estimates, they consider the problem
of determining how to optimally allocate investments from a fixed budget in order to
maximize schooling for a cohort of children. The profile of optimal early (left panel)
1.2 1.2
1.15 1.15
1.1 1.1
Investment
Investment
1.05 1.05
1 1
0.95 0.95
−1 −1
0.9 0.9
−1 −0.5 −1
−0.5
lity
−0.5 −0.5
lity
bi
0 0
bi
Ca l
Co C
e ia
pa
Ca l
e tia
pa
Co
tiv Init
gn hil C 0
tiv ni
itiv d I 0 gn hil
ni d I
itiv d I
og hild
e niti 0.5 0.5
og hil
Ca al e niti
nc C
Ca al
C
ni
pa 0.5 0.5
bil pa
ity bil
nc
1 1 ity 1 1
No
No
Fig. 14.7 Optimal early (left) and late (right) investments by child initial conditions of capabil-
ities to maximize aggregate education. [Source: Cunha, Heckman, and Schennach (2010)]
and late (right panel) investment as a function of child endowments is plotted in

Fig. 14.7. The important point to notice is that, for the children born in the most
disadvantaged conditions (i.e., with low values of both cognitive and noncognitive
capabilities), the optimal policy is to invest a lot in the early years (left panel), when
there is also a substantial decline in the optimal investment by level of initial
advantage (note lighter shades in the figure correspond to higher values of invest-
ment). On the other hand, the optimal investment level profiles in the second period
(right panel) are much flatter and slightly favor the more advantaged children. It is
socially optimal to invest more in the second period in advantaged than in disadvan-
taged children. The authors find a similar investment profile when considering
optimal investments to reduce aggregate crime. Standard models in criminology
assign no role to investments (see, e.g., Nagin and Tremblay 2001).
This important result is a manifestation of the dynamic complementarity which
produces an equity-efficiency trade-off for adolescent but not for early investment.
In the next section, we provide further evidence on the effectiveness of early vs. late
intervention.
14.6 Policies to Promote Child Well-Being
While the field of the measurement of child well-being has moved away from simple
income/poverty-based indices, to indicators centered on a more holistic view of the
child, policy attention has mostly focused on improving the financial position of
the families (e.g., with cash benefits and tax breaks, child care, parental leave).
However, increases in family resources do not necessarily translate into increased

investment in children. It is quality parenting that promotes successful, flourishing
lives of children. In this section, we provide recent evidence on the effectiveness of
early and late interventions to compensate in part for the risks arising from disad-
vantaged environments.
Before doing so, we note that one important point underemphasized in the
current literature is that the interventions implemented differ in terms of: the
populations targeted, the objectives and philosophies of the programs, the measures
taken, the measurement instruments used, the backgrounds of the children and their
families, and the methods of evaluation. Programs differ in so many different ways
that it is often difficult to isolate the specific components leading to the success of
one and the failure of another. Additionally, the intervention studies need to be
integrated with the studies of family influence, in order to understand how public
investments affect the private investments of the parents. Finally, alternative
interventions need to be assessed in comparable metrics – in terms of rate of return
or cost-benefit analysis – in order to place the evaluation of specific policies aimed
at compensating for disadvantage on a common footing. There is the need to move
beyond collections of “treatment effects,” which are hard to interpret or to use as the
basis for policy when a variety of competing proposals are on the table. Cost-
effectiveness matters for policy, since governments have limited resources to
allocate between competing programs. However, few evaluations include rigorous
cost-benefit analyses, which are primarily limited to the major early childhood
interventions. Moreover, cost-benefit ratios might be underestimated, because
many outcomes cannot be easily monetized (e.g., improvements in health and
mental health), and siblings (or other family members) can benefit from spillovers.
Most studies only consider some outcome domains, and labor market information is
limited to early adulthood. Extrapolating benefits based on early effects on test
scores, educational attainment, or earnings is a dangerous business. Long-run
follow-ups are essential when assessing cost-effectiveness, because many effects
of interventions fade out over time. Finally, interventions are also likely to yield
social returns. For example, lower crime rates and lower dependence ratios are both
beneficial for the individual and the society. In order to design, implement, and
evaluate effective policies to promote child well-being, it is important to go beyond
meta-analyses and understand the mechanisms that produce the treatment effects
and can be compared across interventions. This is true not only for policies
specifically targeted at promoting child well-being but also for comparison of
a variety of policies that compete with childhood policies for funding.
14.6.1 Early Interventions
The most reliable evidence on the effectiveness of early interventions comes from
experiments that substantially enrich the early environments of children born in
disadvantaged families. Two of these investigations, the Perry Preschool Project
and the Abecedarian Project, are particularly revealing because they use a random
assignment design and continue to follow the children into their adult years. These
studies demonstrate substantial positive effects of early environmental enrichment
on a range of cognitive skills and behavioral traits, school achievement, job
performance, and social behaviors – effects that persist long after the interventions
have ended. Other studies – such as the Nurse-Family Partnership, which visits
pregnant girls and teaches them prenatal health practices and parenting – support
these conclusions.
The Abecedarian Project. The ABC studied 111 disadvantaged children born
between 1972 and 1977 whose families scored high on a risk index. The mean age
at entry was 8.8 weeks. The program was a year-round, full-day intervention that
continued through age eight. It was more intensive than the Perry intervention. It
consisted of a two-stage treatment: a preschool intervention focusing on early
childhood education and a subsequent school-age intervention focusing on the
initial schooling age period. It used a systematic curriculum specially developed
by Sparling and Lewis (1979, 1984) that consisted of a series of “educational
games,” which emphasized language, emotional development, and cognitive skills.
The children were followed through their mid-30s; the mid-30s data collection (a
biomedical sweep) was just recently completed. The initial infant-to-teacher ratio
was 3:1, though it grew to 6:1 as the kids progressed through the program. Infants in
the control group received an iron-fortified formula for 15 months and diapers as
needed to create an incentive for participation (Campbell et al. 2001, 2002). Many
of the children in the control group were enrolled in preschool and/or kindergarten.
During the first three primary school years, a home-school teacher would meet with
the parents of the children who were in the treatment group and guide them in
providing supplemental educational activities at home. The teacher provided an
individually tailored curriculum for each child. This home-school teacher also
served as a liaison between the ordinary teachers and the family, and she would
interact with the parents and the teachers about every 2 weeks. She would also help
the parents find employment, navigate the bureaucracy of social services agencies,
and transport children to appointments, all of which could improve parents’ ability
to raise their children (Campbell and Ramey 1994).
The Perry Preschool Study. Perry was an intensive preschool curriculum admin-
istered to 58 low-income black children with initial IQs below 85 at age 3, in
Ypsilanti, Michigan, between 1962 and 1967 (the control group includes 65
children). It used the High/Scope curriculum, an highly interactive approach that
promotes student involvement. Activities took place within a structured daily
routine intended to help children to “develop a sense of responsibility and to
enjoy opportunities for independence” (Schweinhart et al. 1993). The treatment
consisted of a daily 2.5-hour classroom session on weekday mornings and a weekly
90-min home visit by the teacher on weekday afternoons, to promote parent-child
interactions. The curriculum was geared toward the children’s age and capabilities,
emphasizing child-initiated activities that focused on fostering noncognitive traits.
Staff encouraged children to engage in play activities that had children plan, do, and
review tasks each day: students planned a task, executed it, and then reviewed it
with teachers and fellow students. The reviews were collective and taught the
children important social skills. The length of each preschool year was 30 weeks,
and the program ended after 2 years of enrollment. The control and treatment
groups have been followed through age 40.
Both Perry and Abecedarian have showed consistent patterns of successful
outcomes for treatment group members compared with control group members.
Among Perry participants, an initial increase in IQ disappeared gradually over the
4 years following the intervention. Such IQ fade-outs have been observed in other
studies. But the main effects of the Perry remained, and they involve noncognitive
traits (Heckman et al. 2012). Even though they were no brighter than the controls as
measured by IQ tests, the Perry adolescent treatment group members faired better
than the control group on achievement tests at age fourteen because they were more
engaged in school. Positive effects were also documented for a wide range of social
behaviors. At the oldest ages studied (40 years for Perry; 30 for Abecedarian),
treated individuals scored higher on achievement tests, attained higher levels of
education, required less special education, earned higher wages, were more likely to
own a home, and were less likely to go on welfare or be incarcerated than controls.
Heckman et al. (2012) show that the Perry Preschool Program worked primarily
through socioemotional channels; even if the program did not have a lasting effect
on IQ scores, the personalities of participants improved. Participants of both
genders improved their externalizing behavior. They also show that different
dimensions of the well-being of the child affect different outcomes. Cognition
primarily affects achievement tests and also certain labor market outcomes. Exter-
nalizing behavior affects crime outcomes, labor market outcomes, and health
behaviors. Academic motivation boosts educational outcomes and reduces long-
term unemployment. The importance of each of these three dimensions of child
well-being in explaining the treatment effects from the intervention is reported in
Fig. 14.8. Each bar represents the total treatment effect of the intervention, nor-
malized to 100%, on the outcome listed on the left side; the total (non-normalized)
treatment effect is reported in parentheses. For example, we see that the interven-
tion increased the duration of marriage by almost 40 months: women in the control
group have experienced, on average, 48 months of marriage by the time they reach
age 40, whereas those in the treated group have been married on average 88 months.
Each bar is further decomposed into various parts, which represent the percentage
of the treatment effect on that particular outcome attributable to that particular
component of child well-being: cognition, externalizing behavior, and academic
motivation; the share of the treatment effect which is left unexplained is also shown
(the numbers reported above each component are one-sided p-values which show
whether the contribution of that particular component to the treatment effect is
statistically significant). It is evident that the effect of the intervention on life
outcomes operates primarily through the program’s enhancement of externalizing
behavior: components attributable to changes in this factor are generally statisti-
cally significant and explain up to 60% of the treatment effect on crime. The crime
effects are particularly important, since they are the main components of the
benefits from Perry (Heckman, Pinto, and Savelyev, 2012). Moreover, experimen-
tally induced increases in academic motivation and cognition also play
0.153 0.057 0.283

CAT total, age 8 (0.565*)
0.256 0.528 0.232
CAT total, age 14 (0.806**)
0.344 0.533 0.071
Any special education, age 14 (−0.262**)
0.339 0.042 0.109
Mentally impaired at least once, age 19 (−0.280**)
0.099 0.305
# of misdemeanor violent crimes, age 27 (−0.423**)
0.120 0.319
# of felony arrests, age 27 (−0.269**)
0.497 0.127
Jobless for more than 1 year, age 27 (−0.292*)
0.199 0.228 0.150
Ever tried drugs other than alcohol or weed, age 27 (−0.227**)
0.066 0.371
# of misdemeanor violent crimes, age 40 (−0.537**)
0.050 0.369
# of felony arrests, age 40 (−0.383**)
0.046 0.320
# of lifetime violent crimes, age 40 (−0.574**)
0.185 0.224 0.269 0.352
Months in all marriages, age 40 (39.6*)
0% 20% 40% 60% 80% 100%
Cognitive Factor Externalizing Behavior Academic Motivation Other Factors
Fig. 14.8 Decomposition of treatment effects on outcomes, females [Source: Heckman, Pinto,
and Savelyev (2012)]. Note: The total treatment effects are shown in parentheses. Each bar
represents the total treatment effect normalized to 100%. One-sided p-values are shown above
each component of the decomposition. Asterisks denote statistical significance: *10 percent level;
**5 percent level; ***1 percent level
a non-negligible role in explaining the effects of the program: for example, the
latter component explains 20% of the effect of the treatment on the duration of
marriage. The estimated rate of return (the annual return per dollar of cost) to the
Perry project is 7–10% (higher than the 5.8% returns on stock market equity
received from the end of World War II through 2008; see Heckman et al.
(2010b)). This estimate is conservative because it ignores economic returns to
health and mental health, which are currently being incorporated. Conti and Heck-
man (2013) report significant treatment effects on health an healthy behaviors for
both the Abecedarian and the Perry interventions.
The Nurse-Family Partnership. The Nurse-Family Partnership targeted unmar-
ried pregnant girls of adolescent age with low income and no history of live births.
The program recruited women with these characteristics because it aimed to
address problems (e.g., poor birth outcomes, child abuse and neglect, and dimin-
ished economic self-sufficiency of parents) concentrated in these populations. The
program has been implemented in a series of randomized trials conducted in
Elmira, New York (n ¼ 400), Memphis, Tennessee (n ¼ 1,135), and Denver,
Colorado (n ¼ 735). In each of these three sites, women were randomized to
receive either home visitation services during the pregnancy and the first 2 years
of the lives of their children, or comparison services. The program has been shown
to improve the well-being of the child (fewer injuries) and of the mother (fewer
subsequent pregnancies, greater work force participation, and reduced use of public
assistance and of food stamps); see Olds (2002) for a summary of the main results
from the three sites. Additionally, in the Denver trial, the program was administered
either by nurses or paraprofessionals; it has been shown that, for most outcomes on
which either visitor produced significant effects, the paraprofessionals typically
had effects that were about half the size of those produced by the nurses (Olds
et al. 2002).
Among other early interventions, the Tools of the Mind curriculum is similar to
High/Scope. It is inspired by the work of Vygotsky, who emphasized the impor-
tance of the learner to interact with the environment and to explore it independently
with her own senses. Vygotsky also promoted assisted discovery (or scaffolding):
children are guided in their learning by the teachers, and are also aided by their
peers, as they work in groups of mixed abilities. It was developed by the educational
psychologists Elena Bodrova and Deborah Leong (2007), and it targets the
development of core executive functions (EF) in preschoolers, such as inhibitory
control, working memory, and cognitive flexibility. In Tools, techniques for
supporting, training, and challenging EFs are intertwined in almost all classroom
activities throughout the day, consistently with the Vygotskian idea that EFs
develop as children are engaged in specific interpersonal interactions. The most
convincing evidence on the effectiveness of the Tools of the Mind curriculum
comes from a randomized evaluation which was carried out in an urban school
district in the Northeast, after the opening of a publicly funded preschool program
for poor children. From the list of parents who signed up, children were randomly
assigned either to the Tools curriculum or to a version of the balanced literacy
curriculum, which had been developed by the school district (dBL). This was
based on the idea that literacy should be taught to young children in a balanced
way, i.e., through a combination of different activities. In practice, it covered the
same academic content as the Tools curriculum but without any activity intention-
ally designed to promote EF development (children were not expected to regulate
each other or themselves in the classroom). Diamond et al. (2007) compare the
outcomes of 147 preschoolers randomly assigned and show that children who
received the Tools curriculum showed improved performance in EF measures, as
compared to the children who received the dBL curriculum. Contrary to these
results, a recent large-scale study (Farran and Wilson 2012) does not find any
significant effect of the program on literacy, language, mathematics achievement,
or self-regulation, after one year of implementation. However, Diamond et al.
(2007) provide suggestive evidence that it takes two years before positive effects
can be identified, since the teachers need to adjust their practices to the new
curriculum.
Other preschool interventions have shown evidence of significant effects. How-
ever, a proper comparison among them requires an understanding of the different
components of the various curricula, in order to identify the mechanisms through
which the various programs operate and produce improved outcomes. Recent
reviews of early childhood interventions (Nores and Barnett 2009; Baker-
Henningham and Lopez Boo 2010) conclude that mixed interventions (i.e., those
involving an educational, care, and stimulation component) of greater intensity and
of longer duration are the most effective. Additionally, they conclude that inter-
ventions should target younger and more disadvantaged children and actively seek
the involvement of the families and of the caregivers. However, they recognize that
more research is needed to determine the optimal age and mode of delivery and that
careful cost-benefit analyses should be incorporated in the evaluations of the
interventions.
Finally, the evidence on late childhood interventions, instead, reveals that they
have been less successful in promoting child well-being [see the evidence in Cunha
et al. (2006) and Chapter 10 in Heckman, Humphries and Kautz (2013)]. Durlak
et al. (2011) present a meta-study of 213 school-based social and emotional
learning programs. This shows that, while some programs have been successful,
many of the evaluations they include suffer from methodological problems. Only
47% of the programs studied are randomized, and only 15% contain follow-ups
that go beyond 6 months. When long-term follow-ups are available, these pro-
grams usually show no persistent gains. A typical example is the Quantum
Opportunity Project (QOP), which provided both counseling services by means
of a qualified mentor and financial incentives to participants for a duration of four
years. While showing positive short-term effects on high school graduation, most
of its positive effects faded out by the 10-year follow-up (Rodriguez-Planas
2012a).
Education. There is a long ongoing debate on the usefulness of education to
remediate preexisting disparities and to promote well-being (see Lochner (2011) for
a recent survey of the evidence). The economic literature has addressed this
question mainly by using quasi-experimental designs. In a series of papers, Conti
et al. (2010, 2011) and Conti and Heckman (2010) break new ground in the
education-health debate (as noted in Mazumder (2012)) by using a developmental
model, which recognizes that education is itself determined by early-life traits –
dimensions of child capabilities – and is an outcome of child well-being itself (note
that educational attainment is one of the indicators included in the UNICEF and
OECD taxonomies reviewed in the introductory section). The authors first address
the question as to whether education has a causal impact on adult outcomes or if it is
just a proxy for dimensions of child capabilities, which affect both the educational
choice and the outcomes themselves. The extent to which education impacts well-
being is shown in Fig. 14.9, where the length of each bar shows the mean
differences at age 30 in a number of outcomes (health, health behaviors, and
labor market outcomes) between individuals who have dropped out at the minimum
compulsory school leaving age (16 years in Britain at the time we consider) and
those who have stayed on beyond age 16 to achieve a post-compulsory educational
qualification. These raw differentials are then decomposed into a component attrib-
utable to early-life determinants and another caused by schooling itself – what
economists call the “treatment effect” of education. This decomposition exercise
shows that, while education has huge effects across many outcomes (the dark
portion of the bar represents the share of the disparity which can be attributed to
the causal effect of education), early-life dimensions of child capabilities also play
a key role: first, they promote attendance in schooling, and second, they have an
independent effect in their own right on several adult outcomes. Importantly,
education has a stronger effect on health behaviors than on health outcomes per
se. This makes a strong case for prevention by investing in child well-being. The
second question that the authors address is whether the success of later interven-
tions depends on the quality of earlier ones and on the nature of the capability
created. An example on how the effect of education on one dimension of adult
0.2
Early Life Factors

0.15 Causal Effect of Education
0.1
ing
ok
lth
n
sio
Sm
ea
it y
s
H
pre
0.05
ily
es
or
Ob
Da
De
Po
M F M F M F M F
0
M F M F M ise F
e
t
en
ag
erc
m
−0.05
W
oy
ly
Ex
pl
ur
Em
lar
Ho
gu
g
FT
−0.1
Lo
Re
−0.15
M=Males, F=Females.
−0.2
Fig. 14.9 Educational disparities in labor market and health outcomes in the BCS70. [Source:
Conti, Heckman, and Urzua (2010)]
Cognitive
−.05 Noncognitive
Health
−.1
ATE
−.15
−.2
Fig. 14.10 Effect of
education on smoking by
−.25
percentiles of the distribution
of child well-being [Source: 0 20 40 60 80 100
Conti and Heckman (2010)] Percentile
well-being – the unhealthy behavior of smoking – varies with different dimensions

of child capabilities is presented in Fig. 14.10. Here, it is shown that the beneficial
effect of education, in terms of the percentage point reduction in the probability of
being a daily smoker by age 30, is much bigger for adults who were at the top of the
cognitive ability distribution, but at the bottom of the noncognitive ability distri-
bution at age 10 (When estimating the effect of post-compulsory education on
the probability of being a daily smoker along the distribution of each capability,
the other two capabilities are fixed at their mean values). In other words, education
has a reinforcing effect for cognitive capabilities and a compensatory effect for
psychological dimensions of child well-being. This evidence on differential effects
of education by level of cognition in childhood is consistent with the interpretation
that the information content on the dangers of smoking provided by post-
compulsory education needs to be combined with the capacity to process that
information in order for it to be effective. On the other hand, the evidence of
a greater effect of education for adults who had self-regulation problems in child-
hood is consistent with evidence of the malleability of the prefrontal cortex – and so
of skills related to discipline and self-control – into the adolescent years. Hence,
while it is more effective to start young, there are still effective strategies for
addressing the problems of disadvantaged adolescents.
A consolidated body of evidence suggests that cognitive skills are established
early in life and that boosting raw IQ and problem-solving ability in the teenage
years is much harder than doing so when children are young. But social and
personality skills are malleable into the early twenties, although early formation
of these traits is still the best policy because they boost learning. The timing of
specific policies and interventions should be designed on the basis of the mallea-
bility of the capability they target. However, as currently implemented, public job
training programs, adult literacy services, prisoner rehabilitation programs, and
education programs for disadvantaged adults produce low economic returns
(Cunha et al. 2006). Moreover, studies in which later interventions showed some
benefits also found that the performance of disadvantaged children was still behind
the performance of children who also experienced interventions in the preschool
years. In sum, if the base is stronger, the return to later investment is greater.
The essence of the argument of investing in child well-being can be summarized
in Fig. 14.11, which shows the return to a unit dollar invested by stage of the life
cycle. This graph captures the returns to a hypothetical investor who is deciding
where to place his/her money in the life of a newborn. From a purely economic
standpoint, the highest return to a unit dollar invested is at the beginning of the life
cycle since it builds the base that makes later returns possible. One important point to
clarify is that the argument to invest in child well-being does not say that there is no
return to schooling or later investment. Indeed, for those with a good base, the
economic benefits are substantial (see Carneiro et al. 2003). The high early returns
arise in part because they promote substantial benefits for later-life investment. The
logic suggested by this figure should be to promote a policy of prevention, rather than
remediation, since it is much more cost-effective to help disadvantaged children
earlier on than to remediate later on. Yet despite the evidence, society underinvests in
disadvantaged young children. Less-educated women tend to be single parents. They
work in low-wage jobs and do not invest much in their children. More educated
women, even if single mothers, are not only working more but also investing more in
their children – effectively increasing the gap between the advantaged and the
disadvantaged (McLanahan 2004). As a result, inequality is being perpetuated –
and even increased – across generations. The solution to this problem is to invest in
the promotion of child capabilities beginning at conception.
Programs targeted towards the earliest years

RATE OF RETURN TO INVESTMENT
IN HUMAN CAPITAL
Preschool programs
Schooling
Job training
0
0–3 4–5 School Post-school
Fig. 14.11 Returns to a unit dollar invested by stage of the life cycle
At the same time, we cannot abandon the children who have had no access to this
foundational opportunity, or the adults, who did not have such opportunities as
children. However, the key to successful remediation is to invest in carefully
designed programs which address those capabilities amenable to change.
Evidence from Neuroscience and Genetics. From the current state of knowledge,
it is clear that adverse conditions in early life induce changes in brain structure and
functions and that these environmental stressors can affect epigenetic programming
of long-term changes in neurodevelopment and behavior (Murgatroyd and Spengler
2011). Two key aspects have to be considered: first, the temporal nature of brain
development, and second, the temporal and gene-specific manner of epigenetic
programming. With regard to the former, different brain regions pass through
critical windows of sensitivity in different periods, so that environmental exposures
at different ages will affect different areas of the brain. For example, environmental
exposures in the late prenatal and early postnatal period are associated with changes
in the hippocampus (McCrory et al. 2010), while cortical development continues
into adolescence (Wang and Gao 2009). Additionally, while the reversibility of
structural and functional changes in the brain, following alterations in social and
emotional conditions, has not been systematically investigated, recent research in
humans is beginning to document the effects of specific interventions to reduce
stress and promote well-being on brain structure and function (see Davidson and
McEwen (2012) for a recent review). With regard to the second aspect, the way
epigenetic marks translate from a transient state to lasting cellular memory is still
a black box; the best available evidence comes from animal studies and
suggests that early adversity gets under the skin and establishes stable marks very
early (e.g., Murgatroyd et al. 2010). However, the question of whether critical
windows for psychotherapeutic and pharmacological interventions (the so-called

epigenetic drugs) might exist before the establishment of stable epigenetic marks is
still open. While environmental enrichment in puberty has shown positive effects
both in animals (Imanaka et al. 2008) and in humans (Fisher et al. 2007), the
optimal timing and duration and the most effective components of such interven-
tions might be quite specific and dependent upon the nature of early-life adversity.
Above all, the quantitative importance of these epigenetic effects and the nature
itself of these biological changes – whether they are on a causal pathway between
early-life conditions and late outcomes – needs to be rigorously established. What is
known supports the framework of Sect. 14.4 and the evidence summarized in
Sect. 14.5. Knowledge is accumulating rapidly, and designing and implementing
biologically based interventions is the key to promoting the well-being of the future
generation, while not abandoning the current one.
14.7 Future Directions
Incorporating Lessons from Biology. In sum, while much remains to be learned,

there are important hints in the literature. The literature is actively addressing the
following questions. How important are investments and environments in the early
years as compared to later-stage investments and environments? How should
investments be staged over the life cycle to promote human flourishing? How
effective are later-life compensations for early-life effects of adversity? In order
to make progress, biological and socioeconomic mechanisms need to be thoroughly
investigated.
First, the literature on the neurobiology of resilience and reversibility of risk
shows mounting evidence that the adverse effects of early-life conditions might be
coped with (Feder et al. 2009) or are at least partially reversible; for example, there
is increasing evidence of plasticity in key brain areas (Davidson and McEwen
2012); of restoration in telomere function by diet, exercise, and stress reduction
(Puterman and Epel 2012); and even of reversing the prenatal adaptations from fetal
malnutrition following dietary changes (Burdge et al. 2009). The key aspects seem
to be the windows of plasticity for specific organs. Experience gets embodied in the
biology of the organism. Recent evidence on gene-environment interactions shows
us how experience gets under – and stays under – the skin and how early childhood
environments, together with genetic variation, alter epigenetic regulation and
change developmental trajectories by altering human biological processes
(Hertzman and Boyce 2010). Recent evidence from nonhuman primates shows
that early-life experiences can trigger epigenetic changes, which manifest very
early, are not the results of cumulative exposures (Cole et al. 2012), and can have
long-term consequences, without being reversed by a normal social environment
later in life (Conti et al. 2012).
Second, the existence of gender differences in the effects of interventions
(Bandy 2012 and Bell et al. 2012) needs to be more thoroughly investigated, to
disentangle biological and socioeconomic channels. An example of the complex
Table 14.1 Childhood biological and socioeconomic correlates of well-being at age 15

Percentage of fat at age 15 IQ at 15
Males Females Males Females
Log of interleukin-6 (IL-6) at age 10 –0.372 0.631*** 0.239 0.375
(0.236) (0.236) (0.425) (0.426)
Log of C-reactive protein (CRP) at age 10 1.882*** 1.883*** –0.0634 –0.436
(0.183) (0.174) (0.330) (0.314)
Low birth weight (<2,500 g) –0.917 0.821 –3.043** –0.541
(0.828) (0.869) (1.470) (1.595)
Family income 200–300 £ per week 0.761 –0.960 -2.621 1.585
(0.936) (0.837) (1.687) (1.502)
Family income 300–400 £ per week 0.144 –0.548 -0.501 2.468*
(0.897) (0.802) (1.624) (1.438)
Family income more than 400 £ per week 0.240 –1.213 2.054 3.774***
(0.843) (0.750) (1.536) (1.342)
Mother has O-level education 0.634 –1.179** 4.485*** 3.937***
(0.559) (0.524) (0.998) (0.949)
Mother has A-level education 0.0616 –1.680*** 9.456*** 7.955***
(0.584) (0.554) (1.040) (1.007)
Mother has degree-level education –0.843 –2.208*** 14.33*** 14.10***
(0.649) (0.620) (1.162) (1.128)
Observations 1,498 1,537 1,400 1,437
R-squared 0.086 0.128 0.175 0.154
Note: Standard errors in parentheses; *** p < 0.01, ** p < 0.05, * p < 0.1. Other controls not
shown in the table are race, binary indicators for missing family income and maternal education,
age, and medication at blood collection. Family income is measured at age 8; mother’s education is
measured at gestation. The reference category for family income is less than 200 £ per week; the
reference category for mother’s education is less than O-level. Source: Own calculations based on
the Avon Longitudinal Study of Parents and Children (ALSPAC)
interconnections between biological and socioeconomic factors is suggested by the

analysis reported in Table 14.1. In this table, we report a multiple regression
analysis of two measures of late childhood capabilities: the IQ score and the
percentage of fat, both measured at age 15. Regressors are family background
factors (family income and mother’s education) and child health conditions (both
standard measures like birth weight and biomarkers for inflammation [C-reactive
protein (CRP) and the cytokine interleukin-6 (IL-6); see Slopen et al. (2012)]. We
make several observations. First, mother’s education shows a stronger association
with child well-being than family income. The strength of the association increases
with the level of maternal education. Second, being born in poor health conditions
only affects cognitive outcomes and with an effect which is gender-specific. Being
born with a low birth weight is associated with, on average, an IQ score of three
points lower at age 15 for males. However, there is no such cognitive penalty for
females. No significant association is uncovered between low birth weight and the
proportion of fat at age 15. Third, the two biomarkers of child health which are
available in the data – the C-reactive protein and interleukin-6 (both proxies for
inflammation) – show, instead, a strong and significant association with the per-
centage of fat mass at 15 years. In sum, the main message of this table is that, while
family background measures and traditional proxies for health are significant
determinants of cognitive measures routinely used in economics, the analysis of
more refined measures of child well-being – such as the percentage of fat – requires
incorporation of more biological proxies, which capture the extent to which the
early-life environment has permeated within the body. In this respect, both IL-6 and
CRP are significant predictors of the physical well-being of the child, with an effect
that also varies by gender and which is poorly captured by other measures.
Finally, even bigger challenges for future research are to find out which
approaches best serve which subpopulations, which skills these programs improve,
and ideally, which aspects of the program are responsible for these changes in
skills. Hence, our ability to design effective policies will increase as evidence from
the biological sciences on windows of plasticity for specific dimensions sharpens.
Our ability to evaluate policies will also improve as the availability of biomarkers in
the data accessible to researchers increases, better enabling them to measure the
functioning of specific parts of the brain and of the body, all of which contribute to
different aspects of human well-being.
Open Questions for Future Research and Policy. Several practical questions also
need to be addressed.
1. Who should be targeted? The returns to early childhood programs are highest for
disadvantaged children who do not receive substantial amounts of parental
investment in the early years. The proper measure of disadvantage is not
necessarily family poverty or parental education: the available evidence suggests
that the quality of parenting is the important scarce resource. So we need better
measures of risky family environments in order to achieve more accurate
targeting.
2. With what programs? Programs that target the early years seem to have the
greatest promise. The Abecedarian and Perry programs show high returns.
Equally suggestive is the analysis of the Nurse-Family Partnership. Programs
with home visits affect the lives of the parents and create a permanent change in
the home environment that supports the child after center-based interventions
end. Programs that build character and motivation, and do not focus exclusively
on cognition, appear to be the most effective, especially in the adolescent years.
3. Who should provide the programs? In designing any program that aims to
improve the well-being of children, it is important to respect the sanctity of
early family life and cultural diversity. The goal of early childhood programs is
to create a base of productive skills and traits for disadvantaged children from all
social, ethnic, and religious groups. Engaging the private sector, including
privately constituted social groups and philanthropists, augments public
resources, creates community support, and ensures that diverse points of view
are represented.
4. Who should pay for them? One could make the programs universal to avoid
stigmatization. Universal programs would be much more expensive and create
the possibility of deadweight losses whereby public programs displace private
investments by families. One solution to these problems is to make the programs

universal but to offer a sliding fee schedule based on family income.
5. Will the programs achieve high levels of compliance? It is important to recog-
nize potential problems with program compliance. Many successful programs
change the values and motivations of the child. Some of these changes may run
counter to the values of certain parents. There may be serious tension between
the needs of the child and the acceptance of interventions by the parents.
Developing culturally diverse programs will help avoid such tension. One
cannot assume that there will be no conflict between the values of society as it
seeks to develop the potential of the child and the values of the family, although
the extent of such conflict is not yet known.
14.8 Conclusions
This chapter presents an economic framework for conceptualizing child well-being

in a developmental perspective. It reviews recent evidence which shows that
investing in the capabilities of the children today is the most cost-effective policy
to promote the capabilities of the adults tomorrow. This argument makes sense both
on equity and efficiency grounds. Despite the logic and the evidence, most policies
still overlook the efficacy of early interventions, leading to an underinvestment in
the skills of very disadvantaged children.
The evidence presented in this chapter makes the case that rethinking the current
American policy by investing more in the early years is an efficient and effective
policy, both for the individual and the communities (Conti and Heckman 2012).
The evidence from the economics of child well-being calls for a move from a policy
of redistribution to one of pre-distribution of resources.
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Social Work and Child Well-Being
15
Sheila B. Kamerman and Shirley Gatenio-Gabel
15.1 Introduction
This chapter will discuss three different strategies to improve child well-being that
are shaping current social work practice, incorporating yet going beyond traditional
concern with deprivation and disadvantage. The three strategies discussed are child
rights, social exclusion, and family policy. Breaking with past approaches, each of
these strategies defines child well-being differently and has implications for social
work practice. We will end with a brief discussion of how these strategies can
enhance child well-being and change social work practice with children.
15.2 Context
The history of social work is deeply rooted in helping vulnerable populations

improve their well-being, and children have been at the forefront of these efforts
since the inception of profession. The early efforts of upper-class women and men
in religious and secular charitable organizations and later in settlement houses
whose work was the basis from which the social work profession were found.
They sought to address the consequences of poverty, urbanization, and immigration
in postindustrial societies. In both these traditions, the well-being of children was
S.B. Kamerman (*)

Columbia University School of Social Work, New York, NY, USA
S. Gatenio-Gabel
Graduate School of Social Service, Fordham University, New York, NY, USA

404 S.B. Kamerman and S. Gatenio-Gabel
a priority. Views on how to best help children and their families have vacillated
widely over time reflecting prevailing views of childhood, understanding of the
causes of vulnerabilities, responsibility for resolution, and beliefs about the most
effective strategies to help children and families. Today social work practice related
to fostering the well-being of children and their families centers on providing such
services as: family preservation and support, in and out-of-home care, family foster
care, kinship care, residential group homes, adoption, independent living, child day
care, adolescent pregnancy, and parenting services.
By nature, social work incorporates an interdisciplinary approach both in how it
views social problems and in the strategies it promotes to respond to social issues.
Child, youth, and family policies are implemented through public and private
sectors: health and medical care, mental health and juvenile justice systems,
youth services, family services, child welfare, education, and income support,
throughout the world. The myriad of agencies involved further complicates service
delivery resulting in fragmented initiatives, gaps in policies and programs, and
supply and coverage, adding to the complexity of improving the well-being of
children, youth, and their families.
Historically, the social work approach to social issues has been dominated by the
traditional medical model – identifying a problem, assessing symptoms and syn-
dromes, and developing a treatment and prognosis with and without treatment
(Laing 1971). This is in contrast to a holistic model that argues for the whole of
psychological, physical, and social experiences to be taken into account when
addressing well-being and argues against the isolation of pathologies from the
whole. Over time, social work has gradually embraced more of a holistic approach,
which is better suited for work with the multidisciplinary and wide range of
organizations often involved in social work practice.
There is a growing acknowledgment that many tragic and traumatic situations
involving children can be anticipated and prevented by the implementation of
effective public policies and social programs. This realization has shifted the
focus away from policies and practices predicated on crises and pathology to
those that embody normative well-being. We also understand that there is no single
pathway that threatens the well-being of children and youth. Rather, it is more
likely to be a number of traumas and adversities that jeopardize the well-being of
children and youth. This has led to new approaches in social work to prevent risks to
child well-being and to policies and practices that promote the well-being of
children, youth, and their families through a variety of services and benefits.
For example, the mission of child welfare has long been to protect and respond to
the needs of children who have been abused or neglected through services and
benefits offered in public and private child welfare agencies. More recently, social
work is moving beyond child welfare agencies to engage communities in the
prevention, protection, and nurturance of children (Pecora et al. 2009). Increasingly,
efforts are focused on developing collaborative community strategies that respond to
child maltreatment but emphasize preventative efforts (Pecora et al. 2009).
Child well-being and deprivation represent different sides of the same coin. Child
poverty, meaning children living in families with very low income – and the
15 Social Work and Child Well-Being 405
percentage of children living in such families – has received extensive attention

in recent years, by both the European Union (EU) and the Organization of Economic
Co-operation and Development (OECD) countries as well as UNICEF. Increasingly,
the development of public policies in both developed and developing countries
is framed in perspectives that go beyond the traditional focus on child protection
and income poverty. In particular, where social work is concerned, child rights,
social exclusion, and child and family policy perspectives are receiving
more attention.
From a child rights perspective, well-being can be defined as the realization
of children’s rights and the fulfillment of the opportunity for every child to be
all she or he can be. A rights perspective is consistent with the primary mission
of social work that seeks to enhance human well-being and help meet the
basic human needs of all people, with particular attention to the needs and empow-
erment of people who are vulnerable, deprived, disadvantaged, and live in poverty
(NASW Code of Ethics, Preamble 2008). Human rights in general and children’s
rights in particular are embedded in the core values of the social work profession,
such as social justice, equality, and empowerment (Hare 2004). Today,
both developing and developed countries increasingly consider the realization of
children’s rights when measuring the well-being of children. In contrast to
the development of policies in industrialized countries that were family
centered, child policy among developing countries has largely focused on
children and is dominated by a child rights perspective (Gatenio Gabel 2009;
Pemberton et al. 2005).
Among industrialized countries especially in the European Union, the well-
being of children is also increasingly seen as including the indicators of children’s
material situation. These may include the adequacy of housing, health, education,
subjective well-being and children’s relationships, civic participation, and
risk and safety, often placed within a broad-based perspective termed “the
construct of social exclusion” (Bradshaw 2006). Such a perspective involves
a multidimensional concept that includes economic, social, political, cultural, and
other aspects of disadvantage and deprivation and is often described as the process
by which individuals and groups are wholly or partly closed out from participation
in their societies because of low income and constricted access to employment,
social benefits, and services, as well as other aspects of cultural and community life
(Kahn and Kamerman 2002). Social exclusion is also consistent with social work’s
concern for social justice and commitment to improve people’s lives by
empowering people who are vulnerable, deprived, disadvantaged, and live in
poverty (NASW Code of Ethics, Preamble 2008).
Child and family policies are another strategy for improving the well-being of
children and affect the practice of social work by shaping how social issues are
viewed and what are deemed as appropriate societal responses. The term is used to
describe those public policies, such as laws, regulations, and administrative poli-
cies, that are designed to affect the situation of children, families with children,
individuals in their family roles, and those that have clear albeit unintended
consequences for such families.
15.3 Child Rights
The establishment of juvenile justice systems can be viewed as an early means of

protecting and actualizing children’s rights. By removing children from adult
justice systems, young persons are afforded greater opportunities for reform and
can avoid being branded as criminals. But as Platt has argued in The Child Savers:
The Invention of Delinquency (1969), “the child savers should in no sense be
considered libertarians or humanists,” because the juvenile justice system these
reformers, many of whom were social work pioneers, created in the United States
purposefully blurred the distinction between delinquent and dependent young
people. Platt’s example also shows how social work practice can be challenged
by a rights-based approach. The result of blurring the distinction between the two
systems was that dependent children were labeled delinquents, and since they had
committed no crime, they had not been tried in court. In effect, the juvenile justice
system robbed these young persons of their rights to due process. The state and
various religious organizations were given open reign to define delinquency as they
saw fit. Children who failed to conform to normative roles were easy targets. For
example, parents were allowed to voluntarily commit their children to the Illinois
reform school with the consent of the school’s board of directors, and any “respon-
sible member of the community” could turn in young women who were viewed as
immoral (Platt 1965). Ironically, children had no means of redress.
T.H. Marshall identified three kinds of citizenship rights: civil or legal rights,
political or democratic rights, and social or welfare rights (Marshall 1950). The first
two of the three citizenship rights were largely addressed in the formation of
democracies in earlier centuries. Social or welfare rights largely originated in the
twentieth century through the social policies of welfare states that followed the
Second World War, by providing certain rights to social security, health care,
education, housing, social protection, and, for example, legal aid for the poor (Dean
2007). Governments, as duty-bearers, have the role of ensuring that its citizenry is
able to access and fulfill these rights. The vehicle for this is often social policy.
The Convention on the Rights of the Child (CRC) is the last of the United
Nations documents to articulate the rights of special groups. It has become an
essential tool to improve the conditions of children around the world (Himes 1995).
Many of the countries ratifying the CRC have incorporated its values in their
national plans, programs, and legislation to secure the rights of children in
a variety of areas, including education, justice, child protection, and health care.
For example, the CRC has fueled the enactment of new justice codes for children in
El Salvador, Peru, and Bolivia and in Mexico, Pakistan, and Tunisia. Laws were
modified to afford greater protection to young offenders based on the CRC (Earls
2011). The CRC was the impetus for the establishment of separate children’s
rehabilitation centers for children in Rwanda and for the rights of children to
express their views in court in France (Earls 2011).
The CRC seeks to protect children from exploitation and recognizes
a comprehensive list of rights and corresponding state obligations (Gerschutz and
Karns 2005). Whereas for most adults civil and political rights, what T.H. Marshall
labeled the first generation of rights, were generally not extended to children.
Children were more likely to benefit from social, economic, and cultural rights in
industrialized countries in particular, as social policies addressing rights to social
security, education, health, protection, housing, and social supports were created
with children as part of family units or in lieu of family when adult family members
were unable or unavailable to care for children. Arguably, the right of children to
participate in decisions affecting their well-being is one of the most far-reaching
aspects of the CRC. These rights acknowledge the citizenship rights of children and
represent a radical turn in our notion of children’s interests and capacities and more
generally in their status (Earls 2011). They articulate the legitimacy of children’s
engagement in civic and political societal responsibilities. Article 12 of the CRC
recognizes the right of a child to express his or her views freely in matters affecting
him or her and ensures that those views are given due weight in accordance with the
child’s maturity. Article 13, affirms the child’s right to freedom of expression, to
seek, receive, and impart information; Article 14, specifies the right of the child to
freedom of thought, conscience, and religion; Article 15, recognizes the rights of
the child to freedom of association and to freedom of peaceful assembly; and
Article 17, which guarantees the child’s access to information and material, espe-
cially those aimed at the promotion of his or her social, spiritual, and moral well-
being and physical and mental health.
The CRC includes provisions for the monitoring and enforcement of the CRC
standards which have proven to be a formidable task. Periodic reports on the status
of the Convention’s implementation are required and to be reviewed by the UN
Committee on the Rights of the Child. However, inadequate resources have ham-
pered the Committee’s ability to enforce timeliness and to sanction governments
thus compromising the effectiveness of the CRC (Gerschutz and Karns 2005).
The adoption of the UN Convention on the Rights of the Child (CRC) in 1989
has been a critical force in the development of explicit and implicit child and family
policies in developing as well as industrialized countries and placed children at the
center of many public policies (Gatenio Gabel 2009). The CRC represents a major
ideological shift in the way all signatory states formally regard the status and welfare
of children and youth and obliges these states to take all possible steps to legislate
what are deemed to be the inalienable social and legal rights of all children under
their jurisdiction. Countries that have ratified the CRC are thus duty bound to develop
laws, policies, and programs to protect children’s rights as a priority of governance.
Despite these laudable sentiments, the presence and efficacy of child policies across
countries is uneven and implementation has proven to be a formidable task, espe-
cially in poor countries where the institutions of governance are often weak and
under-resourced. As a result, the well-being of children has been compromised.
In embracing a rights-based approach, defining the well-being of children has
moved away from poverty measures of income and consumption (absolute and relative
poverty; cash and in-kind benefits) toward multidimensional measurements of child
well-being. In the developing world, one of the ways child well-being is measured is by
children’s access to basic human needs, including food, safe drinking water,
sanitation facilities, health, shelter, education, and information (Gordon et al. 2003).
In many countries today especially in the developing world, the CRC is the standard for
interventions undertaken by social workers who seek to mitigate social, economic, and
other inequities but can also be interpreted as a challenge to existing authority structures
and normative standards (Roose and De Bie 2008).
A rights-based approach poses a challenge to the way that social workers
practice because it calls upon social workers to go beyond being instruments of
the state to implement public policies affecting the care of children. Using a rights-
based approach in social work summons social workers to be critical of existing
practices and processes designed to enhance child well-being with an eye toward
whether the process and the goals lead to the realization of children’s rights. For
example, accepting and incorporating the citizenry rights of children goes beyond
most child and family policies in both industrialized and developing countries today
and is not fully incorporated in social work practice.
15.4 Social Exclusion
As indicated earlier, a social exclusion perspective involves a multidimensional

concept that includes economic, social, political, cultural, and other aspects of
disadvantage and deprivation and is often described as the process by which
individuals and groups are wholly or partly closed out from participation in their
societies because of low income and constricted access to employment, social
benefits and services, as well as other aspects of cultural and community life
(Kamerman and Kahn 2001).
A key component is the framing of an issue as social and community exclusion
rather than individual and personal culpability. (Kahn and Kamerman 2002).
Atkinson (1998) and Phipps and Curtis (2001) point out that social exclusion is
“something that happens to an individual rather than something that he or she
chooses.”
Social exclusion is also viewed by some as reflecting a concern with racism and
discrimination as possible causes as well as a concern that socially excluded
children may pose a threat to the future well-being of society if they grow up
with little stake in the existing order. While some policy scholars use the term
interchangeably with income poverty – or income poverty and unemployment – it is
increasingly distinguished from financial poverty and focused instead on the idea of
restricted access to civil, political, and social rights, and opportunities.
Social exclusion is particularly devastating for children, because if they encoun-
ter it when very young, it deprives them of essential experiences – including access
to health care and preschool education – that they need for a good start in life
(Bradbury and Markus 1999). Since first developed in France in the mid-1970s, the
concept of social exclusion has been increasingly used by the UNICEF Innocenti
Research Center in Italy, reports of the EU (Commission of the European Com-
munities 1997; Eurostat 2000), and more recently in the work of the OECD.
Applying the concept can reframe the discussion of child and family well-being
from a primary emphasis on the individual or the personal responsibility of a parent

to that of societal or social and community responsibility.
Like poverty, social exclusion does not arise from any single cause but rather
from several restrictions of civil, political, and social rights and severe disadvan-
tage. Although income and financial assets are still considered key elements in
achieving positive outcomes for children, the concept of social exclusion is not
primarily concerned with those elements (nor even with disability) but with the
broader range of capabilities people enjoy or fail to enjoy.
European scholars and policy makers have adopted the concept as a device that
goes beyond income poverty or to incorporate “poverty” approaches such as that of
Peter Townsend (1962) who saw poverty not only as the lack of resources but also
an inability, because of the lack, to participate in one’s own society. Some have also
linked it with the broader range of the capabilities approach developed by the
economist Amartya Sen (1993), which calls for efforts to ensure that people have
equal access to basic capacities, including integration into the community and
public life, self-respect, and human rights. In addition to the capacity to lead
a long and healthy life, people should be educated and have the resources needed
for a decent standard of living.
Most of the social work/social policy literature on social exclusion has been
addressed by policy scholars including Peter Townsend, David Gordon, and David
Piachaud. Nonetheless, there has been some work that focuses on social work
practice, often linked with the poverty and disadvantage literature. Michael Sheppard,
a British professor of social work, argued in his book that “social exclusion is
a subject of major emphasis in contemporary social work and has become a core
feature of social policy development in IHE-UK” and, furthermore, that the issue is
“at the heart of social work theory and practice.” (Sheppard 2006).
Ultimately, our concern is with the conditions under which children flourish and
what it takes to achieve these conditions. Just as with regard to the concept of child
rights, what does the concept of social exclusion add to the discussion of and public
debate about child well-being? How does it help achieve the desired goals?
15.5 Child and Family Policy
A third strategy for strengthening social work’s role in enhancing child well-being
is applying the concept of family policy to policy, program and practice research,
and debate.
Family policy is a holistic approach to evaluating social policies affecting children
and their families. The term “family policy” was used first in European social policy
discussions to describe what government does to and for children and their families.
The term was used, in particular, to describe those public policies such as laws,
regulations, and administrative policies that are designed to affect the situation of
families with children or individuals in their family roles, and those that have clear,
though possibly unintended, consequences for such families. The characteristics of
family policy internationally are the following: first, that concern is for all children
and their families, not just poor families or families with problems, although these
and other family types may receive special attention and, second, an acknowledgment
that doing better by children requires help for parents and the family unit.
The increased attention to family policy in the social policy and social work
literature began largely in the 1960s and early 1970s and derives from the devel-
opments that either threatened the traditional family or were believed to do so
(Schorr 1968; Moynihan 1968; Kamerman and Kahn 1976).
As has been noted elsewhere, family policies may be explicit or implicit
(Kamerman and Kahn 1976; Kamerman 2009). Explicit family policy includes
those policies and programs deliberately designed to achieve specific objectives
regarding children, individuals in their family roles, or the family unit as a whole.
This does not necessarily mean general agreement as to the objective, but only that
the actions are directed toward the family. Nor does it require agreement on the
definition of family. There may be many different definitions.
Explicit family policies may include population policies (pre- or antenatal),
income security policies designed to assure families with children a certain standard
of living (cash or tax benefits), employment-related benefits for working parents,
maternal and parental leave policies, maternal and child health policies, child
care policies, and so forth. Implicit family policy includes actions taken in other
policy domains for nonfamily-related reasons which have important consequences for
children and their families as well, such as immigration policies or transportation.
Family policy is a subcategory of social policy and as such can be viewed as
a policy field, a policy instrument, or a criterion by which all social policies can be
assessed so as to their consequences for child and family well-being.
Family policy as a field includes those laws that are clearly directed at families,
such as family allowances, parental leaves, early childhood education and care, and
foster care and adoption policies. Family policy as an instrument may be used to
achieve objectives in other policy domains such as labor market or population
policy goals. Family policy as a perspective assumes that sensitivity to effects and
consequences for families informs the public debate about all social policies, for
example, income transfer policies (cash and tax benefits), parental leave policies
following childbirth, early childhood care and education, family law, family plan-
ning, personal social service programs, maternal and child health, and housing
subsidies/allowances. Critical to social work practice are policies that facilitate
normative living arrangements for children and the alternatives. Such policies seek
to protect children from harmful or exploitive situations but also prescribe parental
responsibilities and societal expectations of parenting.
Although initially developed as a European policy, family policy today is
a global concept, used in both the developed and developing countries, increasing
over time from a UN expert group in the 1980s, a European Union Observatory on
Family Policies in the 1990s to a conference in Hong Kong in 2008, a UN expert
meeting in Doha, Qatar, in 2009, and another meeting in 2010. The key criterion is
the presence of a child and the will and capacity of a society to invest in children.
Family policies have played a significant role in achieving countries’ desired
objectives, whether fertility related, employment related, helping to reconcile work
and family life, facilitating poverty reduction and the alleviation of social exclu-
sion, or linked to enhancing child well-being. For families to carry out their
traditional roles as well as new ones, they require help and support from govern-
ment as well as the various nongovernment organizations.
Because family policies are based in the particular social and cultural context of
a country, social work practice is more likely to reflect the culture, values, and
expectations of a particular culture rather than as a universal standard. Child
welfare policies are a good example of this. In most OECD countries, children
are removed from homes where parents have demonstrated an inability to protect
and nurture them and placed in foster homes, freed for adoption, or if indicated,
placed in nonfamily residential alternatives as a last resort. In many other countries,
it is parents who, due to income constraints or inability to care for children with
special needs, turn children over to the state. Foster placements or freeing children
for adoption is not socially acceptable, and so far too many children are raised in
institutional settings. Social work is the dominant profession in countries that favor
homelike placements and in those that practice institutionalization. Likewise in
other countries, policies to protect children may not address child trafficking,
female genital mutilation, early marriage, child labor, and abuse – and social
workers would work within the constraints of these country-specific policies and
the services available to protect children.
15.6 Conclusions
Child well-being is defined differently by each of the three strategies discussed in

this chapter to affect child well-being. Each of the perspectives modifies the role of
social workers and their efforts to enhance child well-being.
The CRC does not only set a normative standard across the globe but has resulted
in a change in how policymaking is made within many countries. Child well-being is
a right and reaches far beyond notions of consumption needs. A rights perspective
views child well-being holistically and children as rights bearers. It imposes upon
governments the responsibilities of ensuring access and availability of resources
essential to the holistic development of children such as health care, income, educa-
tion, clean water and sanitation, protection from exploitation, and information about
one’s self and environment. The rights-based approach as articulated in the CRC goes
further and includes the right of children to express their opinions about what is in
their best interest. A rights-based approach challenges social workers to leave behind
needs-based approaches to child well-being and to advocate for not only services and
transfers that facilitate children’s development but also for the voice of children in
determining the goals of and resources needed for achieving the well-being of
children.
Social exclusion has become a paradigm for focusing on dysfunction. It is seen
as an improvement over “underclass” or “marginalized” or income poverty alone.
European scholars and policymakers including social workers have adopted it as
a policy strategy that goes beyond income “poverty” or incorporating alternative
poverty measures. This perspective advocates that the needs of all children be
addressed by policies developed to promote child well-being and that special efforts
be made to correct policies that do otherwise. It prioritizes the importance that the
well-being of all children be treated equitably and be represented in established
programs and services. Unlike the rights-based approach, it does not mandate that
children participate in the process, rather it emphasizes the best interests of all
children be represented. It falls to social workers to often evaluate the equitable
allocation of resources and speak on behalf of children who are marginalized or
neglected or severely disadvantaged.
Family policy is a holistic approach to evaluating social policies affecting
children and their families. In recent years many countries have explored special-
ized and innovative benefits and services designed to strengthen families, especially
those with children. There is considerable variation across countries and over time
with regard to public policies that respond to new risks and continuing problems,
for all children as well as those especially disadvantaged. Social workers practice
within the context of the policies of the country. Unlike a rights-based approach,
social work practice from a family policy perspective is more grounded in the
cultural context of a country’s national social policies.
Family policy provides a framework for broadening the debate about child well-
being beyond protection and the reduction of income poverty to include children’s
rights and social exclusion.
In all three of these approaches, the challenge for social work is to go beyond
responding to narrowly defined social problems. Social workers often understand
the multidimensionality of social problems best because of their direct practice with
children and their families. Social work should be at the forefront of planning and
redeveloping benefits and services targeted on children and their families because
of their knowledge of the multidisciplinary, multiagency approaches across differ-
ent systems, and their understanding of the multifaceted causes of disadvantage and
deprivation among children.
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Children’s Well-Being and Politics
16
€nker
Jo Moran-Ellis, Anna Bandt, and Heinz Su
16.1 Introduction
The possibility of realising a fully democratic society relies not only on the actions
of all its adult members but on the optimisation of the capacities of children to
contribute too, both as children and in the future as adults. An essential underpin-
ning to this optimisation is that children enjoy a well-being in childhood in terms of
having a good quality of life (cf. Jack 2006; Dex and Hollingworth 2012), which
encompasses the social, cultural, emotional, and material dimensions relevant for
the viability of a fully participative democracy (cf. Bowles and Gintis 1987). If
Castells is right, then the future of the world relies not only on responsible
governments but on responsible, educated citizens (Castells 1998, p. 353), which
means that it is crucial that all citizens have a developed reflexivity, a sense of
responsible social judgement, and a political competence that supports action. (In
the German discussion, this is connected with the relationship between “Bildung
und Demokratie” (education and democracy) (cf. S€unker 2007).) In our view, this is
founded on the educational and social conditions of childhood that incorporate
processes of politicization and democratic participation for children (Moran-Ellis
and S€unker 2008; S€ unker 2012). The concept of politics that we have in mind here
is concerned with questions of power (related to class, gender, ethnicity, sexuality,
disability, and generation) and its distribution, hegemonic struggles, and “the
public” as a political space.
J. Moran-Ellis
Department of Sociology, University of Surrey, Guildford, Surrey, UK
A. Bandt • H. S€unker
Center for International Studies in Social Policy and Social Services, Bergische
Universit€at Wuppertal, Wuppertal, Germany

416 J. Moran-Ellis et al.
Processes of politicization in childhood are strongly mediated through what

Marx called the “mode of societalization,” which forms societies, and hence
through the relationship between structure(s) and human agency on the level of
everyday life. In “Grundrisse” Marx analyses historical epochs with respect to
different modes of societalization and concludes that:
Relations of personal dependence (entirely spontaneous at the outset) are the first social
forms, in which human productive capacity develops only to a slight extent and at isolated
points. Personal independence founded on objective (sachlicher) dependence is the second
great form, in which a system of general social metabolism, of universal relations, of all-
round needs and universal capacities is formed for the first time. Free individuality, based
on the universal development of individuals and on their subordination of their communal,
social productivity as their social wealth, is the third stage. The second stage creates the
conditions for the third. (Marx 1973, p. 158)
In contemporary industrialised and postindustrialised societies, children are the

only group in the population who live in conditions akin to the first stage
(feudalism), even whilst society is in the second stage (capitalism), i.e., they are
a group that is considered wholly dependent on others in a society that, at least at the
level of appearance, is based on independence. Because of this, the development of
children into adults has become a source of special interest for adults, even whilst
the restrictions that are attendant on and justified by children’s dependence has
severe consequences for their social and political development, and therefore for
society’s development too.
We take this contradiction as one of our starting points for the relevance of
studying children’s political development and the processes of politicization in their
lives. As Hatano and Takahashi argue on their concept of “societal cognition,”
a term they use to capture the idea of an individual being specifically able to
“understand” society in the cognitive sense and which we take to include the
acquisition of political understanding:
It is now time to direct greater attention to the study of societal cognition . . .. Theoretically,
from domain-specific perspectives and approaches, investigations into children’s societal
understanding have special significance to the extent to which societal cognition has unique
features (Hatano and Takahashi 2005, p. 288; cf. 292).
They make an implicit connection between levels of societal cognition and

well-being:
We have to study societal cognition to make the world a place where every human being
can live happily and can be treated with respect, care, and fairness, a goal that can be
achieved only when all children become economically and politically literate and respon-
sible citizens. We can educate such responsible citizens only when we understand the
pathways and mechanisms of the development of societal cognition. . .. When we succeed
in developing children’s societal cognition, we almost inevitably observe that the achieved
deep societal understanding is accompanied by emotion and morality (Hatano and
Takahashi 2005, p. 299).
In emphasizing ideas of fairness, human rights, social justice, and social welfare
as highly relevant to the fight against social inequalities – and we would add the
16 Children’s Well-Being and Politics 417
promotion of the well-being of all – Hatano and Takahashi (2005, p. 300)

sympathize with what Adorno discussed some decades earlier in “Education –
Which direction?”: the question of the need for a change in the relationship(s)
between education and reality. Adorno drew attention to the way in which
contemporary societal developments compel human beings to an appeasement of
reality and thus produce conforming individuals (Adorno 1982, p. 110). To fight
this production of conformity in institutions and relationships, especially in
schools – sites of particular levels of conformity as noted in more recent times by
Dreeben (1980), McLaren (1986), and Wexler (1992), amongst others – Adorno
argued for education that promotes resistance, starting in early childhood
(Adorno 1971, p. 110), based on his recognition of the relevance of political
education. The question of the production of conformity versus positive resistance
has also been a topic for recent cognitive developmental research (e.g., Haun and
Tomasello 2011).
The critical spaces in which the social and political development of children
takes place are embedded in their everyday life, in their interactions, and in the
institutions that regulate and order their lives since it is in these spaces that
“growing up,” in all its different meanings, occurs and in which children are
immersed in experiences that can engender or support political consciousness
raising or reinforce conformity as a social value. (As Bowles and Gintis (1987,
p. 204) argue: “Because the growth and effectiveness of democratic institutions
depend on the strength of democratic capacities, a commitment to democracy
entails the advocacy of institutions that promote rather than impede the develop-
ment of a democratic culture. Further, because learning, or more broadly, human
development is a central and lifelong social activity of people, there is no coherent
reason for exempting the structures that regulate learning – whether they be
schools, families, neighborhoods, or workplaces – from the criteria of democratic
accountability and liberty.”) In light of this, we approach the question of the
relationship between children’s well-being and the operation of politics
from the perspective of children’s own potential for political understanding and
action and the well-being that accrues from being an active participant in society.
To do this we first consider some research on the political development(s) of
children [with an acknowledgement of the significance of class, gender, (dis)ability,
sexual orientation, and age in children’s lives and in the structuring of their
childhoods] as framed by the idea of “societal cognition” (cf. Barrett and
Buchanan-Barrow 2005) but integrating that with consideration of the everyday
level of living as well as macrosocietal issues. Second, we draw on some early work
of Garbarino and Bronfenbrenner (1976) to analyse the relationship between
negative experiences and politicization and explore this via a study by Nelles
et al. (2007, 2011) that looked at the intergenerational effects of growing up in
Nazi Germany as a child of resistance fighters. This study revealed that the
children’s political development was compromised by their exposure to extremely
negative consequences of political actions during their childhoods, with the result
that in adult life they held a “societal cognition” that was antithetical to political
involvement for them.
16.2 Children and Society – Children in Society
Over the last two decades a strong sociological position in childhood studies has
been established that considers children as social actors with the capacity to be
agentic but which positions childhood agency as an interactional accomplishment
that rests on the intersection of individual cultural competences and
intergenerational and/or institutional positionings and interactions. (Adult agency
is an interactional accomplishment in the same way, but not necessarily embedded
in intergenerational relations, although it can be the case if generation is operating
in the form of “seniority” conferring greater power.) This position was summed up
by Hutchby and Moran-Ellis (1998) as a “competence-paradigm”:
Over recent years, what can be described as a “competence-paradigm” in the sociology of
childhood has emerged in a number of key publications (. . .). The main thrust of this
research is to take issue with the perspective on children and childhood propounded by
developmental psychology, and by socialization theory in mainstream sociology, in which
children are seen as the objects of overarching social processes by which they move from
being non-adults to being adults. Without denying that human beings develop over time and
in describable ways, nor that appropriate social behaviours are learned and not natural, the
competence paradigm seeks to take children seriously as social agents in their own right; to
examine how social constructions of “childhood” not only structure their lives but also are
structured by the activities of children themselves; and to explicate the social competencies
which children manifest in the course of their everyday lives as children, with other
children and with adults, in peer groups and in families, as well as the manifold other
arenas of social action (Hutchby and Moran-Ellis 1998, p. 8; cf. James and Prout 1990).
This stands in contrast to conventional research into children’s lives and devel-
opment which has been occupied largely with concerns about how children become
adults, with an emphasis on anxieties about the difficulties and problems adults
have in their interaction with children. The shift in the research agenda to under-
standing children’s lives from their perspective and considering their subject
positions as social actors (initially established in the UK as a paradigm shift by
James and Prout in 1990) paralleled other changes that sought to place greater
emphasis on children’s perspectives and their place as social actors alongside
adults. One example of this is the UN Convention on the Rights of the Child
(1989), as well as various pieces of legislation in different European countries
which have framed children as participants and subjects in their own lives (Buehler-
Niederberger 2010; Moran-Ellis 2010). This has often led to debates about society’s
role with respect to child protection or children’s rights, couched within specific
ideas of a politics of childhood that treats adults and children as two distinct groups.
These debates and agendas are also significant for academic approaches to political
socialization and processes of political development in childhood. The agency
approach questions the emphasis on socialization and development which has
permeated much research into children as political agents, arguing instead for an
appreciation of children’s own subjectivities. However, little has been done with
this to date with respect to their being political actors, as we show later, despite the
implications this has for advancing our understandings of politics, democracy, and
society.
We also seek to problemize here the concept of political socialization and how it
relates to questions of politicization, political development, and the notion of
politics itself in relation to children. Political socialization has been a dominant
concept over many decades in research on young people and politics, although early
recognition of this bias had little impact on research agendas (cf. Marsh 1971).
Early work on political socialization was strongly influenced by functionalist
theories and thus considered existing forms and structures of society as inevitable
for a functioning society and hence desirable and legitimate. As Sigel put it, writing
from a consensus theory perspective (Mann 1970): “Every society that wishes to
maintain itself has as one of its functions the socialisation of the young so that they
will carry on willingly the values, traditions, norms and duties of their society”
(Sigel [1965] 2009, p. 19). Within this perspective the key questions addressed
empirically and theoretically were those to do with children’s learning processes,
the transmission of norms, and what influences or alters these. Alternative political
stances produced other theories and political agendas. For example, some emerged
as an answer to crises like the Holocaust and/or the aftermath of World War II,
whilst others arose out of direct challenges to oppression and inequality from social
movements such Feminism, the 1968 student protests, and the gay liberation
movement. With respect to the question of a politics that made the Holocaust
possible, Adorno wrote:
The premier demand upon all education is that Auschwitz not happen again. Every debate
about the ideals of education is trivial and inconsequential compared to this single ideal:
never again Auschwitz (Adorno [1966] 1982, p. 88).
For Adorno, the necessary role of education in this context was to provide an
“education to maturity.” Taken together with other challenges to the politics of
oppressive and unequal societies, such sociocritical approaches are characterised
by the aim of paying attention to the social circumstances and life situations in
which children grow up, and not taking them as a given. This aim has a long
history and can be traced to concerns about how oppressive regimes are able to
flourish in apparently democratic societies. As far back as the 1930s a number of
studies focused on researching whether, and how, political socialization was
correlated with political awareness and class status (cf. Wacker 1976). With the
rise of fascism in Europe, this agenda was interrupted but was taken up again in
the 1970s when attention again turned to the relative importance of political
socialization, albeit led largely by research in the US that worked primarily with
an emphasis on the “. . .early affective identifications of children with political
authorities and institutions as well as national symbols” (van Deth et al. 2011,
p. 149) rather than a question of if and how critical political judgements emerged
in childhood.
In contrast to this general trend toward analysing and describing the emergence
of political conformity, Greenstein’s early empirical work on children and politics
examined the ways in which their social class location related to their political
knowledge and knowledge development (Greenstein [1965] 2009, p. 57). This
groundbreaking work showed that in terms of ideas of political authority, the
affective dimension was highly significant. This challenged the emphasis put on the
role of cognition since some of the early learning processes involved in political
socialization cannot specifically be identified or classified as political learning.
Ohlmeier (2006) has adopted this differentiation in his work, and he also follows
Claußen’s proposition (1996) that all learning processes related to power, authority,
or public institutions constitute political socialization, extending it to include
the “development of politically relevant structures of consciousness”
(Ohlmeier 2007, p. 54) as influenced by mass media, school, or political under-
standing in the family (cf. Ohlmeier 2007, p. 61).
Political socialization then extends beyond the cognitive aspects of understand-
ing authority structures. It encompasses affective relations to political authority,
notions of certain forms of consciousness concerning those structures, and
a concept of “authority” that covers power and institutions as well as explicitly
political domains.
Sitting alongside the question of political socialization is the question of becom-
ing a “political subject.” There is a common assumption that children occupy
a private sphere prior to entry into schooling and as such are insulated from the
power and politics of the world and lack political subjectivity until they reach
adolescence. However, recent research shows this not to be the case. The process of
becoming a political subject takes place as a constant process of dispute with and
dependence on the conditions in which children’s lives are embedded. Family,
school, media, and peers are effectively politicising realms and relationships.
Whilst there is considerable research that shows this empirically (see Claußen
and Geißler 1996; Barrett and Buchanan-Barrow 2005), the problem still remains
that this model of an active “reality processing” subject (Hurrelmann 1994) does
not address how the various components relate to each other and why certain
components become relevant for the human subject and others do not. Nonetheless,
children clearly encounter and apprehend questions of power and authority, and of
norms and values, and from an early age perceive them as legitimate or illegitimate,
thus demonstrating their political subjectivity in terms of being “politically aware”
if not “politicised.”
The significance of children living in contradictory circumstances in the devel-
opment of political awareness was flagged several decades ago in the work by
Garbarino and Bronfenbrenner (1976) on the development of children’s moral
judgement. They took as their starting point the challenge of reconciling two
ways in which moral judgement had been theorized: firstly, Kohlberg’s proposition
that it was formed through a series of developmental stages that were fixed in order
(reflecting a Piagetian approach to development) but which were stimulated by the
interplay of a process of maturation interacting with general environmental expe-
rience [Kohlberg (1969) cited in Garbarino and Bronfenbrenner (1976, p. 71)]; and
secondly, Bronfenbrenner’s own work which proposed that there were five main
types of moral judgement but that these were not developmentally ordered
(see Garbarino and Bronfenbrenner 1976, p. 71). The reconciliation proposed by
Garbarino and Bronfenbrenner was that processes of socialization affected
integration between a developmental set of processes out of which moral judgement

emerged and the different types of moral judgement. Specifically, they saw
a hierarchy of development that comes about through the interaction of what they
call “maturing capacities” (p. 72) and the characteristics of the milieux the child
encounters and in which they are embedded. They see these milieux as social and
cultural and hence varying across cultures and within cultures. Consequently, they
argue, children’s moral development optimally emerges in contexts where the child
encounters contradictions and diversity of positions since these are the situations in
which the child is faced with having to make choices because more than one
judgement is possible. Garbarino and Bronfenbrenner argue for a pluralism of
both people and contexts in children’s lives as these will be associated with
different expectations, rewards, and sanctions that maximise the chances for the
child to consider how to resolve competing social loyalties and contradictory
situations. They do, however, also identify that there are problems where there is
insufficient diversity or contradiction (and they propose that this can be linked to
the emergence of highly conformist political regimes at a societal level) or where
the contradictions are overwhelming. They propose that foundationally the child
needs to be in a relatively secure environment and to enjoy a good degree of
freedom of thought to be able to deal with the contradictions they encounter. In
effect, there should be contradictions between the views and possibly the actions of
family, parents, peers, other key adults since these stimulate critical reflection, but
not so much that the tension in social loyalties is unmanageable at the affective and
cognitive levels. As Almond and Verba (1963) (cited in Garbarino and
Bronfenbrenner 1976) point out, too much diversity coupled with too little consen-
sus can be politically “disintegrative” with very negative consequences for the
individual and for society in that the outcome can be alienation, apathy, or
absolutism.
Garbarino and Bronfenbrenner’s work provides a useful platform for thinking
about the politicization of children and their political subjectivities. However,
focusing as they do on socialization as the process that links development of
judgement and types of judgement, their analysis shares the same problem that
most socialization work suffers from which is that the child is still largely absent as
an active social actor in the process. The contradictions the child faces may arise
from their own experiences of interactions and events that are underpinned by
unequal power relations or are moments of exercise of power by one party over the
other. Later in this chapter we look at a series of such encounters and consider how
the child’s own position as a social actor and an agent is featured in relation to
politicization and the emergence of political consciousness.
However, first there is the question of how to theorise children’s political
subjectivity. If politics is considered to be the outcome of the relationship between
the individual and society in the context of power relations, how society and the
individual are understood ontologically is key. However, there are many different
approaches to the specification of this ontology and the relationship between human
beings and society. As Geulen and Veith put it, “[t]here are differences in
conception with respect to terminology, methodology, focus of research as well as

regarding systems of theoretical reference, axiomatic and content-related basic
principles” (Geulen and Veith 2004, p. VII). Within different theories, the building
of the relationship between the newly born child and society is conceptualised
variously as socialization, enculturation, education, individuation, personalization,
politicization, and/or human subject development, with all of these terms rooted in
a specific theoretical tradition and covering different aspects of the relationship of
person and society. For example, societalization in Marx’s work is an overarching
concept that incorporates the historical development of society and the individual
(cf. Gestrich 1999), whilst in Parson’s formulation, it is a process that brings the
child into a pre-existing and functioning society as a conforming member. The
Marxist concept includes the historicity of society and at the same time emphasizes
the dialectics of the relationship between person and world, since a materialistic
perspective positions the individual as the producer as well as the product of
societal relations (cf. Marx 1845; Marx and Engels 1969). The conventional
Parsonian approach lacks a historical consciousness and poses a passive absorption
of norms and values (Alanen 1988; Blitzer 1991).
In addition to the different formulations of socialization by different theoretical
perspectives on the relationship between the individual and society, traditional
ideas of socialization processes have been challenged through empirical work and
conceptual development, with a consequent shift from a one-sided focus on the
significance of educative processes for adaptation to society by the individual
(Durkheim 1922), to the presumption of an active reality-processing subject
(Hurrelmann 1994). Further challenges from within the sociology of childhood
have addressed socialization as a dynamic interaction (Alanen 1988; Blitzer 1991)
as well as refuted its positioning as the key process by which children (come to)
have a relationship with society (Hutchby and Moran-Ellis 1998; James and Prout
1990; Lee 1998). In addition, the concept of “societalization” (Buehler-
Niederberger and Suenker 2012) has been used to frame the relationship between
children and society in ways that move beyond notions of children “becoming”
cultural subjects.
Taken together, the reframing of children as social actors, the recognition of the
significance of historicity and materialist relations, and the enlarging of what is
conceptualized as politics to capture power relations and authority across the
domains of children’s lives reveal the need to excavate below the surface the
relationships of individuals and society, and to incorporate analyses of the historical
development of these relations, including the relevance of dependency, for deter-
mining the relationship between the individual and society at any given moment.
Although relationships of dependency are clearly and precisely visible with respect
to adults as wage-earners in capitalist relations, it is evident that children’s lives are
also affected by similar social constraints of dependency, depending as they do on
adults living within these structures. This requires analyses of children’s lives, in
this case of the relationship between their experience of circumstances that deter-
mine their levels of well-being and their position as political subjects, which do not
depict societal relations as naturalised or reduced to social aspects.
16.3 Human Subject Development as Processing of

Contradictions
In contrast to classical theories of developmental psychology on the development of

children and based on the cultural-historical psychology of Vygotsky (see Keiler
2012), Holzkamp (1985) conceptualised development not as a process of intrapsy-
chic maturation nor a result of teaching and learning (processes), but instead as
a process of actively dealing with one’s environment. This is key to understanding
the relationship between children, well-being, and politics. For all people, at all
times and in all parts of their lives, acting involves taking hold of an environment
that was created and altered by others before and mobilizing material, social,
cultural, and cognitive resources within structural constraints and affordances to
effect an outcome against pressures to conform and acquiesce. When such action
facilitates increases in competence, knowledge, or personal capacity to act, one can
say “development” has occurred. From this perspective, development is the out-
come of a processing of the contradictions that arise from actively dealing with the
human-created world. Holzkamp frames development as a “need” for an
“expansion of consciously anticipating control over living conditions” (Holzkamp
1979, p. 10). As the development of children in particular takes place within the
relation between subjective possibilities and restrictions, an analysis of the contra-
dictions between the perceived view of oneself and the world and imaginable but
not yet realised possibilities is needed. Even though children live within society
from birth, they have to fulfill certain processes of appropriation and consciousness
in order to be agentic in their societal relations.
Although the initial development of children takes place largely within the
domain of the family sphere, and the degree to which this is a private and closed
sphere is rightly contested (see Mayall 1993; Lee 2001), this dominant domain does
not stand outside society and societal relations for the child are “not suspended at
any time in ontogenesis, [. . .] they are present for the child from the first day of his
[sic] life” (Holzkamp 1985, p. 458). These wider societal relations manifest par-
tially as the restrictions and tensions that adults live with “between meeting
requirements and realising subjective aspirations for life and happiness” (Holzkamp
1997a [1980], p. 103), for example, as a result of the demands of paid work,
unemployment, care work for others, and/or domestic work or from having their
own care needs. The importance of these restrictions and tensions in shaping
children’s lives, the ecology of their social and material living spaces, and processes
of development are mediated through the impact these have on adults’ own
capacities to be agentic.
Because children are located in living environments initially created by adults
and/or older siblings, they experience the world in a nonspecific way at first, i.e.,
apparently detached from historically created work ability and the objectified
intentions of adults. Arguably, this means that children experience their early
living conditions as “natural.” Holzkamp assumes that one of the essential aspects
in socialization is the acquisition of social intentionality and a sense of
the generalised usefulness of objects. Generalised usefulness comprises the
historicity, that is, the manufactured and utility-related functionality, of things for
particular purposes. We set alongside this the concept of “affordances,” which can
be loosely understood as the unintended functions to which material objects can
be put or for which they can be utilised. Social intentionality occurs on an
interpersonal level and means that (adult) humans act purposefully and reasonably
and are influenced by emotions (even if these are partly unconscious processes).
From a comprehension of intentional interpersonal relationships, the child can
infer the objectified usefulness of objects. A prerequisite for this is realising
personal social intentionality.
While all occurrences in the environment must initially appear as “unspecific
natural occurrences,” the child increasingly learns from her/his own actions, including
how to influence and later to intentionally direct adults, e.g., through crying because of
hunger. This signal-induced communication lays the foundation for subsequent inten-
tionality. Adults (and others such as siblings or peers) coordinate their actions based
not only on audible or visible communicative expressions but also on their own
intentions and the intentions they expect or suppose in others. They therefore act
aware of the fact that not only they have intentions but that others have them too.
This intentional reference to others and the possibility of acquiring the histori-
cally developed functionality of things has been demonstrated by Tomasello (1999)
in work which shows that even very young children cooperate under certain
conditions. He argues that this demonstrates an intrinsic propensity towards
a mutuality that recognizes situations of “mutual dependency” (Tomasello 2011)
and for which mutual help (Tomasello 2011) is a response. This suggests that the
human ability to cooperate is realized under certain societal conditions or is
inhibited under those who value competition. This has an important bearing on
understanding political socialization and political development as historically and
situationally located.
A further factor to be considered is the role of contradictions. Under Holzkamp’s
theory, which differs from that of Garbarino and Bronfenbrenner in that it places
more emphasis on both cognition and power relations and less on socialization, the
driving force for a child’s development comes from the contradiction that arises
between the desire to “grow up” in order to gain more control over the conditions of
fulfilling one’s needs, and the experience of restrictions in the realisation of this
control when the child sees adults to be much more independent in comparison. The
child seeks to solve this experience of contradiction, and when children are able to
assess why others do something or not do something and can evaluate the emotions
and intentions of others, their living conditions become more controllable. As
children’s lives expand in radius over the course of their childhood, e.g., by
attending kindergarten or other gatherings with unfamiliar children and/or adults,
children experience new contradictions in societal relations and relationships as
well as encounter familiar ones that arise out of intergenerational relations within
specific cultural framings. New contradictions create new development, some of
which will relate to power and authority structures. Hence, a politics of self and
other and of self and society (however broadly or narrowly “society” is
apprehended) can begin to emerge.
For instance, a child learns that a shopkeeper does not give products to someone
on the basis of liking them but sells them to that person for money, and that the sale
is essential to the shopkeeper to earn money to survive. The motivation of the
salesman is then not a social one, as might first be perceived by the child, but
originates from the necessity to earn his living and so it is societally directed.
The relations are not directly understandable as they are not directly visible but
instead are mediated, i.e., caused by specific inherent necessities that dominate over
possible social motives. To be able to realise societal mediation in the abstract, one
has to consciously extend previously imagined ideas of social cooperation. It is not
a social relation that determines survival but a societal one. If the shopkeeper gives
something to the child without asking for money, the child is simply lucky and
cannot rely on the same thing happening next time. To gain the desired product
a second time, the child has to bring money to pay for it. Without an understanding
for social relations within society, the step towards understanding, i.e., the realisa-
tion of, societal mediation is not possible.
An unexpected contradiction can arise, however, where the child is not allowed
to buy the product even if it possesses the money to do so. In this case, the law may
intervene to restrict the child’s occupation of the role of consumer of say alcohol,
tobacco, or sexual products. The child then has to understand the politics of age and
consumption to resolve this contradiction or look for an ally to subvert the restric-
tion or confound the application of the law.
In this model of development through the experience of contradictions in their
societal context, society can be understood as the mediation of human relations and
their codetermination by individual, societal order, power, and structures. Assuming
that an adequate appropriation of these relations helps children orient themselves in
society and develop a reasonable concept of society, learning that societal mediation
occurs is essential for being able to comprehend life and its relations thoroughly and
not merely from appearance. Looking at life just from appearance suggests a greater
dependence on and helplessness with given conditions, whereas understanding
societal relations, among them the seemingly self-evident act of buying something
or not being allowed to do so, as the product of humans and therefore changeable will
extend children’s agency and thinking ability and the possibility to influence their
own life. Contradicting experiences can be personalised and perceived and processed
as intrapsychic conflicts between different possibilities or they can form new learning
experiences that lead to a critical perspective towards societally suggested interpre-
tations. Within certain moments this can be the basis for political development.
16.4 Research on Political Socialization as Political Knowledge
With respect to young people, Tudor remarked that “it is surprising that so little
work has been done on the development of class awareness” (Tudor 1971, p. 470).
Forty years later van Deth reached a similar view, saying that “empirical research
on political orientations of young children remains scarce” (van Deth et al. 2011,
p. 148). Kr€uger and Pfaff (2006) have also noted that political socialization has
tended to be limited to looking at the period of adolescence rather than earlier in

childhood. However, this is not to say that there has not been a relevant body of
work. Since the turn of the century, research on political socialization has generated
some important findings on the issue of children and politics (cf. Bock 2000; Fried
and B€ uttner 2004; Moll 2001; Reinhardt and Tillmann 2001; Connolly et al. 2002;
G€otz 2003; Connell 2004; Kr€ uger et al. 2006). Research that challenged the
assumption that children were unable to talk about complex matters such as
economy (cf. Feldmann 2002; Webley 2005) or the relation between poverty and
wealth and therefore social class (cf. Ramsey 2004; Emler and Dickinson 2005)
showed throughout that children can refer to complex issues and have a concept of
and opinion on them at a much younger age than was assumed in other work. This
has been confirmed more recently in the study “Children and Politics,” which was
centred on children’s political knowledge in Germany and is discussed here in some
detail (van Deth 2007) (The work was done by a research group guided by van Deth
and included Abendsch€ on, Tausendpfund, and Vollmar).
The study “Children and Politics” fills in a “blank spot on the map” (van Deth
2007, p. 7) of the political socialization of primary school children. A broad-based
study that included about 700 children, it showed that children starting primary
school (around 6 or 7 years of age) already possessed considerable political
knowledge and political attitudes and were willing to express them when asked.
Specifically, the vast majority of children had heard of unemployment (81.5 %),
migration (88.9 %), and although the topic of terrorism was less familiar, it was
a term known by 58.5 % of the children interviewed (Tausendpfund 2008, p. 7).
Whilst the van Deth study focused on macrotopics of societal concern, it is also
important to differentiate topics and terms that are important to children and those
that are not. Abendsch€on and Vollmar note that “children [have] all it takes to become
capable young citizens; with their pre-suppositional political knowledge, their interest
and their enthusiasm they can express their opinions and attitudes” (Abendsch€on and
Vollmar 2007, p. 223). However, they also note that for the majority of children
involved in their study, “the terms ‘political parties’ or ‘politicians’ meant nothing at
the beginning or at the end of class one” (Abendsch€on and Vollmar 2007, p. 223).
Looking at power issues important to children, work by Connolly (1995) on
young children and racism and research by Renold (2000) into homophobia in
children’s lives in primary school both show that children are subject to, and
mobilise for themselves, oppressive power relations in their peer groups and in
their intergenerational interactions. This is further reflected in what empirical work
and theoretical approaches to the issue of bullying have shown (Davies 2011),
as well as research into the lives of disabled children (Davis and Watson 2001).
In the playground and in the classroom setting, and most likely in other realms of
their lives, the macrostructures of power, organized normatively around sexuality,
ethnicity, disability, and gender which produce inequalities, disadvantages,
and discriminations, are mediated through social interactions to generate
a politics of early school life of which the children themselves are aware, as
the empirical work cited here shows. Thus, the question of children’s “political
knowledge” is not just one of the extent to which children are aware of and have an
understanding of political structures and civic relations (important as these are), it is

also a question of the ways in which children know about the politics of discrim-
ination, because they experience it first hand as recipients and/or perpetrators.
These differences create, sustain, and at times normalise unequal distributions of
power with all the disadvantages that create material situations which are contrary
to well-being.
A central question remains, however, as to how children can be supported in
developing capacities to identify societal misappropriations and resist societal
demands (cf. Adorno 1971). These capacities are key to understanding that differ-
ent options of acting or thinking are possible, or that they are able to create those
options in the face of pressure to conform and conserve. This is considered difficult
even for adults. The challenge of enrolling children in the exercise of these
capacities as part of the process of embedding the capacity to act lies in not
sustaining the idea that children inevitably lack comprehension, experience, or
competence to perceive power relations and inequalities, since this essentialisation
of their incapacity serves to restrict them as effective actors. Being “different” to
adults should instead be thought of as a different standpoint towards life with all the
possibilities that entails. Ultimately, the limitations in children’s development arise
mostly out of the frameworks adults provide for children.
This change of perspective may take place if children are not ‘brought up’ but
rather life is shared with them. This would include laying open the difficulties and
contradictions adults themselves have facing societal conditions and showing the
ambiguities and limitations of life without naturalising these or treating them as
a pedagogic issue. This way, children can learn that adults are at times in doubt
about what do, and that knowing something is a process of evaluating different
options rather than being about the possession of a “truth.” Intersubjective com-
munication, especially the questions children ask from their standpoint in the world,
plays an important part here, because only when “children learn to keep asking
intensively enough, [can] they break the illusiveness and incomprehensibility of
established living conditions, clearly recognise their interests and fight for their
realisation” (Holzkamp 1997b [1983], p. 154). In this way, facing contradictions
and not “explaining” them away enables children to have their own experiences and
prompts adults to be open to their questions.
Our argument then is that for children to thrive they should be able to participate in
the life of their society, including in the democratic life. Their ability to do so can be
fundamentally entwined with the processes of growing up if the conditions in which
they live facilitate and support that. This means that their competences are recognized
and incorporated into the fabric of their everyday lives, and that their competence as
political actors (positively or negatively in terms of resistance to power relations that
generate inequalities and discrimination, or the perpetration of these power-led oppres-
sions) is taken for granted on the one hand, and supported in development to positive
outcomes at an individual level and on a societal level on the other. The paradoxes and
contradictions that children encounter provide the seedbed of the emergence of
political consciousness. Thus, we do not consider well-being here in material terms
but in terms of opportunities for growth and development as social actors.
16.5 Compromised Well-being and Political Antithesis
Holzkamp’s work on the role of contradictions in the development of a politics of

self and other and of self and society was concerned with the child somewhat
abstracted from their sociocultural contexts. Van Deth’s work was concerned with
how children apprehend what is going on at a general societal level (although this
does not exclude children being marked by macroevents such as unemployment,
terrorism, and so on). Both offer very important insights into children’s political
subjectivities and the processes by which these arise and change. However, we
return to the work of Garbarino and Bronfenbrenner (1976) since they focused
more on the sociocultural milieux within which children operated, including
examination of the relation of the degree of pluralism in children’s lives to
macro-level political outcomes such as the installation of and support for mono-
lithic power regimes and fascism by the wider population. As Garbarino and
Bronfenbrenner pointed out, drawing on work by Almond and Verba (1963), there
are circumstances in which the imbalance between contradictions and consensus
is overwhelming and politically paralysing. If well-being can be understood in
these respects as living in conditions in which one is free to think and to explore
different ways of understanding the world and one’s own life within it, and for
children this means living in family circumstances and encountering schooling
structures that support critical thinking, then an absence of those conditions will
have consequences for politicization in childhood and the establishment of
a political subjectivity. A study by Nelles et al. (2006, 2011), in which adults
who were the children of resistance fighters in Nazi Germany were interviewed
about their experiences as children and their later lives as adults, provides
considerable insight into the effects of childhood conditions that are ruled by
terror and disintegration of self or others through fear and violence. Parallel
conditions can be found in childhoods lived in political regimes that rely on terror
and violence and where children grow up in households and institutions domi-
nated by extensive violence and oppression (Stalinism, Franco’s Spain, Salazar’s
Portugal, China, Latin American dictatorships like Chile and Argentina, South
Africa under apartheid). We are not arguing here that children do not emerge as
political actors out of such conditions but that they do so out of circumstances
which can also be antithetical to that.
The study “Children of Resistance Fighters” sought out adults who had at least
one parent who had been a resistance fighter in Germany during the Nazi period and
the children themselves had been born between 1913 and 1939. The majority of the
adults who took part in the study had been born between 1919 and 1939 and so were
part of that generation of young people known as the “Hitler Youth Generation.”
Nazi Germany on the whole can be characterised by a politics of terror and
containment, torture and promises, genocide, and seduction (cf. Evans 2003; Mason
1995; S€ unker and Otto 1997). Even so, people became resistance fighters within
German society at that time, and a high percentage of those who did came from the
working class and hence from the labour movement, their parties, and trade unions,
whilst others took up positions of resistance as religious opponents of the Nazi
regime. A significant number of these resistance fighters were also mothers and
fathers. This fight, and the persecution of the fighters, had significant consequences
for their children. The researchers used interviews and analyses of official records
and other forms of documentation to explore the adults’ accounts of their childhood
experiences of their parent(s)’ resistance and subsequent persecution and punish-
ment (which took various forms, from detention to murder and execution). The
scope of the research was wide ranging and looked at whether children became
secondary victims of the coercion directed by Nazi terror organisations and
state institutions against their parents, particularly in relation to the economic,
social, cultural, and judicial dimensions of their lives, as well as the direct and
indirect impact of the persecution of the parents on the children’s everyday life.
This included questions about whether they experienced discrimination and exclu-
sion within their living conditions or whether they experienced solidarity with
others such as within their peer group, on the streets, in their neighbourhoods, or
in school. The overarching question was how the children worked through these
experiences and dealt with the threats and terror that stalked their lives at the time,
and what the lifelong outcomes or impact of these experiences had been from their
point of view.
The interviews took place 60 or more years after the events but they gave deep
insight into the effects of growing up in those circumstances. A recurrent and clear
finding was that in many cases the father and/or mother came back from detention
completely changed. In Wuppertal, for example, being caught by the SA (Storm
Troopers) or the Gestapo was often associated with substantial violence or torture.
This affected the children who experienced their parent(s) returning home from
detention as broken human beings. One respondent returned over and over again in
the interview to this aspect of their experience: “My father had just totally
changed.” And later “In the beginning there was a lot of silence in our home.”
Reflecting on life as a child: “I got the impression that my mother had become even
stricter with us (. . .). I wasn’t allowed to do anything anymore.”
Although only a minority of parents talked openly or directly with their children
about their experiences, their torture, the children were still aware of it implicitly
from hearing their parent(s) scream in the night as they relived the torture and terror
in their nightmares. The children got the sense that the parent(s) had faced “horrible
experiences,” and when visiting the parents in jail (as was reported by some
respondents), some of them saw that their parents had considerably changed
physically and sometimes were mentally weakened. Family lives often became
burdened and subject to strong tensions as a result.
The personal and political development of these children was heavily marked by
and through these experiences, as well as by the threats to the lives of their parents
and their own suffering. In addition, what also became highly relevant for all of
them as adults in terms of their own political subjectivities was the reactionary
political culture and atmosphere that emerged in post-fascist Germany (in the
Federal Republic of Germany, FRG). The politics of post-fascism did not provide
any way to recognise those Germans who resisted the Nazi regime or the children
whose parents had fought against it other than the small group of resistance fighters,
composed of army officers, who on 20 July 1944 attempted to assassinate of Hitler

and carry out a military coup. (The attempt to assassinate Hitler and others and
stage an uprising by Stauffenberg and others failed. Nonetheless, this has been
celebrated over the decades as a significant act of heroism whilst the extent to which
many of these officers had previously supported Nazism in general and Hitler in
particular was glossed over.) This limited recognition reflected the class-based
nature of the resistance at the time, which was primarily a working class movement,
and class politics in the FRG paid homage only to the actions of the middle- and
upper-class army officers. This lack of recognition of the resistance fighters drawn
from the working class, from the labour movement, and from religious groups was
frequently cited by the research participants as the key reason they did not engage in
any politics in their adult lives. In fact, not only did a huge majority of the children
of resistance fighters decide not to be politically engaged, they also chose to live
very privately and not speak about their experiences or the effects they had on their
lives. This suggests that where conditions of violent oppression and nonrecognition
are joined together within a lifetime, the possibility of relief from the trauma
through recognition of childhood experiences of violence and suffering and the
possibility of later liberation from it through political engagement are severely
compromised.
16.6 Conclusion
Against the backdrop of the catastrophes of the twentieth century – dictatorships,

mass murder, and genocide – in many parts of the world, but especially in Germany
and the USSR, we want to bring to the fore the argument that democratization of all
areas of life would make a vital contribution to solving social problems by dealing
with the regulation of social life in a reasoned way and offering a “good life” for all.
The challenge is, as Bowles and Gintis state, to ensure that processes of
democratization can become concrete “through forms of human development,
solidarity, and political participation” (Bowles and Gintis 1987, p. 185).
Children are embedded in these processes and therefore it is relevant that they are
able to voice their (political) position and opinion. The challenge goes further,
however, because as Bourdieu puts it in regard to whether accruing educational
capital is sufficient for political engagement:
. . .it is much more necessary to have the feeling, be it socially scorned or supported, of
being entitled to concern oneself with politics; to be empowered to argue for the sake of
politics (Bourdieu 1984, p. 639).
This feeling of entitlement is not evenly distributed across the social classes.
Entitlement is intrinsic to being middle or upper class and this is evident even in
childhood. We would add that such feelings of entitlement are also distributed
along other orderings of social inequality (e.g., gender, ethnicity, age). Thus, the
constitution of political consciousness in general, which is foundational for social
judgements, and the competence of political action are based on both a wide
concept of politics and the recognition that participation – the heart of democracy –
is a performative act, i.e., the precondition and the outcome of political interests and
capabilities. It is necessary to emphasise this because as Bourdieu goes on to show
in his research on society, politics, and education, whilst everyone has the same
right to their personal/private/own opinion and to take up a political position,
“not everyone has got the means to use this formal universal right” (Bourdieu
2001, p. 89).
For children, these questions of means and entitlements may be even more
essential than for adults, especially given that the possibilities to change their
own lives tend to be limited, because as Liebel comments, “legal restrictions, and
societal structures and traditions place children amongst the least powerful groups
in society” (Liebel 2009, p. 96 ff).
Whether research on politics is done about children, with children, or from the
standpoint of children matters for the questions that are asked and the conclusions
that are drawn. This is especially important where children are living in social
structures that are based to some extent on generational ordering and therefore on
special forms of power relations, since in this form of society the view adults have
about children is a view of the more powerful towards the less powerful. This is not
to neglect the significance of societal order and the general living conditions of
children. Rather, it requires a set of questions that address both material conditions
and power relations in any enquiry into children’s lives, including being and
becoming political subjects. Making the link between children, their politicization,
and well-being is a complex task, but at the centre of it is a dynamic of children as
social actors, the presence of politics in their life-worlds, and the question of how to
realize the conditions under which they can contribute as political actors in their
childhoods and as adults.
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Mediated Well-Being from the Perspective
of Media and Communication Studies 17
Divina Frau-Meigs
17.1 Introduction
Of all the promises of old and new media, the most stimulating and yet the most
deluding one has been the possibility that they educate children; this is one way of
understanding well-being, as education is positively correlated with improved
self-image and enhanced potential for development and employment in adulthood.
This argument is fraught with ambiguities as this source of leisure and entertain-
ment has been construed as a source of learning, surreptitiously as it were. It has
been used to introduce media into the household where they have often replaced the
storyteller, if not the teacher. Such was the case with the early days of radio and
television that held the potential of bringing culture into the living room (Czitrom
1982; Tichi 1991; Spigel 1992); such was the case again with Internet services as
the computer was advertised as providing home access to the “tree of knowledge”
(Frau-Meigs 2011a).
In this perspective, the well-being of the child is narrowly reduced to the
potential for education and the advantages that such learning can provide for
the future adult. Such a premise encourages parents to adopt (new) media in their
homes, even though most well-being studies show that it hinges on strong family
and friendship relations and many outdoor activities, especially unstructured play
(see for instance Rideout et al. 2003; Whitaker and Burdette 2005; UNICEF 2007).
It also allows the media to accompany children in their development well into the
formative years of adolescence and, though media increasingly segment childhood
into different ages (children, pre-teens, teens), there is the shared feeling that they
establish some kind of continuity through mediated forms of communication.
Such an argument, however, is tarnished with the sense that the promise is not
D. Frau-Meigs
Media Sociology and English Department, University Sorbonne Nouvelle, PRES Sorbonne
Paris-Cité, Paris, France

438 D. Frau-Meigs
held, that media undermine family values, expose children to harmful content
and behavior and lure them away from their own culture to join a world
youth culture of consumerism around music and games that isolates them and is
deleterious to their well-being as it fosters anxiety and confusion (Valkenburg and
Cantor 2001).
Exploring the relationship between media and children, with well-being at the
centre, implies that one must consider what theories and major scientific research
perspectives have prevailed in the field as well as the epistemological and axiolog-
ical assumptions, with their internal consistency, evidence, results, and explanatory
and predictive power over time. It also requires one to posit the existence of
“mediated well-being” and to explore the transformations of such a concept from
early media studies (with a strong sociological component) to current multidis-
ciplinary communication studies applied to complex cross and mixed media such as
the Internet and its platforms (with a strong psychological and cognitive compo-
nent). Such a complex analysis is conducted by considering three types of contro-
versies around well-being in the media that have been dominant and have helped
build the field of media studies itself: effects versus uses, risk versus play, protec-
tion versus participation. These considerations lead to an examination of the main
methodological approaches and outline a research agenda for further exploration of
the relation between media and well-being.
17.2 Assessing the Context and Nature of Research on Children

and the Media in Communication Studies
When considering what scientific contributions media and communication studies

have brought to the understanding of children’s well-being, a paradox immediately
appears as, in many ways, it is this very question that has partly brought this field to
the fore, in academia as much as in public opinion. By contrast, the field has not
been using much research on well-being per se, and the two fields have ignored
each other until recent years, when the predominance of media in children’s lives
has been acknowledged by new childhood studies and issues of well-being have
been extended beyond physical considerations about health, safety and family to
incorporate cognitive dimensions such as social learning and self-perceptions of
well-being (Ben-Arieh 2008).
Initiated and conducted mostly in Western countries, media and communication
studies have been constructed as an interdisciplinary field, not a discipline per se;
this confers them a lot of flexibility while making them liable to many challenges as
other more “solid” sciences irrupt around their porous perimeter (psychology,
neurosciences, sociology and even history of ICTs). This budding field has been
constructed around two major tensions: the changing status of the child in modern
families and the changing status of media in democratic nations preoccupied with
freedom of expression and of diffusion.
The changing status of childhood is part of the general context of children’s
well-being. Ontological assumptions about children are very present and very
17 Mediated Well-Being from the Perspective of Media and Communication Studies 439
different according to the countries where the research is conducted. In some cases,
childhood is isolated from the other stages of youth development, whereas in others
it is included as part of “youth” or “minors” (i.e., children aged less than 18);
consequently, childhood tends to be diluted in research, which makes it difficult
sometimes to sort out discriminating results. And yet, the notion of childhood has
been complexified, to take into account several stages of youth development:
toddlers, children, pre-teens, teens and young adults (Wartella 2012; Montgomery
2001). The recent focus has been less on age than on abilities and competences,
with the understanding that youth can be considered as the stage of experimentation
of the acquisitions of childhood in terms of socialization and autonomy (Woodhead
and Montgomery 2003; Buckingham 2000b).
Research on childhood in the media has inherited from perspectives coming
mostly out of sociology, where the child was considered in relation to two
institutions, the family and the school. In many ways, the child was and still is
construed as the student or the learner, in a relationship of dependence on the
adult. The socialization of the child is mostly examined within the frame of these
institutions of social reproduction and how they take him or her in charge
(Sirota 2006). The more recent view of the child as an autonomous person,
endowed with agency, comes from the interdisciplinary field of childhood studies
(Woodhead and Montgomery 2003; De Singly 2004; Moore 2004). It incorporates
the media as part of this autonomy (telephone, the Internet), never far from the
material conditions that enable this autonomy (access to more money as a way of
being integrated in the consumer market). This analysis is further integrated in the
mutations of family styles, especially in relation to media consumption: families
are considered less and less authoritarian (media control by adults), and more and
more liberal (no control by adults) or participatory (negotiated control by adults
and children).
Within childhood studies, the equation may vary with the countries and regions
considered: the degree of autonomy and agency of the child can be fostered,
tolerated or denied; the belief in the creative genius of the child can be mitigated
by the need to educate him or her. The usual attributes of age are no longer
delineated just by physical development but also by areas of interest and emotions.
The boundaries of the body are also demarcated by moods, abilities and capacities
(De Singly 2004). Social, cultural and mental realities are more taken into account
thanks to neurosciences and social cognition. As a result, well-being has also been
enriched as a multidimensional construct, moving away from material and physical
dimensions to incorporate psychological and societal ones, in relation to education,
risk and, increasingly, young people’s own self-perception (Ben-Arieh 2008). In
relation to media, this construct implies the consideration of the emergence of
mediated well-being, as media intervene more and more in the ways children are
empowered or inhibited in their self-construction and social learning. This
emergence is confirmed by the fact that media have come to represent the second
most common activity of young people after sleep (1,500 h per year on average), far
ahead of time spent with teachers (830 h per year on average) and even parents
(50 h per year of quality time on average) (Frau-Meigs 2011b).
440 D. Frau-Meigs
As the boundaries of childhood are being renegotiated so are the boundaries of

media. The characteristics of media have evolved as they have become more and
more ubiquitous in the household and as many more combinations across media and
with mix media have become possible (especially with Internet). This complexity
has produced a qualitative shift in communication: more channels have led to more
decentralized distribution of messages; more options for the audience have
increased the interactions with communication processes; and ultimately with
digital media, more opportunities to modify format and content have allowed for
more autonomy and creativity (McQuail 1994). Media have added many
technological layers to their offering, going from terrestrial signal to satellite and
cable; they can combine mass communication (one to many) with interpersonal
communication (few to few), with options such as e-mail, discussion lists,
chat services, social networks; they have moved from mass scale (broadcasting)
to small scale (narrowcasting) to micro scale (e.g., microcasting such as blogging
and tweeting), and some already anticipate the nano scale of mediawares. They
have come to form a multimedia environment that children seem to navigate much
better than the adults, and they have moved from the living room to their own
“bedroom culture” (Bovill and Livingstone 2001).
A recurring pattern can be noticed as concerns mediated well-being: with each
new medium, the debate on harmful content and harmful behavior is reignited, via
media panics (defined as intense public concern over the media, conveyed by
the media themselves). The new program (e.g., reality programming) or the
new vehicle (e.g., Internet) is perceived as a risk for family patterns and main-
stream culture. In the USA, where such panics often start, this was so with the
Payne Fund studies on movies as early as 1933 and has continued ever since with
television and violence (Surgeon General’s report in 1973), Internet and
cyberpaedophilia with the Communications Decency Act in 1996. It seems that
the tension between ill-being and well-being is a legitimizing force for each new
medium. The issue of childhood and its stakes for society is mobilized to validate
new contents, new formats, new vehicles and new social practices that are of
interest to adults and to the media industry. At the same time, the perception that
mediated learning moves away from legitimate institutions such as the church,
school and family, to include media that do not present themselves as institutions
and socialize children without adult supervision, is not easily accepted by
communities of interest such as teachers or parents. As a result, they tend to
deploy means of slowing down media penetration and, within media corporations
themselves, the long-standing ones tend to invent legal and procedural tools to
decelerate the potential for disruption of the newcomer and take advantage of it
in the process (Frau-Meigs 2011a, b).
But varied as media may be, the communication process per se still depends on
societal, historical and personal situations. Media accompany the various impacts
of modernization on the individual and the family, be it industrialization, migration
and secularization. One of the major issues in democratic societies is to build
freedom of expression and of information. An informed public opinion is necessary
to ensure civil liberties that will lead to a voting citizenry. This strong connection
between media and citizenship has also led to an increased fight against censorship,
to promote transparency and access. The general well-being of society has
been predicated on media freedoms and rights, especially for voting adults
(around 18 years old). This can sometimes run counter to children’s expected
well-being because their early exposure to all sorts of content and mediated conduct
can be perceived as inhibiting their own civic agency.
So it is within these social boundaries that research has been permitted to evolve.
At the intersection of these two tensions, the media research community has been
allowed to focus on minors rather than adults, on risk (of harmful behavior) rather
than censorship. As a result such research has always been the butt of a lot of public
scrutiny, if not controversy, especially as it has led to policymaking decisions, about
programming, advertising, content classification, industry self-regulation, media
education, etc. The social repercussions of such research are part and parcel of the
research itself, as they have spun a whole new cycle of inquiry (evaluating the policy
impact) as a form of feedback loop. The ensuing claims continue to fuel anxieties
about media and their content, especially as research on well-being per se increas-
ingly advocates the virtues of time spent with family or in outdoor activities such as
sports and play. Considering such a social construct, the dynamics of research seems
to be in a constant balancing act, poised at the intersection of negative ill-being, risk
and addiction and positive well-being, empowerment and creativity.
17.3 Major Scientific Controversies About Children and

Well-Being Across Media
In communication sciences, the definition of child well-being in the media

is polarized between those who believe media are harmful and those who believe
that media are playful. So, following the model for evaluating scientific theories
elaborated by Charles Berger and Steven Chaffee (1987), it is important to consider
on the one hand the assumptions underlying such theories (ontological, epistemo-
logical and axiological) and on the other hand the explanatory power of such
theories (e.g., consistency and predictivity).
The two dominant theories are polarized in the way they differentiate claims
about the media from claims about their users. The users’ perceptions and expec-
tations of the media tend to diminish the causal power of the medium (Hall 1980;
Buckingham 2002; Livingstone 2002), whereas considering the media production
system tends to emphasize the value-laden quality of the messages and their effects
on users (Gerbner et al. 1980, 1986; Wartella 2012).
17.3.1 Effects Versus Uses
The effects school is based on cultivation theory (Gerbner and Gross 1976).
It considers the media, especially television, as the major source of storytelling and
posits that the more one watches the media, the more one believes in the messages and
442 D. Frau-Meigs
values they convey. Heavy viewers can be affected by the “mean world syndrome,”
the impression that the world is worse than it actually is, because the majority of media
fiction is preoccupied with violence. The overconsumption of television leads to
“mainstreaming,” the creation of a homogeneous public that is rather fearful because
the major effect of violence is not imitation but “cultivation,” the slow and long-term
habituation to “fear of crime” (Gerbner and Gross 1976). For George Gerbner and his
team, violence patterns are very stable over time and the direction of their steady
contribution over time leads to fear of victimization and resort to protection, especially
in children’s and prime-time programming. They used a research method that
combined message system quantitative analysis with cultivation analysis
(“the investigation of the consequences of this ongoing and pervasive system of
cultural messages”). They performed a longitudinal study of adolescents over
3 years that provided evidence for both an overall effect of viewing and for cultivation
and mainstreaming, with an overall cultivation of “mistrust, apprehension, danger and
exaggerated ‘mean world’ perceptions,” especially among young boys. This trend has
been recently reconfirmed in the magazine Science, by a series of articles showing
a “net effect” of media violence on society, all other societal and individual variables
being controlled (Anderson and Bushman 2002; Johnson et al. 2002).
Two main concepts lead to cultivation in their theoretical developments:
mainstreaming is “the dynamics of the cultivation of general concepts of social
reality” and resonance as “the amplification of issues particularly salient to certain
groups of viewers.” The subgroup of viewers Gerbner focuses on is the heavy
viewers, whose conception of social reality is most likely to be framed by the
media. They also happen to be the less well educated and with less income.
The theory holds that resonance is most congruent when the real-life situations of
viewers fit with the television messages, viewers receiving as it were a “double
dose” of information, which increases the association between viewing and fear.
The major mechanisms of cultivation are repetition, frequency and recency.
Cultivation is thus defined as “a process in which selected cultural patterns and
lessons are nourished and sustained, and which sees television as the mainstream of
the common symbolic environment” (Shanahan, p. 191).
The theory has been further complexified to be tested with new media and
in relation to cognition, resulting in new cognitive cultivation research. James
Shanahan and Michael Morgan particularly looked at cognitive processes such as
memory, attention and attribution, in relation to the construction of social reality
through television viewing. They report Marie-Louise Mares’ results (1996) that
show that there were “strong associations between fiction-to-news confusions and
social reality estimates; that is, those who tended to confuse fiction for reality saw
the world as a meaner, more violent place, and also gave ‘TV answers’ to questions
about SES”; her data show that “source confusions do enhance cultivation”
(Shanahan and Morgan 1999, p. 187). Shrum’s cognitive approach is the most
supportive of cultivation. According to him, people do not use cogitation over an
issue and do not show conscious awareness of television sources and messages, and
they tend to give the fast “TV answer” as its messages have become more heuris-
tically available over time (Shrum 1995). “Heuristic judgments, including those
involved with television, are used all the time in thinking about the future, making
risk judgments, and simply navigating everyday reality, without much conscious
attention to the source of information. This also means that television does not
necessarily change attitudes (and, again, cultivation does not mean attitude change)
but it makes them stronger” (Shanahan 1999, p. 190). So heuristic logic is used to
show that more exposure to messages leads to a greater tendency to use those
memories of messages to construct reality. “Stories don’t necessarily have impacts
on beliefs; they constitute beliefs. (. . .) Social control cannot be effected without
narrative control” (Shanahan 1999, pp. 196–197).
Cultivation theory is currently also looking at the role of storytelling and the
workings of dominant narratives, especially their cognitive processing. It looks at
narrative theory and especially the tenet that bits of information and narrative
structure are relevant to constructing judgments about social reality and in this
meeting with cultivation that adds in the media factor, with observed and quantified
instances of messages, with frequency and recency indicators. Richard Gerrig
(1993) considers the cognitive processing of narratives in his “transportation
theory,” and posits that fictional accounts do have “real-world” effects.
Mental processes used for thinking about fiction are the same as those used for
thinking about reality. Media share with the brain the notion of “representation,”
which is also vital to cognition.
With the arrival of new media and new vehicles, cultivation posits that it is not
the end of network dominance, but in fact that they are new delivery vehicles for the
same mass produced content. These media are not adopted as a means of liberation
from television, not a separation tool, but as an amplification tool, especially
because “cultivation of traditional sex-role perceptions was greatly strengthened
in cable-owning households” (Shanahan, p. 210). The concentration of ownership
and production is increasing with the emergence of “Hollyweb,” the combination
of Hollywood studios and digital technologies (Frau-Meigs 2007). It has led
to the paradox that there are more channels but fewer voices and choices
(McChesney 1998).
According to the criteria for scientific theories elaborated by Berger and
Chaffee, the theory is rather powerful. The ontological assumption is that humans
have little free will and have a need for media that is close to ritual consumption
(hence the focus on mass media). The epistemological assumption is that commu-
nication functions within our society and that it is a main source of surveillance,
transmission of values and mobilization around some core issues such as
violence. From an axiological perspective, the theory is not value-neutral. It implies
that there is some truth-value in what viewers are looking for. It also posits that
viewers have little choice in whether they are affected by media or not. As for its
various powers as a theory, effects and cultivation have a strong explanatory power
for they explain how and when society uses media. The theory has strong intuitive
and common sense appeal. It has also a strong predictive power as it can announce
that heavy viewers are going to be impressed by media contents in ways that other
subgroups are not. It also has real internal consistency as it is well-articulated
methodologically, associating contents, values and real life. The various concepts
444 D. Frau-Meigs
are not in conflict with each other and tend to build on each other. The argument that
the arrival of more media channels and the interactivity patterns for more audience
activity would mitigate mainstreaming and cultivation has proven false too. The
basic tenets hold true even under new media environments, and in some cases they
are even strengthened because of the lasting connection in our Western World
between two cultural facts that are also institutions: storytelling and advertising.
The theory has some heuristic value in the way it can show how the media are
dysfunctional, taking examples around the “mean world syndrome,” such as
national opinion polls around “mistrust” of others (especially specific groups of
the population).
The major focus of the effects and cultivation theory is on coherent large-scale
systems. Such is not the focus of uses and gratification theory that has criticized
media effects by opposing to it the cornucopia of interactive media and their
abundance of channels and virtual offerings to bring doubts on media effects and
replace them with the advent of media uses. Its proponents focus on small-scale
groups and cultural fads; they consider viewer activity as more important than the
overall message system or the media institutions producing it.
Audience activity studies have been carried out by uses and gratification theory.
It assumes that such activity is a key variable and it can run counter to media effects.
In this theory, audiences are not passive and do not consume media ritualistically
but at specific times, to gratify specific needs. Time-shifting technologies
(e.g., VCR, DVD, cable niche programming, Internet) are seen as helpful and
capable of mitigating mainstreaming and resonance. The theory posits that
a media user seeks out the media source that best fulfils its needs in a very conscious
manner, to the point of abolishing the text or modeling it to fit his or her needs. It
also considers that effects are null as nothing important happens to the message and
to reality representation while transiting the media, and it considers that media play
a passive role, not the audiences.
Uses and gratification theory is supported by research originally conducted by
Joy Blumler and Elibu Katz (1974). It has buttressed itself on theories of reading as
proposed by Stuart Hall who addressed the way people make sense of media as
“texts.” He departs from Antonio Gramsci’s theory of hegemony and Louis
Althusser’s theory of media as part of a state apparatus involved in framing and
reproducing its dominant ideology, by proposing a relative autonomy of the con-
sumer of mass media owing to his or her social position. In “Encoding and decoding
in the television discourse,” Hall (1980) proposes that the public can adopt a variety
of viewpoints in relation to media texts, without automatic adoption of the preferred
interpretation embedded in them. The “dominant-hegemonic” reading is the closest
to cultivation theory as it posits that viewers unquestioningly accept the messages
that the producers are sending them. The “negotiated” reading is the one in which
viewers accept some aspects of the messages and reject others. The “oppositional”
reading is one in which the viewers disagree with the messages and fully reject
them. According to Hall, most readings are negotiated ones, as viewers modify the
meanings of messages in relation to their beliefs, values and their own social status.
The theory was further refined by Tamar Liebes and Katz (1992), who looked
more carefully at “oppositional” reading and then by John Fiske (1992) who
considered more specifically “negotiated” reading. In their analysis of the reception
of Dallas in Israel, Liebes and Katz identify three categories of critical judgment:
semantic (awareness of themes, messages), syntaxic (awareness of genres, formu-
las) and pragmatic (awareness of the viewer’s personal implication and social
construction of the text). They notice, however, that many of the judgments they
analyze are referential, meaning that the various subgroups they observe tend to
refer to reality, more than to express criticism. Their critical judgment does not
necessarily imply a distance; it can rather lead to intense involvement and response
to the text. This criticism, however, is oppositional in nature, with four options for
resistance according to the capacity of the viewers to distantiate themselves from
the text: it can be moral (evaluation in terms of values), ideological (evaluation in
terms of hegemony and manipulation), aesthetic (evaluation in terms of the struc-
ture of the program) or playful (absence of any message). So they are aware that
opposition is both a defense and a vulnerability as a sense-making mechanism.
Fiske further investigates the negotiations the viewers engage in with a text, by
looking at the “cultural economy of fandom.” He considers young people and their
tendency to select certain performers or certain narratives from the mass-produced
repertoire of the media and to rework them in pleasurable ways. He posits the idea
of “productivity” rather than “reception” and proposes three categories
of negotiation with “producerly” texts “that have to be open, to contain gaps,
irresolutions, contradictions, which both allow and invite fan productivity” (Fiske
1992, p. 42): semiotic productivity, enunciative productivity and textual produc-
tivity. “All such productivity occurs at the interface between the commercially
produced cultural commodity (narrative, music, star, etc.) and the everyday life of
the fan” (Fiske 1992, p. 37). Semiotic productivity allows the fans to make sense of
their social identity and social experience from the text. Enunciative productivity
allows the fans to generate conversations on certain meanings of the text within
their local community as well as to make choices of clothes, hair styling and
accessories that assert their difference. Textual productivity allows the fans to
approximate the artistic quality of their preferred text, not for profit but for pleasure,
and not without talent and competences. According to Fiske, “fans are very
participatory” and can be part of a performance as in a stadium or at a concert;
the star or the program they admire is also partly constructed by them (as exem-
plified by the regular carnivalesque screenings of the Rocky Horror Picture Show).
According to the criteria for scientific theories elaborated by Berger and
Chaffee, the theory is also rather powerful. The ontological assumption is that
humans have a lot of free will and that media are consciously used to gratify some
specific needs. The epistemological assumption is that communication functions
within our society to serve each person in different ways, with alternate choices,
and therefore is a source of pleasure and empowerment (hence the focus on niche
media and subcultures). From an axiological perspective, the theory is value-laden
as it considers that viewers are autonomous, goal-oriented in their choice of media
446 D. Frau-Meigs
and can decide how the media will affect them. It refuses to consider the weight
of the media environment in today’s society and values instead societal differences
(e.g., gender, ethnicity) and strategies (e.g., identity construction, reputation-
building).
The theory has a strong explanatory power as it shifts the focus away from the
media as a source towards the media as a means for another end, and explains
phenomena such as stardom or fandom particularly in resonance with youth
cultures. It also has a strong predictive power as it can conjecture the behavior of
subcultures (collector attitudes, pastiches) while acknowledging that individuals
can express other socially conscious motives and choices. Its internal consistency is
less strong than cultivation theory, as it does not consider contents but only the way
people make use of them in real life and it does not consider the political economy
of media (e.g., advertising, media ownership). However, the various concepts
around reading scales are not in conflict with each other and tend to build on
each other. The theory has some heuristic value in the way it can show how the
media can be used in multiple ways, with examples around music selection and
mood or star appreciation and reputation.
Both theories place themselves at a different level of appreciation of the phe-
nomenon of reception and mediated well-being. Effects are seen at the macro level
of the political economy of media, whereas uses are considered at the micro level of
individual needs according to social background. Gerbner and his Annenberg team
(Gerbner et al. 1980) placed media effects on the academic agenda and brought
together a critical mass of scholars to analyze other media effects (e.g., gender
differences, pornography, advertising and stereotyping). Consequently they also
helped bring together a critical mass of contenders, who offered alternative
responses to their results, especially as uses and gratification was boosted by
cultural studies in gender, race and ethnicity. Gerbner problematizes consumption
and discusses the possibility that the more one consumes the more one believes in
the messages provided by television, by proxy as it were. Gerbner, and others like
him (Eron), criticizes the idea of imitation that was dominant at the time, and
brought about the suggestion that violence leads mostly to victimization and to fear,
with lasting political consequences, such as the search for security and the support
for police intervention (Eron and Huesmann 1980). Hall, and others like him
(Fiske), does not criticize consumption and materialism but shows how audiences
cope with the political economy of culture, constructing their own cultural capital,
with lasting political consequences, such as a hand-offs approach to the market
(Fiske 1992).
Still both theories, cultivation and gratification, tend to come together in the
agreement that storytelling and narrative matter, that heavy consumption may
create some kind of dependency or vulnerability, that media are used for making
sense of reality and of personal experience. In relation to mediated well-being, one
is rather pessimistic, the other rather optimistic: cultivation shows that violence and
fear are negative, whereas gratification shows that playing with media formats
and stars is positive. The two theories are both fundamental and irreducible one
to the other. The construction of mediated well-being is thus eminently fraught with
these tensions that are far from being resolved as scientific advances continue.
Cultivation theory feeds an analysis of media in terms of risk of harm, whereas
gratification theory offers an explanation of media in terms of play and perfor-
mance. They have led to many controversies, especially around children and
adolescents, as this population is seen as the most targeted by the media and the
most vulnerable as a consequence.
The truth may be somewhere in the middle: media contribute to virtual inner life
and to collective life; at the same time they can lead to fragmentation,
“asocialization” if not isolation, and little niche colonies online that do not foster
communication and community but networking and disengagement (Wellman et al.
2001). As a result, a third theory has emerged, focused on the “socialization” of
young people by the media, that tries to go beyond the oppositions between
cultivation and gratification, protection and participation, dependence and empow-
erment, using the latest research in social cognition (Greenfield and Subrahmanyam
2012). Socialization theory considers not only the uses but also the values, norms
and attitudes that are acquired by young people in their interaction with media. It
takes into account not just the media structure (effects theory) or the young people’s
pleasure (uses theory), but the situated interaction between the two and the com-
petences that are called upon for dealing with potential risk and applying the
adequate ethical response to it, using some of the tenets of social cognition
(Roskos-Ewoldsen and Monahan 2007). It considers the felt experience of risk
from the perspective of young people in relation to the situation that they are in and
to their interactions with peers and adults, especially as offline and online
exchanges are becoming the rule, with real-life consequences. Socialization theory
further tries to establish the value of social learning through the media not
perceived as texts but as spectacles and services (Frau-Meigs and Meigs 2009;
Frau-Meigs 2011b).
Socialization theory also seeks to understand the appropriation of ethics by
young people and tries to overcome the traditional opposition between morals
and ethics. Traditionally, they are likely to be opposed and contrasted: morals
tend to consider values as top-down, universal, implicit and abstract norms and
principles – that require duties and responsibilities, and call on law and sanction in
their application – whereas ethics tend to perceive values as bottom-up, pragmatic,
concrete, explicit, participative and affective actions – that promote a sense of
autonomy and call on social pressure and monitoring in their application
(Frau-Meigs and Meigs 2009; Frau-Meigs 2011c). Using a more systemic and
generative approach to the acquisition of the sense of values via a process of social
learning, socialization theory inquires into the possibility of achieving morals at the
end of the process, not as a set of obligations at the beginning of the process. As
more and more young people join cyberspace activities, and as more and more
cyberspace activities have real-life effects (intended and unintended), socialization
theory prolongs the criticism about consumption (effects theory) but also considers
the advantages of increased interactions (uses theory).
448 D. Frau-Meigs
17.3.2 Risk Versus Play
The issue of harmful content and harmful behavior is the cause célèbre of media
studies in relation to children and is strongly connected to media effects and
cultivation. It arises with every new media (e.g., cartoons, television, video
games) and with some new formats (e.g., reality programming). It is often pitched
against the advantages of play attached to harmless content and formats
(e.g., cartoons, series). Play is strongly supported by uses and gratification theory,
especially as it is propagated via video games and online social networks.
17.3.2.1 Considering the Claims for Media Risk

Harmful content and harmful behavior have recently met with risk theory (Beck
1992) that is no longer concerned only with keeping individuals safe from the
forces of nature, but also from the forces of technological development. According
to Ulrich Beck, risk has become integral to our subjectivity, to the point that its
management and prevention are seen as a political, economic and social necessity.
The result is what Zygmunt Bauman (2006) describes as “liquid fear,” a sense of
insecurity that emanates from the individualization process itself and which is
making individuals increasingly responsible for choices even as the underlying
social structures increase in complexity and lack of transparency.
Risk theory has been applied to scientific and environmental hazards, as in the
case of the “precautionary principle” (Lupton 1999). It has only recently been
considered in the case of the media as they deal with the construction of social
problems arising from the new information and communication technologies
(Jehel 2010; Frau-Meigs 2011b). Frau-Meigs considers a series of media panics
akin to “liquid fears” – extreme forms of engagement with the media that prompt
people to join demonstrations or write to their MPs. These media panics, conveyed
by audiovisual and digital media alike, pervade public opinion and repeatedly focus
on “harmful content” and “harmful behavior,” especially violence, pornography,
deceitful advertising and manipulated news. Other less vocal concerns also involve
self-harm (e.g., obesity, anorexia, suicide), addiction, attention deficit or stereo-
typed ethnic and gender identities. They all suggest a sense of loss of social
references and reflect deep concerns over an individual’s moral and psychological
integrity.
The basis of these concerns shows that fear affects deep-seated values in a given
society, some of which determine its very survival: death, and who is allowed to kill
with violence; sexuality, and who is allowed to arouse it with pornography. In both
cases, the questions at stake deal with the conditions of social production and
reproduction. With advertising and news, the question of truth and deceit arises,
which is crucial to the legitimacy of the media themselves. With addiction, atten-
tion or self-harm, the issues are about psychological and physical balance as they
affect well-being enhanced by ICTs. In every case, there are two recurrent features:
the interest given to what is represented as “risk of harm,” and the focus on young
people as a vulnerable population “at risk.” Beyond the immediate concerns
over protection of minors, there is the long-term interest in the socialization of

young people to the citizenry of tomorrow.
Risk theory and socialization theory have renovated the perspective on effects,
by examining the resilience of outdated patterns about the child, the family, the
media and ICT sector, and last but not least, the school system. Outdated patterns
about the child have it that young people are either powerless angels or powerful
mavericks, when in fact research on media uses shows that they tend to be lazy and
curious. Outdated patterns about the family still consider it as a homogeneous unit,
with both parents present, united and responsible, when in fact research shows that
this “ideal” family has become a minority. The more likely family style tends to be
a mix of mono-parental, divorced and recomposed groupings, where the child is
often left alone with the media.
Outdated patterns about the media sector tend to suggest that media are trans-
parent and responsible, when in fact they are rather opaque, act both as judge and
party in self-regulation schemes and have a vested commercial interest in producing
violence and other potentially harmful content. This content is not necessarily the
most in demand by young people (whose tastes tend to go for action and interac-
tion); it is not free (production and distribution costs matter); and it is not neutral as
it thwarts the universal strive for human rights and uses freedom of expression as
a shield for the expression of commercial interests (Potter 2003).
Outdated patterns about the school system present it as the last barrier against
market forces, while it is prey to contradictory pedagogical stances and heavy
pressure to adopt ICT-driven technologies in huge national plans for development
whose efficiency is far from proven. Schools exert a sort of symbolic violence on
children who are a prey to intense boredom or ennui, the result of the double bind in
which they are maintained, as the “highbrow” school culture denies their taste in the
“lowbrow” media culture whereas the social discourse tells them that the future of
their jobs lies in their acquired e-skills and media literacies (Frau-Meigs 2011b).
Socialization theory, buttressed by childhood studies, also shows that young
people do not perceive the same risks as adults. They fear risks to their own image
and personal reputation, and risks that they can act against each other, e.g., bullying,
vilification, ostracism or even racism (e.g., toward children coming from minority
groups). They also are aware of excessive risks they can inflict on themselves, in the
sense of exposure to extreme behaviors, like suicide, anorexia or bulimia. They will
make their choices in relation to a cost–benefit ratio, considering that curiosity and
risk-taking may lead to more opportunities than passivity (Frau-Meigs 2011b).
A lot of the current assessments of risk online are derived from prior research on
offline content of the same sort, the assumption being that the same effects observed
in other media will take place as the same material is transferred online. However,
some cognitive research has been emerging recently on the effects of online
pornography in connection with online and offline attitudes to sexuality, focusing
on teenagers (Brown and l’Engle 2009; Peter and Valkenburg 2009). The main
trends suggest that exposure to pornography over time reduces sexual satisfaction,
increases sexual preoccupancy (thinking about sex) and sexual uncertainty (about
450 D. Frau-Meigs
the meaning of hardcore dimensions of sexual representation). The four types of

effects on behavior have been summed up by Jane Brown (2002) as “casualisation”
(casual encounters are the norm), “traditionalisation” (traditional gender roles are
reinforced) and “ambiguation” (preoccupancy and uncertainty about uncertain
dimensions of sex) and “acceleration” (early exposure leads to early experimenta-
tion in coital sex and hardcore porn, when it does not increase sexual harassment).
The perceived realism of pornographic material has underlying cognitive pro-
cesses that lead to four major attitudes: no demonstration of affection, no long-time
commitment, more instrumental view of sex and more traditional gender roles,
reinforced by the “fun” dimension of the messages. Pornographic representations
also contribute to the embedding of porn into consumer culture, “pornification”
being a good vehicle for sales and the commodification of the self. It uses young
people’s search for learning social techniques about sex, but tends to create a divide
between girls, very critical of porn (as they are shown as objects), and boys who
tend to appreciate being sexually aroused.
The role of the Internet seems to be more evident in the last effect, acceleration,
as more time spent online leads to more chances of wanted and unwanted exposure
as well as direct solicitation. The Internet also acts as a “super peer” that exerts an
enormous pressure on young people who are actively engaged in social learning.
The implications for the socialization to sex are far and reaching and have to do
with what happens to symbolic and erotic imagination, self-perception (especially
in gender roles and relational insecurities), not to mention issues related to lack of
consent for the sexual act and to lack of information on sexually transmitted
diseases.
The new budding lines of research for online media seem to be on risky contact
or risky conduct rather than on harmful content. Contact in real life is related to
interaction with online users, and it can have a risk of harm by meeting strangers or
by exposure to online misbehavior. This ranges from harassment and bullying at
school online and offline to grooming by other young adults or older people and
sexual predation. Another conduct risk is increasingly appearing with research,
connected to addiction and poor school performance. Heavy users of the
Internet are now evincing “offline dislike” and show some reticence to engage in
real-life activities, as they become more and more isolated from real-life
contacts. A growing body of research on the issue tends to make a parallel
between consuming substances that create addiction and heavy engagement
with online material (not necessarily harmful, like games). This also has conse-
quences for school performance as attention levels drop while sleep deprivation
augments.
Research suggests that young people, especially those aged 12–17, tend to be
aware of the risks, especially regarding social networking sites, where they are
encouraged by the very formats of the platforms to reveal information about
themselves or their family and friends, effectively facilitating any profiling search
by third parties. However, awareness may be relative and it does not necessarily
lead to actions like stopping interaction or disconnecting or modifying behavior
and types of consumption and use (Frau-Meigs 2011b). It seems that young
people make a cost–benefit-type analysis where the cost of being connected

online is less important than the benefits of connectedness. As a result they do
not often use filters on their own initiative, they knowingly allow access to their
profiles to anyone, they register on restricted sites and abandon their private data
and information to data-mining sites, etc. Issues such as verifiability (for age
declared), anonymity (in spite of pseudos and avatars) and traceability are at
stake, as young people tend to underestimate the consequences of imparting
private information publicly. Yet these are real as universities and corporations
are increasingly using Internet searches to verify the profiles of potential students
and workers, retrieving information that may be used to bar them from entry or
employment.
But evidence of direct harm is not the only concern, as it affects small groups of
people, already vulnerable for many other reasons (e.g., sexual misery, loneliness,
family break-ups). The more diffuse and long-term types of socialization to harmful
content and the lowering of barriers to the acceptability of such behaviors as
grooming for pornography or as preparing unquestioning adults to advertising
and data-mining demands are what concerns adults, in their responsible role as
mediators and educators of young people.
On the new media, especially the services that allow for chatting, social net-
working and video-clipping, such considerations translate into potential online risks
to children. They fall into three categories for most researchers (Millwood Hargrave
and Livingstone 2006):
• Contact relates to inappropriate solicitation of young people, either for sexual
interest or for commercial phishing.
• Content relates to illegal or age-inappropriate content, such as images of abused
children, sound clips about hate speech, pornography, solicitation of young
people by adults or other more mature youngsters, grooming.
• Conduct relates to online behavior, such as bullying, victimization, ostracism
(from groups), risk behaviors (divulging information, posting undue photo-
graphs, stealing content, etc.).
Among these three categories, two are similar to patterns also relevant for offline
media, content and conduct, whereas contact is an emerging issue. Another one
category – consent – needs to be added, as children increasingly are the target of
the data-mining economy of the new media services and belong to the house-
holds that are best equipped (Frau-Meigs 2011c).
• Consent relates to commercialization and to new advertising strategies, e.g.,
one-to-one marketing or intrusive and yet secret neuro-marketing technologies,
that aim to create relative dependence on the media and to gather information
that is crucial for third parties and data-mining. Providers of such services may
exert undue coercion on particularly sensitive young people who desperately
want “to belong” by pushing them to disclose personal data or to broadcast
harmful conduct. In the USA, a Federal Trade Commission enquiry in March
1998 (before legal steps via the Children Online Protection Act were taken in
2000) showed that most e-commerce sites (89 %) compelled children to deliver
personal information prior to accessing their services; only half of these sites
452 D. Frau-Meigs
provided some degree of transparency on how the data were used, whereas only
1 % asked for parental consent. And yet, half these sites either transferred or sold
these data to their commercial partners (www.ftc.gov; Montgomery 2012).
Other research shows that interactive areas of the web are more exposed to risk
than closed communities: stable game platforms are more secure than open plat-
forms for chats, forums and other video exchanges. Besides, risks are floating and
do not always stay in one area, as they can move from content to contact, or contact
to conduct. Such research tends to show that young people are able to protect
themselves partly via online practices but it also stresses the importance of the
mediation of adults, who are less absent from such environments than is generally
estimated. Young people are actively seeking and imparting information about
protection, not just as a “coping” practice but as a cognitive sense-making mech-
anism. Parental mediation remains an important asset to mitigate risk and increase
trust. This insight calls for more intergenerational dialogue among adults and
children, in order to avoid conflict and to increase the communication of emotions
within the family (Frau-Meigs 2009).
In a social cognition perspective, trying to understand the long-term effects of
such contents and conducts on socialization, it is important to see how “cognitively
sensitive” such risks are. Some researchers on privacy issues have come to similar
conclusions and suggest taking into consideration vulnerability, reputation, emo-
tional and psychological harm, as well as relationship harm that may lead to chilling
effects in media use (Solove 2008). All sorts of damage from secondary effects,
e.g., distortion of character, humiliation and reputation torts, can affect human
dignity and have lasting consequences. Online representations of sexually abused
children may not seem as strong as real violence or real rape, but they can create
stress according to the cognitive “harm paradigm” whereupon once a violent act is
committed, it is “irreversible”: it stays in the brain, and it stays on the networks, to
be seen again and again, either by the same person or by many others, creating
subtle but enduring traumas.
For some fragile or unprepared individuals such as children, harmful content can
have irreversible effects. The recognition of exposure harm for instance (showing
people vomiting or exposing private body parts) is important as it can affect self-
esteem, reputation building and have implications for self-development so that
people are not prisoners of their past, especially young people. A sort of “second
chance” or “second life” paradigm could be necessary, where young people are not
considered responsible for online actions, as they often are not for offline actions.
The possibility of reversibility should be granted to them. Better still, prevention of
damage should be possible, which is why there is a high social value in preventing
harmful content (Frau-Meigs 2009). Even though the saying goes that “you do not
prevent a child from drowning by building a wall around your beach house,” reality
checks also confirm that learning to swim is not done just by throwing the child into
the surf. A learning curve is necessary and not devoid of its own dangers, even
under the supervision of adults.
The other consideration to take into account is that, even though young people –
or adults for that matter – are consenting, it can be seen as “seeming consent,”
because the coercion for disclosure is enormous. Disclosure of harm and harmful
content and behavior is an issue to recognize as socially damaging because it is
a tool for exerting power and dominion over others. The rationale for some of our
societies strongest prohibitions (like sexual harassment or pedophilia) is that they
correspond to coercive acts, where the consent is not voluntary though it seems to
be so. One person can get excessive power over another or even, in the case of
online social networks, a group can gain excessive control over a person, as a form
of peer tyranny. Taking advantage of a person via that person’s data or personal or
private information is an outrage to dignity and to human rights. It involves the use
of fear, implicit or explicit, to force someone to submit to one’s will. This can also
be the tyranny of the majority (in fact a small controlling minority), in the
“super peer” atmosphere of the Internet. The threat of harmful content should
therefore be considered as a wrongful act in itself. In that sense, arguments that
tend to pitch protection of minors versus freedom of expression are not relevant, as
the right to free expression can be severally damaged by seeming or coerced
consent.
This blurring of the value of freedom in the cultural contradictions of the so-
called “information society” leads to all sorts of manipulations. Under the guise of
participation of young people, under the guise of play and games, media spectacles
and services push for transgression of freedom of expression, induce self-exposure,
force self-humiliation, etc. Seeming consent and undue constraint are what passes
off as terms of service and as media freedoms, without any of the responsibilities
that make it a real value for citizenship in democracy.
17.3.2.2 Considering the Advantages of Play

Some researchers, however, warn about the very risk of suggesting that the Internet
has risks. They make the distinction between promotion of risk, amplification of risk
and the migration of other socially risky behaviors online, such as pornography,
pedophilia, suicide, anorexia, bullying and other extremisms (e.g., hate speech,
mo-slapping). They are concerned that applying words like “super peer” or
“risk amplifier” to the Internet will play into a narrative on risk that will lead to
media panics or that will blind people to opportunities offered by the networks. They
tend to deny “risk amplification” as a mere hypothesis still to be tested and tend to
promote the opposite hypothesis of “risk reduction,” looking for the mechanisms of
the Internet that could be “protective” (Wolak et al. 2003). They insist on the fact that
the Internet might reduce offline risk-taking activities related to delinquency (creating
time delays that prevent getting into trouble); they contend that the Internet reduces
boredom and increases detection of risky behavior and enhances early protection
measures.
Such an approach to play is buttressed on uses and gratification theory which
argues that risk is offset by pleasure in participation, social shaping and peer
relations (Turkle 1995; Parks and Floyd 1996; Singer and Singer 2001). Some
research confirms the importance of peer-to-peer monitoring for “coping” with risk
online, with peers by-passing the authority of adults and family values (Livingstone
and Lievrouw 2006; Allard and Blondeau 2007). Such research tends to extol the
454 D. Frau-Meigs
importance of peer exchanges in the process, and minimizes risk in relation to other
social benefits. Experiencing risk as well as experiencing ethics seems possible on
social networks, as long as the user experience is different from the consumer
experience, and the goals for interaction override the goals for consumption. But
user experience has also become a kind of buzzword that rhymes with empower-
ment, when little verification of this kind of agency and autonomy has been done,
especially in terms of consequences to socialization and appropriation of ethics and
norms for behavior. Expectations have to be taken into account, including unex-
pected uses, and at the same time a certain explicit amount of consciousness and
awareness of the consequences of use.
Part of the problem resides in the difficulty of having children and young people
evaluate explicitly their experiences and their awareness of use. The felt or emo-
tional quality of interaction is often lost in research done by adults. One of the
solutions is trying to do research with youngsters as voluntary participants or
informants. A certain amount of reflexivity over the felt experience has to be
captured to understand how socialization proceeds with young people. It implies
the need for a situated action approach that does not exclude the larger cultural
context. The larger cultural context of the Internet is rather politically and ethically
loaded, as it often deals with people’s values and attitudes. This can be verified
with online games, whose history of violence is closely related to commercial
exploitation of special effects for movies, and thus appeal to heavy consumers of
gimmicks and accessories (Allard and Blondeau 2007; Jenkins 2006). This trend
still exists, but now a full array of games offering other strategies than violence is
accessible. There are quest games, mission games and fantasy animal games that
attract a large number of players. Such games, that offer open narratives, are akin to
Fiske’s “producerly” texts that contain gaps and contradictions that foster fan
productivity.
Online games have diversified into a variety of categories, the two main ones
being Massive Multiplayer Online Role-Playing Games (MMORPG) and browser
games. The games that attract most media attention for potentially harmful content
are MMORPGs that lend themselves to “hardcore gaming” – intense, competitive
and long interactions among players – and may lead to incidences of risk (violence,
cyberstalking, cyberbullying, etc.). It is less so with browser games, related to the
concept of “casual gaming” – relaxed and informal play, not necessarily leading to
intense interactions (Aarseth 2003). They have also attracted much less research
interest as they are not seen as causing any major panic. The nature of the games
and of the platforms thus may be conducive to trust and the building of friendships
via play (Frau-Meigs and Meigs 2009).
Play, especially when unstructured, has been positively associated with social
learning, creativity and participation with media. Uses and gratification theory also
has stressed the prosocial interactions afforded by the media and insisted on such
practices as social networking, social gaming, texting and serial experiencing as
“producerly” activities. Media are considered not as hazards but as means for
developing imagination. In such a perspective, play is strongly connected with
identity construction, with strong individuation as well as social relatedness
(Turkle 1995; Greenfield 2009). Children, and more particularly adolescents,

undertake all sorts of explorations of the self as a means to engage with others
and to consider all the possibilities offered to them, as they refuse to operate on
lifelong decisive choices (that characterize adulthood). Media, especially
videogames, provide young people with many scenarios for exploring life and for
sending messages of self-presentation and self-display, from the relatively secure
position of their bedroom.
In such a perspective, the notion of “mediation” emerges as a strong element for
explaining interactions with media in everyday life and children’s development
(Barbero 1993; Silverstone 2005). Mediation is defined as “a fundamentally dia-
lectical notion which requires [one] to address the processes of communication as
both institutionally and technologically driven and embedded” (Silverstone 2005,
p. 189). It posits that these processes in turn are mediated in the social processes of
reception and consumption. It tends to imply that there are many consequences of
mediation, not all predictable in terms of effects or outcomes. Arguably this leads
to the empirical assumption of “the impossibility of reading from one level of
the process of mediation to another; ownership does not determine content; content
does not determine reception” (Silverstone 2005, p. 191).
Though it tends to gravitate towards uses and gratification theory, mediation has
been studied in relation to power situations such as gender and masculinity as well
as femininity role learning (Signorielli 1989; Williams et al. 2009). It has also been
associated with perceptions of sexual leanings (Huston et al. 1998). Some other
research covers stereotyping, especially issues of race and ethnicity where powerful
mechanisms of alienation versus integration are at work (Huntemann and Morgan
2012). Mediation tries to bridge the gap between effects and uses and supports
socialization theory as it takes into account both power relations and resistance
capacities, and considers the negotiated relations between private and public
spheres and spaces, at global and local level. Its prevalence confirms that media
are no longer an appendage of social learning but a key element whose centrality is
still underestimated and under-researched.
Research is still far from assessing the offline consequences of online behavior
for identity, but it seems that young people bring their offline life online as well,
with their eclectic social contexts and stages in the life cycle. There is a growing
agreement, however, that social networks offer critical mechanisms of identity
formation (Goldman et al. 2008). They offer options for repeated invention of the
self (Stern 2004), on services such as Facebook or YouTube. Others have identified
the move from simple personal and social identity to a sedimented presence
in online environments, with categories such as “cognitive presence,” “social
presence” and “designed presence,” as a means of breaking away from digital
distance (Frau-Meigs 2011a).
The online environment also creates new conditions for mediated well-being.
Very few data show identity deception or gender-swapping, in relation to the
amount of exchanges online (Parks and Roberts 1998). According to others,
anonymity creates less social risk and allows for more honesty and self-disclosure
than in real life (McKenna and Bargh 2004). In their analysis of self-categories
456 D. Frau-Meigs
(individual and social categories), some researchers consider that online lack of
face-to-face relationship does not render relationships less real or significant:
shared interests seem more important than appearance (Lea and Spears 1995).
Others still argue in favor of integrating the Internet in real-life activities as part
of well-being (Wellman and Gulia 1999; Wellman and Haythornwhite 2002;
Whitty and Gavin 2000).
In the perspective of childhood studies, others advance that young people are in a
greater position of control and have greater autonomy not so much because of
technological savviness but because of the access to material and opportunities
traditionally reserved to the dominion of adults (Sefton-Green and Sinker 2000).
This in turn may lead to an increase in the intergenerational gap as parents feel the
competition of media as socializers and as a result tend to dialogue less and less
with children, leading them to construct their own media cultures (Casas 2008).
No scientific research consensus therefore exists on well-being in the new media.
As suggested by intimacy theory, time spent online is not associated with
dispositional or daily well-being. The closeness of instant messaging communica-
tion partners can be associated with daily social anxiety and loneliness in school,
above and beyond the contribution of dispositional measures (Gross et al. 2002).
The exploration between designed game and unstructured play remains one of the
crucial areas of research in the field, especially as it is turning into online gambling
and addiction, to which young people, especially in Asian cultures, are increasingly
exposed.
A summary of such in-depth and polarized online and offline research could
be made in the form of a matrix with double entries: risk versus play and
expectations of ill-being versus well-being. The major concepts of media research
could be placed along those lines, with violence, pornography, panics, consumer-
ism, addiction, incubation, loss of values and of social bearings and clues on the
one hand, and social learning, identity construction, empowerment, civic agency,
creativity and mediation on the other hand. They could also be construed in
terms of the relative autonomy of children, from the most passive (recipients of
contents), to the most active (creators of content) and the most interactive (partici-
pants in exchanges). The resulting matrix would display various types of mediated
well-being that would inter-cross according to the media mix and the communication
situation. It would also provide a tool for policymakers and for the developers of
indicators and measurements of mediated well-being.
17.4 Major Policy and Advocacy Uses of Communication

Research on Children and Well-Being: Protection Versus
Participation
Effects and incubation theory has led to public policy regulation in the name of
the protection of young people, whereas uses and gratification theory has promoted
self-regulation by the industry and by the users themselves in the name of
individual “empowerment.” Socialization theory tries to promote co-regulation
and multi-stakeholderism in an effort to mitigate risks while enhancing opportuni-

ties in the name of human rights within which the rights of the child are part
and parcel.
17.4.1 Media Panics and Protection Against Risk
Panics and risk are explained by cultivation theory and lead to a strong call for
policymaking as the weight of responsibility is put on the media and their
professionals and calls for protection of the public, especially young people as
a vulnerable target.
17.4.1.1 Modeling Media Panics

Suggesting that there is risk in the media may lead to media panics, as a public and
political act on the part of a range of players in society who are concerned with the
increasing role of the media in the socialization of young people. But this implies
associating risk theory with social morals and relying on cultivation theory to the
point of criminalizing the media by associating them with fear of crime, which
many are very reluctant to do because traditionally blame tends to fall on individ-
uals rather than abstract entities (Lupton 1999; Critcher 2003). The proponents of
gratification theory argue that this would mean recognizing that the media affect
reception, when reception tends to be constructed as an individual act rather than
a collective one (Mondzain 2002).
Yet panics keep circling back, like a collective form of basic, instinctive and
stubborn resistance. The phenomenon is pervasive mostly in Western, media-rich
countries but also in the emerging countries of Asia and Eastern Europe, a clear sign
that its hold reflects real uncertainty. There are several competing models that all
tend to highlight panics as a sequential process and a form of social management.
They are modeled as moral panics in which media have a part to play. Some are
interpreted on the basis of an analysis of deviancy and the phenomena associated
with it (Cohen 1973), whereas others are conceived as a form of public construction
of social problems (Blumer 1971). In these models, the role of the media is
recognized but considered as secondary compared to other social protagonists
(Critcher 2003).
Stanley Cohen’s model in Folk Devils and Moral Panics (1973) is the clearest to
date. He believes that panic is a phenomenon of “deviancy amplification” that
occurs in several phases where the initial problem leads to an exaggerated social
response that is polarized by the inventory made by the media. The response by the
control culture via its “moral entrepreneurs” leads to intervention and the return to
status quo. He emphasizes the crucial role of the media in supplying available
information to the public and in characterizing deviancy and its causes. He sees
them as “agents of moral indignation.” The “inventory” phase in the sequence has
the media playing an important role through three basic processes: exaggeration,
prediction and symbolization, where language helps them to create stereotypes or
deviancy profiles. In the “response” phase, the media play other roles, setting the
458 D. Frau-Meigs
tone for judgments (moral decline), offering stereotypes (“deviants”) and explana-
tions of causality (deviancy as a breakdown of morality, law and order). They bring
systems of social control to the fore, by highlighting the role of politicians and other
policymakers as “moral entrepreneurs” who take responsibility for introducing new
measures or strengthening those that already exist.
Stuart Hall, in Policing the Crisis (1978), offers a model of ideological crisis
resolution in which he also sees moral panics as a means of maintaining the status
quo. Hall investigates further the specific contribution of the media, showing how
they are dependent on official sources which he sees as the “primary definers” of
an issue; the media are “secondary definers,” translating official discourse into
public discourse and then reflecting policymakers’ opinions back to them as
if they had been formed by the public, thereby effectively substituting public
opinion. Ultimately, policymakers are served by the media in the definition of
a particular crisis and in the ideological resolution of that crisis, which will
continue to be treated in the same way each time the problem recurs. Again, the
media are secondary, easily led and manipulated by the state. This Marxist
framework brings in the concept of hegemony and analyses moral panics as
a means of being on close terms with the crisis, which enables the state to
maintain its repressive apparatus and instruments of domination (over laws,
delinquents, unions, etc.). For Cohen as for Hall, deviancy is a positively con-
noted notion (because of the possibility of social change), whereas panic is
negatively connoted, as an artifice used to remove the credibility of deviancy
and to maintain power in the hands of those that already hold it.
American researchers, working in a pragmatic and behaviorist scientific envi-
ronment, have a less ideological standpoint than their British counterparts. They
also have a more interventionist position on the perception of risk, and their state
system is more decentralized, with multiple levels of governance and intervention
by the various groups concerned. The model of moral panic that has inspired all
others was offered by Herbert Blumer in Social Problems as Collective Behavior
(1971). Blumer focuses not on deviancy, but on the public construction of social
problems, through a “constructivist” and functional approach. It takes into account
several phases: emergence, legitimation, mobilization, formation of an official plan
and implementation.
Blumer’s model is voluntarily focused on public and political decision-making
on social problems of whatever kind. He has very little to say about the media.
Following Blumer’s line, Malcolm Spector and John Kitsuse, in Constructing
Social Problems (1977), add more complexity to the public policy aspects by
bringing in the perspectives of the various protagonists and taking greater account
of the media. They use the discourses of what they call “claims-makers” to
describe morally contentious or intolerable conditions and attitudes. They lay
particular emphasis on institutions, interactions with pressure groups and the
judicial and legal responses made to the social problem. They focus less on
power and domination structures, such as objective social conditions that can
account for the instrumental use of panic. They see the social problem as the result
of a negotiated activity, rather than its precondition. Their analysis is focused on
actors, strategies, places and impacts. Claims-makers are not necessarily “moral
entrepreneurs,” but may be activists, professional lobbyists or lawyers, members
of civil society, associations or official “watchdog” agencies. They underestimate
the role of the media by seeing them as mere mouthpieces for the various claims
being made. They offer three possible explanations for “claims-making” behav-
ior: the “grassroots model,” which originates in the general public and its tenden-
cies towards liquid fear; the “elite-engineered model,” which originates in the
control culture, and the “interest group model,” stemming from middle manage-
ment and the middle rungs of social and political governance. In all three
American models, panic is no longer the reverse negative face of deviancy but
one key element of social negotiation, necessary to bring awareness to the acuity
of the public problem.
The British view emphasizes moral values and the political conditions governing
their production and survival through the (elite) control culture; the American view
emphasizes the legal and social dimension of public policies, with negotiated
interaction between different protagonists (whose alliances are temporary and
contingent on events). Detailed and complementary as they are, these approaches
and models nevertheless either have an ideological slant or present explanatory
gaps. This is best demonstrated by Chas Critcher who, in Moral Panics and the
Media (2003), offers a critical review of these Anglo-American analyses; better to
return to Cohen’s model, one of the most relevant in his view. He attempts to offer
a synthesized “process-oriented” model, insisting even more on the importance of
media: emergence, inventory by the media, intervention by moral entrepreneurs,
expert opinions, resolution, eclipse and legacy. He adds complexity with two
further concepts and stages: expert opinions and legacy. He recognizes that not
all of these phases will necessarily occur and that the process is not linear and may
be cyclical (contrary to Cohen’s model).
What is missing in these models is greater consideration of what makes public
opinion react, not necessarily focused on deviancy but potentially on collective and
individual risk. These are models that only consider elites, as the single locus of the
“control culture.” They do not take popular culture much into consideration, or how
it interacts with elite culture through other protagonists, who are not only moral
entrepreneurs, but also claims-makers from specific interest groups, especially
those involved in child advocacy (social workers, child welfare professionals,
pediatricians, education workers, family associations or social movements promot-
ing feminism, non-violence, and so on), in the case of panics around violence and
pornography. They take no account of the private sector and its own particular
agenda, or of the laws of competition that can lead to unexpected alliances, with
either governments or civil society. There is also the matter of phases or cycles,
which – although they do exist to some extent – are erased by continuous interaction
between the media, culture, opinions and people’s needs and values. Finally, these
models do not take into account panics generated by harmful contents conveyed by
the media where the “control culture” is often rooted in popular culture and even in
youth culture itself. They tend to present collective behavior as inexplicable,
irrational, eruptive, excessive and disproportionate. They pay little attention to
460 D. Frau-Meigs
cognitivist perspectives that take an integrated view of the context, the situation and
its interpretation as negotiated by a whole series of protagonists forming temporary
and fluctuating alliances that make up “interpretive communities” (Fish 1980),
which happen to be also communities of practice, with experience in dealing
with youth.
Such alliances work around a specific project whose political finality is not
strictly ideological: the interest of the child can generate consensus both on right-
wing and left-wing parties even if the objective reasons for their alliance differ
deeply under the surface. The specificity of such an approach is related to engage-
ment in a cognitive project; it is based on a process of commitment to a cause, with
the various protagonists involved, at the micro level as well as the national level.
Such cognitive notions as collective intelligence, co-construction of knowledge,
shared decision-making, agency and resilience can explain the process that leads to
the panic and its resolution, as an arbitration that is the outcome of negotiated
compatibilities between the global and the local, individuals as well as institutions.
Beyond hegemonic state or control culture, interpretive communities of practice try
to make sense of their situation and to establish connections. Such sense and
connections are tested by media, in ethical dilemmas raised by “harmful content,”
characterized by paradoxical or contradictory choices for action. Such representa-
tions are perceived and constructed as a “media risk” because they put to the test
values traditionally shared by a given society (Frau-Meigs 2009, 2011b).
Socialization theory confirms the existence of a social scheme in panics, which is
constructed as a “media risk,” from the perspective of communities of interpreta-
tion and practice that aim at the appropriation of media contents and are aware of
the media role in the socialization of young people. Accounting for media risk leads
to still further refinements of the process-oriented model, taking up and enriching
some of Critcher’s phases with the additional notion of project-oriented engage-
ment. It suggests the emergence of a model of media panics that works on the
principle of “amplification of dilemma and media engagement” (Frau-Meigs
2011b). This model produces four phases (the 4 D’s), each made up of complex
cognitive steps with attendant public policy implications:
1. The debate around a trigger event (which attracts attention and is linked to
cognitive concepts of emergence and attention)
2. Public debate around an ethical dilemma that leads to discussions on prohibition/
permission of the incriminated medium or program (mobilization of public
opinion, with emotional and intellectual appraisals, associated with cognitive
concepts of attachment, enaction, etc.)
3. Denouement through a negotiated and temporary resolution (ideas aligned and
tested against each other, reforms and laws, linked to cognitive concepts of
decision and compatibility, etc.)
4. Displacement, away from the initial status quo (revision of values, assessment of
forces of authority and legitimacy, analyses of deviancy and agency, etc.).
These phases bring ethical sensibilities and socialization to the core of questions
of representation and construction of public problems. Relationships within and
between the media have to be taken into account to understand how a problem of
public concern is brought onto a common media agenda, whether to exaggerate,
distort, denounce or support it. Harmful content and harmful behavior (around
issues of violence, pornography, advertising, addiction, etc.) tend to mobilize the
general public and affect semiotic resources and cognitive operators as well as
conditions of reception. Media panics are therefore difficult to dismiss as an
epiphenomenon, because their results are tangible and enduring, and affect public
policies and legislation.
17.4.1.2 Solutions of Regulation and Policy: Protection and Provision

As a result of such research focused on young people and risk (and, latently
therefore on well-being), communication sciences has policy-oriented dimensions
and policy outcomes. But in democracies, the case for regulation of the media is not
easily heard by the institutions that represent the lobbies of communication and
therefore ministries of culture and communication or the high authorities on media,
like the Federal Communications Commission (FCC) in the USA or the Conseil
Supérieur de l’Audiovisuel (CSA) in France, have been very reluctant to adopt any
policy. The case is immediately made that policing the media would be tantamount
to censorship and would create chilling effects on freedom of expression and the
liberty of creation of the adult.
So media regulation, as carried by claims-makers, has often started within health
circles, not media circles that resist it on the grounds of censorship. The ministry of
health or the ministry of the family and youth are the ones most likely to be
mobilized, such as the National Institute for Mental Health (NIMH) in the USA
or the Ministry of Family and Youth in France, in the 1990s, around issues of
television violence. They have moved from physical health (e.g., violence) to
mental health (e.g., trauma, addiction). The creation of the children’s ombudsmen
in Sweden or “la défenseure des enfants” in France has helped to bring the
specificity of the child into the public view.
Media regulation attempts have often led to interesting social debates around the
well-being of children as well as the social impact and utility of research. The
debates, such as those around the US Children’s Protection from Violence Program-
ming Act on reducing television violence in the 1990s, have had structuring effects on
the public debate as they bring about the mobilization of various claims-makers,
some from the grassroots and others from the interest groups and media lobbies. Such
debates as the Children’s Decency Act during the Telecommunications Act of 1996 or
COPPA about the Internet may not lead to laws, but may lead to proactive measures,
like more support for quality content, for new community media, for media literacy
programs. The threat of legislation is considered as deterrent enough to force the
industrial sector to pay attention (Rowland 1983; Potter and Warren 2003).
The first amendment in the USA (and similar principles in other countries) is
often invoked to stop legislation, and the rights of the adults are often pitched
against the rights of the child. The situation reflects a lack of continuity
between what is perceived as the rights of children and the rights of adults.
462 D. Frau-Meigs
This discontinuity prevents the coherent construction of protection and of its

applications in the realm of media. And yet, protection can be attached to the
Convention on the Rights of the Child (1989) whose principles are clearly
expressed through several important articles:
• Article 13 recognizes the freedom of expression of the child and the right to seek
and impart ideas and data.
• Article 17 mentions the importance of media and the need for providing for
materials that have a cultural and social utility for the development of the child,
while allowing for its protection against materials that could be detrimental to
his/her well-being. Section 17e emphasizes the fact that states need to promote
frameworks for the protection of the child against such content.
• Article 19 introduces the whole environment, as children need to be protected
against all forms of violence, physical or mental, including negligence and
exploitation.
• Article 29 states that the purpose of education is to foster the development of the
child, to impart respect for human rights, to convey respect for parents, identity,
language and cultural values, to prepare the child to assume responsibilities in
a liberal society.
Two major advantages can be derived from such a legal document: to provide
legitimacy for decision-makers about their missions that can have national and
international extensions; to avoid the accusation of censorship usually flaunted at
them, without actual grounds in view of the complexities of today’s reality.
Freedom of expression of children is not different from freedom of expression of
adults, and it entails similar rights and responsibilities. The third latent and implicit
advantage is to nip in the bud the risk of undue and disproportionate censorship:
actually applying rules that are age-sensitive and age-appropriate (0–7, 8–12,
13–16/18) empowers adults who feel that their freedom of political expression
has been limited to set forth legitimate claims. Governments that clearly set up
policies for children can be held accountable for the policies they set up for adults.
Differentiating them serves both the interest of the child and the interest of the
adult. Refusing to set up such distinctions only leads to further confusion and to
further risks to adult freedom of expression. Instead of grooming kids for violence
or sexual exploitation, there is an urgent need to groom them for freedom of
expression and peace-making. Such educated grooming needs to be done in positive
environments where children can progress by their own voluntary (and not
unsolicited) attention and trial and error (Frau-Meigs 2011b).
In this context, the human rights of children are considered in tandem with the
human rights of adults and not in isolation. Such an approach could lay the
foundations for an emerging notion of an online private life of children, which
would require privacy protection as well as education provision for young people.
Protection implies accompanying the child in learning about risk and ensuring that
he/she has access to alternative, age-sensitive media as spectacles and services, so
as to build trust. Provision can be understood in two different and complementary
ways: providing the child with content that is age-appropriate and providing the
child with the means to express his/her point of view and to complain. There is
relatively little done for complaining, for posting a point of view, for expressing
anger and fear (in the industry but also in public services and civil society) and
therefore for protecting oneself against programs and services that are detrimental
to one’s well-being, health and agency (Frau-Meigs and Jehel 2003).
Currently, the issue of regulation and children’s rights is being further compli-
cated by the online environment as it creates new conditions for harmful content
and harmful behavior. The effects of such content are magnified because all kinds
of materials are available, those from traditional media as well as those produced
for the new media, with the additional productions coming from all the countries
around the world. So, compared to offline media, some new issues arise as to
choice, evaluation and regulation. Unlike the offline media, specialized outlets
that usually deal with harmful content directed to adult consumption are not distinct
from mainstream offerings. This makes it easy to find such content accidentally,
inadvertently or with minimal effort, even when young people are not really
knowing what they are looking for by choosing to go on such or such a platform.
Some of this content, especially commercial one-to-one marketing, is very difficult
to evaluate for what it is because of the blurred borders between advertising and
content. Besides, unlike the offline media, national regulation of harmful content,
via law enforcement or self-regulated classification of content, is difficult to apply
to materials that originate from countries whose culture and tolerance to harmful
content can be very different from the national culture (Millwood Hargrave and
Livingstone 2006; Frau-Meigs 2011c).
This can explain the constant interest of parents, educators and regulators in
solutions that are related to filtering content and monitoring risks of harm, as part of
the shared responsibility of all those involved in the mediation for children and
young people. The rise of an organized consumer sector, to which these parents and
educators are associated, has led regulatory media agencies to be progressively
involved in the management of disputes concerning ethical standards and public
service obligations of the networks. Regulatory entities have been given the power
to establish services and obligations. They can negotiate the contracts with each
operator, even in domains that pertain to the general interest, like the protection of
minors. They are supposed to pay attention to the existing rights and expectations of
this section of the public. They can be seized a posteriori and have certain degrees
of freedom to apply sanctions (broadcasting apologies, fines, formal summons).
Some of them have a complaints bureau, as part of the service to users, whose
purpose is to ensure that remarks and criticisms emanating from the audience reach
the program managers and the news editors. They can also establish public service
obligations for commercial media, such as the production of quality programming
for young people or limitations on advertising in youth programming. Some of
them have even fostered critical reading programs such as “Arrêt sur Images” in
France, aimed at children and their families on public radio and television channels.
They can be produced in association with ombudsmen but this is not necessarily the
case. Excerpts from programs are debated in terms of how they were produced and
what editorial decisions were made in the process. Producers meet experts in media
and education, and often some members of the public who express their reactions.
464 D. Frau-Meigs
These regulatory entities tend to exert a soft pressure on the media industry in
matters of creating labeling codes or classificatory systems. Such systems aim to
classify programs prior to broadcasting according to their content, by signaling the
presence or absence of violent or pornographic messages as well as other categories
of material that might damage young people’s sensibilities. They belong to a subset
of measures for the protection of minors and the public service obligations. Their
nature and structure vary according to the channels, as they are often elaborated by
screening committees within the media itself. They can be associated with sched-
uling restrictions, even sometimes with broadcasting prohibitions. They can be
reviewed in annual reports and submitted to discussions at regular intervals with the
regulatory authorities. They give a strong ethical signal, and though they were
perceived at first as a form of censorship, they have progressively been accepted as
a form of parental decision-making tool.
17.4.2 Participation and Empowerment
Empowerment and play are supported by uses and gratification theory and lead to
a different approach to policymaking as the weight of responsibility is shifted from
the media and their professionals to the public and their capacity for participation
and mobilization.
17.4.2.1 Modelling Youth Empowerment

The term “empowerment” (coming from management) has become positively
connected with well-being and associated with participation in the media (Bennett
2008; Buckingham 2002; Livingstone 2002). Empowerment is regarded as provid-
ing a solution to promote creativity and reduce the feeling of alienation by the
media. Empowerment involves developing the skills for self-sufficiency, with the
hope that it will lead to more self-esteem and more opportunities for lifelong
development. Empowerment then reflects attitudinal and dispositional features,
and especially the young person’s civic agency to make decisions and implement
them in his/her own life (Kotilainen 2009).
Empowerment has been used to describe young people’s engagement with
several media (e.g., mobile phones, social media, television) and their abilities
with varied modes of expression (text, music, image). Their integration in their
everyday life is described as “mediated youth cultures” (Hodkinson 2007). Though
there are problems with the prescriptive tendencies about empowerment, there is
increasing research on the problems young people may face to reach empowerment
or the conditions that are necessary for media and adults to make such an approach
successful. It is often assumed that young people will welcome media tools as new
ways of playing and studying and that this will somehow lead to civic participation
and engagement.
Yet the role of media is not obvious in fostering youth citizenship beyond mere
participation and play. Often the hype has resided in promoting the media them-
selves as being able to bring in empowerment by the mere force of their inductive
seductiveness and intuitive ease of use. Researchers have noted differences among
youngsters: some engage more actively than others, some engage more actively on
some media than on other media, and the Internet is not necessarily their preferred
mode of entry (Dahlgren and Olsson 2007; Livingstone et al. 2007).
When modeling engagement in relation to youth participation, four types of
civic identities of young people in relation to media have been proposed by
researchers: “seekers,” “communalists,” “communicators,” and “activists” (Living-
stone et al. 2004; Kotilainen and Rantala 2009). The seekers are the young people
who are potential civic agents but are still looking for the issues and communities
with which to engage. The communalists are those who keep their engagement
minimal, without much publicity, and engage in peer or hobby communities. The
communicators are those who are very connected and use many media but do not
engage politically. The activists are the young who are politically engaged and who
look for media as public spaces to communicate and share their views.
The whole point of empowerment seems to be related to real-life involvement
and practice, with civic and political participation defined as real experiences about
influencing, new ways to participate in civic affairs and formal participatory
processes of civic engagement. The media are supposed to offer “publicity” – for
content production, provided by several media. The training process to reach such
empowerment is done with a pedagogy of learning by doing, and intense interaction
with peers and adults alike, especially youth workers and media professionals
(Kotilainen 2009).
Socialization research brings more insights into this process of empowerment.
Observation reveals that the much-touted peer-to-peer monitoring
is in fact a combination of peer-moderating and peer-protecting, which implies
a high level of awareness of both risks and norms. This combination is
very important for building trust and then engaging in friendly interactions. It
confirms the bottom-up approach to ethics as initiated and enforced by partici-
pants who are on an equal footing because they share the same interests, whatever
their age and their position of authority (young or old, simple participants or
webmasters). The real underlying meaning of the noun “peer” is thus clarified: it
does not mean people of the same age necessarily, as often assumed, but rather
it means people who partake of a situation willingly, the situation thus
establishing the “peerness” – a situation that also suggests that people look closely
at each other, constantly (the meaning of the verb “to peer”) (Frau-Meigs and
Meigs 2009).
The felt experience of interaction and of ethics can be a means of experiencing
citizenship and human rights principles, as an explicit series of conducts
and behaviors; the non-ethical behaviors are not so much transgressions (wilful
breaking of the norms) or disengagement from these norms (because they do not
seem to apply in virtual reality), but rather a result of absence of transmission
of these norms. When they are transmitted, they tend to be accepted. It also suggests
that ethics act as a kind of heuristics, i.e., short-term shortcuts that have been
acquired through quick and repeated drills, in various actions. Transmission
then is a cumulative process where the interaction with the technological tool is
466 D. Frau-Meigs
taken together with peer and adult mediations, in such a way that it is the norms
and not so much the risks that are assimilated by young people (Jehel 2010;
Frau-Meigs 2011c).
Socialization appears as a cognitive process of internalization where several
pieces of information are recycled, remixed and reused in the context of mediated
cultures to be put together into a dynamic repertoire or strategies for ethical
conduct. Socialization sensitizes young people to norms more than to risks, and
prepares them not to accept just any norms, unquestioned. The process of empow-
erment can thus be seen as having multiple steps, as a series of specific cognitive
assessments and competences that may reinforce positive attitudes to ethics and
values as felt experience:
1. Engagement is part of the motivation to join media as social networks, as long as
they solicit attention and participation and alleviate the feeling of fear or
threat while maintaining a low level of vigilance.
2. Anticipation is the initial sense that what one is doing increases the feeling of
agency and self-control over the situation, as young people build expectations
and can transfer some of their skills acquired in one media to other media.
3. Interpretation is part of the process of appraisal, as young people evaluate the
situation, the agents, the interactions and their consequences and build skills for
evaluating the reliability of sources and of helpers, which consolidates trust.
4. Reflexivity is connected to practices accumulated through time and increases
self-awareness about the process of self-protection, while adding to the pleasure
of media interactions.
5. Performance is fostered by the fact of assuming other identities, via avatars and
pseudos, to have a better understanding of social roles and expectations about
attitudes and values.
6. Co-construction is strongly related to cultural context and elements of social
accountability and collective responsibility, which alleviates the stress of ethics
put on the sole responsibility of the individual, be it of children or adults.
7. Revision is part of the awareness that values and ethical positions need
to be reviewed and sometimes revisited, in an empowerment framework
(young as user) rather than in a security framework (young as consumer)
(Frau-Meigs 2009).
Findings show that young people are able to protect themselves via online
practices and may seek the mediation of adults, either as players with their children
or as virtual parental figures. Parental mediation, also visible through social pres-
sure and the work of non-governmental organizations (NGOs) from civil society,
shows the dynamics between protection policies and self-empowerment practices,
which should not be constructed in opposition but in synergy.
17.4.2.2 Self-Regulation by the Media Industry

Believing in empowerment and participation of the public tends to lead to a hands-
off approach to regulation, which makes the advocates of gratification and the
industry into objective – albeit unwitting – allies and partners. The media industry
and its professionals have therefore taken a long time to move from their staunch
initial position of claiming a total independence from the public and the state to
a more open stance of dialogue with their audiences that has led to different forms
of self-regulation among professionals. Media professionals have strained to make
their own curriculum (explicit and hidden) more transparent, especially concerning
their work ethics. They have elaborated a variety of tools aimed at the public and for
internal use. Through these tools they elucidate the value system upon which
content is elaborated.
The solutions adopted correspond to self-regulation, characterized by the elab-
oration and the application by communicators themselves of instruments to gain the
trust of the public. They vary depending on the countries but on the whole they tend
to assert similar processes. They establish standards and guidelines that communi-
cators must abide by in their daily work. Such commitments are often written in the
charters establishing a media sector. They underline the importance of freedom of
expression and are a reminder that information is a common social good, and not
just a commercial product. These principles can then be reinterpreted at the level of
each media institution and professional, in the shape of a code of ethics for each
individual’s behavior. They underline the awareness of the social responsibility of
communicators, which is why they are often referred to as “Media Accountability
Systems” (MAS).
Such MAS occupy a wide spectrum and are not very discriminate in their
address to young people’s issues. They can be made in the form of charters or
guidelines for good practices that help professionals to deal with thorny social
issues, like the representation of violence or of content that can hurt the public’s
sensitivity, the portrayal of minorities and of young people under the age of
consent, the choice of words and the appropriate level of language, etc. They are
not binding per se and they are mostly directions for use.
More visible in some cases is the use of ombudsmen for children, for news or for
a whole television or radio station who try to relay the suggestions of the users and
the complaints that are lodged. They can remind their colleagues of the basic
guidelines ruling the profession: journalistic interest in a topic, attention to broad-
casting time, application of the recommendations of the charters or guidelines for
good practices. They can have their own program or a time to answer the public,
which gives them a pedagogical or educational function. They can thus be
facilitators for a better understanding of key questions in communication, among
professionals and among citizens. Their mediation can be related to an informal,
internal negotiation, without going as far as arbitration.
Some media go as far as creating ethics or liaison committees, made up of
members from outside the media environment (teachers, therapists, association
leaders, etc.) whose expertise and competence can represent some of the interests
of the general public and of the child. They aid the media in exploring ways to
present democratic debate and respect for human dignity, to protect minors and to
take responsibility for the socialization of young people. They point out any lack of
468 D. Frau-Meigs
rigor in news production, any absence in the news agenda and follow-up, as well as
any accumulation of trivia to the detriment of issues of national and international
importance. This role can also be undertaken by professional journals or press
councils but they are not specifically devoted to children’s well-being.
More recently, some commercial broadcasters have encouraged call-in
shows where young people can express their views. The Internet sites for such
programs as well as channels programming for young people tend to relay them.
This opens additional possibilities for education thanks to interactivity. It is one of
the humblest MAS but also one of the most efficient, because of its simplicity, its
immediacy and its aura of authenticity and participation.
In general, these MAS tend to remain within the sphere of news, not fiction.
People in charge of self-regulation in the media, like the ombudsmen, tend to think
about the impact of programs on children and teenagers in isolation. There is no
system, no institution and no network to organize them in regular seminars on their
activities. There is hardly any training for the MAS personnel. They seldom meet
their colleagues in other media, let alone researchers or association members.
All these encounters could give more sense and efficiency to their everyday
practice. At present, MAS have a limited local scope, without much claim to
be representative. They often rely on the personality and goodwill of a few
participants. Their presence tends to diminish in direct relation to any decreased
mobilization of public opinion. In their reliance on personal relations, they tend to
lay the burden of social responsibility for news onto a single person – the journalist,
while hiding the role of the media industry. This personal approach can seem naı̈ve
and explains the reservations the profession harbors in their regard.
Besides news, media professionals have adopted other solutions for their dia-
logue with the public where other program genres are concerned (e.g., fiction,
games, advertising). They have created self-regulated monitoring entities. In adver-
tising, where practice can sometimes run afoul of the citizens’ right to true and
contrasted information, self-monitoring is especially common. As the rules and
guidelines differ from one transmission vehicle to another, these self-regulating
entities tend to have a transversal competence across all media. Sponsors join on
a voluntary basis and they can refer to self-regulators for advice. Such entities can
formulate rules and recommendations, so as to be in step with the networks’ public
service obligations like the clear-cut separation between programs and advertising.
When the public expresses concerns about the image of women and children,
hidden sponsoring or product placement, these entities can respond.
Elaborating labels and classificatory systems seems to be the preferred solution
for online issues. In some countries, videotapes, DVDs and video games have to be
classified, either in a voluntary manner or according to requirements formulated by
the regulatory entity in concert with the publishers and producers. The classification
choice must be fully displayed on the product cover (almost always in case of
violent or pornographic content). The mechanism for classification needs to be
activated and maintained by the producers themselves and, in some countries, ad
hoc commissions to solve actionable cases have been created. In most countries this
voluntary classification done by producers is not connected to sales or rentals to

minors and does not put a limitation on their access to products that are not made
for them.
Offering scrambling or remote control locking systems is also part of self-
regulation. Parents can use them to receive scrambled programs or to block their
children’s access to programs or websites that do not correspond to their age or to
their family values. Such systems rely on technical capacity and access to digital
tools via satellite, even if more and more television sets are built with integrated
chips that can be programmed at will. In some countries, double encryption systems
are being tested, to draw the parents’ attention to the need to make decisions on
content availability. Some Internet servers offer these locking systems for free
download. This is particularly true on the official sites of some television channels,
and also on some digital service provider sites and on sites dedicated to games and
activities for children.
The sense of ethics of professionals in the private sector needs to be called upon,
as their practices and conducts can influence and frame the conduct of young people
via the formats, the constraints, the content and the common they make it possible
to create and distribute online. Protection of minors is part of the legal measures
online professionals have to deal with in real life, at the same level as property
rights or copyrights. The private sector can implement measures to modify the
conduct of its own designers and providers. Commercial services have developed
a flurry of guidelines and charters, more or less coherently, not to mention
a modicum of moderation on some platforms (e.g., webmasters, mediators, men-
tors, coaches). They all provide sections on protection of minors, putting it in
a human rights perspective. Such is the case with the European Internet Services
Providers Association (EuroISPA) “Human rights guidelines for Internet service
providers” (2008), the Interactive Software Federation of Europe (ISFE) “Human
rights guidelines for online games providers” (2008), and the coalition of social
networking sites “Safer social networking principles for the EU” (2009).
So, there is a plethora of ethical strategies accessible to users: charters, classi-
fication, white and black lists, hotlines, walled gardens, etc. The evaluation of their
effective implementation, their relevance and their use is still under-studied and too
recent to come to conclusions about their efficiency. Future research should exam-
ine what works best: the tools developed “spontaneously” to promote trust, the tools
developed owing to the “gentle pressure” of civil society groups or the tools
“negotiated” with state entities concerned about liability and safety.
17.4.3 The New Trend Towards Co-regulation and Participation

with Civil Society
Adults are acting against risk by a mix of regulation and self-regulation policies,
with a whole range of self-censorship solutions for media accountability: the family
hour, parental warnings, advisories, classification and technical filtering.
470 D. Frau-Meigs
The assumptions about these types of solutions are being belied by the reality of
reception and use on the new media that encourage flux and immersion. They do not
take into account children’s agency and self-protection.
Like self-regulation, co-regulation implies a modicum of cooperation between
the media industry and other sectors of society, but in a more active, organized
sense. Co-regulation in media education is a negotiation in which all the resource-
persons around the child (parents, educators, therapists, etc.) are on an equal footing
with the producers and distributors. A number of institutions have a major role in
this domain, especially the self-regulation entities of the media sector as well as the
ministries or government bodies with related mandates (culture, communication,
and education).
Co-regulation cannot substitute for public authorities, especially when funda-
mental rights are concerned. Nonetheless it adds value to the general interest. In
some countries, like France which is a pioneer with its Forum on the Rights of the
Internet, it is considered as the regulation of self-regulation. In other countries, it is
considered rather like a negotiation to be held in multi-stakeholder partnerships
and forums (Frau-Meigs and Jehel 2003).
“Governance” frames the notion of co-regulation. Governance is a form of
government that aims at re-founding the democratic basis for the exercise of
power, by proceeding with directives and recommendations rather than laws and
sanctions. It implies a multiplicity of actors, at all levels, local, national, regional
and even international. It encourages participation and responsible behavior from
citizens in the face of today’s complexity, to which the media environment con-
tributes massively. Depending on the countries and the regions of the world, the
actors of civil society incorporated in governance may vary, but they tend to
represent citizen groups (consumers, families, parents, youth, etc.), NGOs, trade
unions and corporate organizations, professional groups, youth and popular educa-
tion movements, charitable institutions, local communities and researchers.
Civil society associations related to media exist everywhere in the world and, in
some countries, they have gained considerable importance. They tend either to be
organizations specifically dedicated to communication issues or to be consumer or
professional groups that have added communication and the media to their general
agenda. In most cases, their commitment leads to thematic choices. Often they
defend rights that are not respected either by the ruling political powers or by the
dominant commercial powers. The most current and recurrent thematic choices,
whatever the media vehicles, are related to media panics: the presence of violence
or of sexually explicit content, the protection of minors, the representation of
women and minorities, advertising, objectivity in news and media education.
Civil society associations base their activity on the awareness that it is impos-
sible to expect economic or political actors to take initiatives of their own accord. In
a context of governance, the associations’ claim responds to the expectation for
direct participation in a democratic process. This claim includes the media that have
long been considered an essential mechanism in democratic political theory. Civil
society associations want to participate fully in the co-regulation of the media
industry, not only at the implementation of regulations and follow-up level of

enforcements, where traditionally they have acted, but also at the decision-making
level. They require essential information in a sufficient time frame so as to make
their own counterproposals and additional contributions. They want to develop
a structured relationship with the media and to establish ethical relations with
professionals. In the USA for instance, Action for Children’s Television spent
more than two decades lobbying the American administration and the media
regulatory entities to make sure the industry would apply some of the basic
principles of the protection of minors (having to do with advertising, violence,
etc.). Similar actions have been conducted in other countries, like Japan (the Forum
for Children’s and Citizen’s Television), Canada (the Alliance for Children and
Television) and France (the Collectif Interassociatif Enfance et Médias).
Civil society entities have a wide range of actions, such as participating in
advisory councils for programs or multi-stakeholder forums. In a variety of
countries, the entities in charge of regulating or co-regulating the media officially
appoint council members who come from the world of education and of pediatrics.
They can present state of the art research and practices. These appointees can
participate in exchanges that extend beyond the decision-makers to include
producers and broadcasters. They can help write up recommendations about
certain values, certain content issues, editorial strategies and specific formats that
correspond to the expectations of the community they represent.
They can create media monitoring entities. This is one of the MAS most favored
by civil society. The aim is to create stable structures allowing associations to
exercise a degree of surveillance in relation to the young public. These watch-
groups also raise awareness among the general public, stimulate and popularize
research, and foster dialogue with the communicators, the government officials and
the researchers. Beyond the creation of a space for exchange with the public
authorities and the media on issues related to the media environment of young
people, such structures can litigate against industry, regulation and co-regulation
entities. They tend to receive support from non-profit foundations and collectives,
and depending on the country, they can act as watchdogs and denounce or offer
critical analysis strategies. They are quite numerous on the Internet, where the
swiftness of information and response provides them with an increased capacity to
remain on alert.
They can provide materials and platforms for activism, by organizing multi-
stakeholder events, developing resource centers, publishing all sorts of materials for
literacy. Such actions can range from festivals to summer universities to workshops
and also event such as “the week of the press in review.” They attract multi-
stakeholder participants and guests from the industry, the public authorities and
the network of associations. Such semi-formal and semi-official meetings contrib-
ute to building trust and habits of exchange among actors who rarely have the
opportunity to meet in neutral places.
A whole array of measures and applications that foster the well-being of the
child can be considered along public and civic policies that foster participation:
472 D. Frau-Meigs
to pay attention to programs for young people, to look for their diversified content
(so as to compensate, e.g., for the enormous lack of news for children), to check on
advertising and marketing practices and to re-enforce ethics at all levels and with all
actors implicated (via committees, charters, ombudsmen, etc.). They can provide
guidelines and benchmarks for all sectors, public, private and civil society, while
keeping in mind the right of the general public to media and communication
services.
17.4.4 Media Education as the Long-Term Solution
Both cultivation and gratification theories agree on the benefits of media education
as the best filter. The school system in its approach to the issue has reflected the
major trends in the research community. It has fluctuated and, to some degree,
continues to do so between three different pedagogical stances: the protectionist
perspective (dominant in the 1960s), the cultural perspective (dominant in
the 1980s) and the participatory perspective (promoted in the mid-1990s).
These perspectives tend to coexist, in a variety of combinations, in many countries.
As a result, in the European Union alone, great gaps exist between states that fully
include media education in their curricula, such as Austria and England, and those
that resist such inclusion, such as France, Spain and Italy (Buckingham 2002,
2003).
These perspectives carry with them a whole set of pedagogical aims and
methods that are not always mutually compatible. The protectionist perspective
either focuses on the risks of manipulation (targeting advertising mostly) or uses
audiovisual material as an illustration of the classical canons of some other branch
of learning (literature, history, the arts). The cultural perspective too can use media
in a traditional and illustrative setting, but it aims primarily at creating a critical
citizenry and focuses on content analysis of audiovisual productions. In France, it
tends to privilege news, to the detriment of fiction, across media (written press
primarily, and increasingly TV and the Internet). The participatory perspective
prefers to facilitate access to the means of production, and to empower young
people via mastery of the tool. Familiarity with the techniques of audiovisual
creation and production is supposed to bring about a critical reading of the media.
These perspectives all run against the stumbling block of evaluation of pro-
cedures and assessment of knowledge acquisition; their efficiency still needs to be
proved systematically, beyond the measurement of students’ motivation. As
a result, they are often considered with suspicion by teaching bodies and school
administrations. Besides, their full integration into the school system entails dis-
ruptions in a number of areas: pedagogical (how to evaluate?), legal (how to deal
with copyright issues?), technical (how to keep up with advances in equipment?).
As a result, the last two perspectives tend to be implemented outside the school
system, e.g., in France by the Centre de Liaison de l’Enseignement et des Moyens
d’Information (CLEMI) and Centre d’Entraı̂nement aux Méthodes Actives
(CEMÉA), with all sorts of local initiatives, but no national focus.
These perspectives tend to deny or exclude the actual media environment of

youngsters, considered as much too popular or as too far from the higher objectives
of education. As a matter of fact, the pleasure of young people – and the attendant
motivation – seems to be a sure criterion for the exclusion of media from the school
environment. Such exclusion entails a number of deficits: the lack of decoding of
fiction genres, the absence of clarification of confusing issues such as addiction or
violence, the misperceptions related to (self-)regulatory policies and economic
production strategies, etc.
However, research shows how much enthusiasm media activities can create
among young people: they can be reconciled with their everyday imagination and
their cultural practices (Gonnet 2003; Jacquinot 2002). Censoring their media
culture tends to make them feel guilty and uneasy: they cannot speak with adults
about their basic preferences and references. This lack of communication,
perversely, increases their dependency on media productions, whereas they could
establish an aesthetic and critical distance if allowed to voice their tastes and their
questions. Young people find themselves in a double bind of denial, which ties in
knots their values and references, while not allowing them to criticize those fostered
by the school system. This double bind can account for the two most common
reproaches the teachers currently and recurrently aim at them: their deplorable state
of ennui, or their crass incivility.
This double bind, unproductive as it is, fosters a rift of mistrust between the two
parties concerned; it underlines the wider and wider discrepancy between the young-
sters’ life inside school and outside its protective precincts. The divergent missions of
the media culture (entertainment) and the school culture (knowledge acquisition and
social integration) are in no way clarified by these contradictory pedagogical stances.
The media consumed by young people tend to foster values in direct opposition to
those taught at school. Whereas education promotes discipline, work, long-term
investment, critical distance and evaluation, media (television especially) promote
effortless success, instant gratification, exposure of privacy and glamorized, perverse
or violent behavior. Besides, media tend to introduce foreign values (mostly of
American origin) into local society, whereas school tends to promote national values
and attitudes, parochial and limited as they sometimes may be.
As for media literacy research, it is still in a budding state. Research shows that,
even though young people demonstrate a capacity to decode some media content,
their spontaneous and familiar consumption does not necessarily lead to real
knowledge, especially when they lack the intellectual and physical maturity to
understand some content (violent or pornographic). They need adults to help
them make sense of what they see. Besides, being familiar with the media does
not necessarily cause children to resist their manipulation: seeing is not believing,
but seeing is not switching off the screen either. Being aware of manipulation does
not bring about the desire to extract oneself from the fluid media environment, as
exemplified by the phenomena of fan cultures around some cult series or of the
reality programming frenzies across the world. Collateral gains, in terms of identity
formation, group identification and peer relations can be much stronger than all
rational reasoning.
474 D. Frau-Meigs
Hence several crucial questions remain, about competences and skills as well as
about the basic training of teachers, which is not always attuned to the child’s
development and to the new challenges set by media. There is a relative consensus
among researchers that the media literacy competences that can be taught in formal
settings are comprehension, critical thinking and creativity. Additionally, in infor-
mal settings, other competences are suggested as important, especially in view of
protection and empowerment: citizenship, consumption, intercultural communica-
tion and, increasingly, conflict resolution (Frau-Meigs 2011b). As for teacher
training, it must be built on a coherent curriculum. Currently most media education
curricula focus on secondary education. Necessary as it may be, this training cannot
do without reaching out also to teachers in lower grades, such as primary schools
and even kindergarten. Research shows that the impact of media literacy training
is most efficient on children aged 9–12, when they are more likely to trust adults
and accept rational knowledge; older age groups tend to be more preoccupied
with identity formation and construction of otherness. At younger ages,
adults can still vie with peers for influence, a possibility that dwindles when full
adolescence kicks in.
On the educational continuum, the media themselves can play an important role.
Education is part of the obligations of public service radio and television, and media
education should naturally find its place within this mission. However, media
education on television should not be constrained only to public service. The
private sector has the means to produce entertaining programs that can also touch
and educate a young public. Innovative programs and initiatives should be encour-
aged on all networks, including cable networks targeting children, possibly with tax
breaks and other incentives. The arrival of digital television and of the Internet
should not create delusions about the so-called new economy: it is still television’s
capacity for storytelling that will be used as a test of young people’s fears, pleasures
and gratifications.
17.5 Methods, Measures, and Indicators
Each theory comes with its own array of methodologies and measurements. Culti-
vation theory tends to be highly quantitative and privileges content analysis
methods and statistical surveys, as it tends to consider mass effects at the macro
level. Gratification theory tends to be highly qualitative and privileges ethnographic
and anthropological observations, with empirical field work, as it tends to consider
uses at the micro level of small communities and youth cultures. They both have
limitations that have been picked up by more recent research trends. These have led
to a complexification of research methods and protocols; they have evolved from
the simple transfer of methods from areas outside media and communication
studies (e.g., sociology, psychology, ethnography) to a multidisciplinary mix
particular to media and communication studies; they have moved from strict
considerations of a single media outlet (television, radio, the Internet) to a more
complex approach that takes into account mixed media and multimodalities.
17.5.1 Research Methods and Methodologies
Research methodologies involving children are fraught with inherent difficulties

due to this specific population and the greater need for ethical and legal precautions
necessary to approach them. It is always delicate to deal with children, especially
when analyzing harmful content as it is problematic to show images or texts that
might upset the subjects under study. As a result, there is an endemic criticism of
any research on children with arguments that contest the validity of laboratory
conditions (they do not reproduce real-life experience) to arguments that emphasize
the lack of systematic studies of a longitudinal nature (no cohort effects verified, no
long-term effects demonstrated, no lasting benefits of play asserted), not to mention
arguments that consider children as bad self-reporters and adults as victims of
single observer bias.
To answer such endemic criticism, research on media and child well-being has
moved from a simple picture of direct effects as depicted by early experimental
research to more complex causal and non-causal relations, re-establishing the
importance of situation, context and culture. Early research was narrow in agenda
and focus with practical steps usually characterized by laboratory experiments,
especially in the USA (in the tradition set by Albert Bandura et al. 1969). As a result
media were given a primary role and there was little recognition of other variables
that could have been confounding variables. The move to field research allowed for
the exploration of a larger range of user situations and contexts, and deflected
attention from media per se. More variables appeared that needed to be taken into
account and provided a wealth of alternatives for uses and solutions. The return to
lab experimentation was then focused on the need to discern more clearly a range of
additional variables and a range of outcomes. Consequently, results were complex-
ified by the recognition of unexpected effects but also of unexpected inputs and
outcomes from users. This shift in methods has led to the gradual recognition that
well-being was mediated by a whole range of communications means and
messages.
Currently, media studies on well-being are not dominated by a specific agenda
anymore (identify and dispel ill-being) but rather by a variety of research questions
that consider diverse areas of interest, especially play, identity and empowerment to
increase well-being. Though the basic research question remains – “to what degree
and how do media impact the well-being of the child?” – issues and areas of interest
can vary, from looking at structure and message content of the media, to consider-
ing individual characteristics and effective media use.
Such a broadening of the spectrum has been made possible by a move away from
quantitative methods to qualitative methods. Ethnographic and anthropological
studies have revised their methods to integrate digital media spaces and tribes,
with virtual ethnography (Hine 2000). An increasing number of researchers are
seeking to carry out studies that engage with children and young people rather than
use them as passive sources of data, in spite of the ethical issues raised with exposure
to some material. Some of the relevant methodological issues tend to combine focus
group discussions and individual interviews. A range of techniques have proved
476 D. Frau-Meigs
helpful, such as asking young people to keep diaries and logs or analyzing the traces
they leave online and matching them with self-perceptions offline.
The trend seems to be moving towards quali-quanti approaches, as a means of
diversifying empirical approaches and the design of protocols and choices of
corpora. Quali-quanti analyses present themselves as a middle ground and try to
deal with “thick” cases as well as “thin” cases to take up the categories of
description proposed by Cleeford Geertz (1973). They can deal with big numbers
as much as small cases. They tend to reassess the value of case studies, and their
capacity to explain complex phenomena not so much through generalization as
through a supplement or an alternative to other methods. They tend to posit that
formal generalization is overvalued as a source of scientific development, whereas
case studies are underestimated; they also argue that they do not have a greater bias
towards verification than other methods of inquiry (Flyvbjerg 2004).
In this search for new design methods and tools, information and communication
technologies have offered their own kind of solutions. The Internet has provided
more extensive fieldwork as one of the solutions and, increasingly, multiple forms
of data and of data collection. Access to cheap, innovative software for website
analysis and data collection has been facilitated by the computer community. More
techniques for quantitative surveys and unobtrusive observation online have been
offered to researchers. Social network analysis for instance has been enhanced by
tools for mapping interactions among people across platforms and across media,
with visual displays that focus on the nodes of the networks and not simply on
individual interactions.
17.5.2 The Nature of Online/Offline Interactions as the Next Horizon

for Research
The new media environment is going to present new challenges in measurement as

well as new solutions in designing and surveying whole populations of young
people and whole ranges of diversified uses over a wide range of media formats.
As Shanahan and Morgan state (1999, p. 218): “The likelihood is that cultivation
researchers will be able to tap into the same technology used by advertisers. (. . .)
A new future of computer-aided cultivation research holds many possibilities. The
idea of tracking relationships between exposure and beliefs, in a real-time environ-
ment, may finally provide the realistic longitudinal data that have been lacking in
cultivation. (. . .) It would be particularly important to do this research with children
and adolescents, to see how viewing shapes opinions and beliefs in their more
formative stages.”
The likelihood for computer-aided gratification research will be similar, bring-
ing some answers to endemic criticism on mediated well-being. Researchers will be
able to look at identity development and well-being in the face of “reduced cues”
(Walther 1996). They will be able to monitor socially revealing behavior, self-
disclosure, socio-emotional conversation and impression formation over large
cohorts. They will be able to design experiments about issues of immediacy,
disclosure, trust and creation of a sense of co-presence almost similar to face-to-

face communication.
As digital media become widely used, and are no longer considered as new, the
likelihood is that there will be less focus on online communication as being different
from offline interaction. The focus will be more on the overlap in online and offline
contacts, contexts and activities. Small group processes, especially voluntary social
groups, as well as issues of community and friendship will yield more thick descrip-
tions and complex results. The connection between neurosciences, social cognition
and interactive computer tools will also bring in new models and theories on how the
brain works in relation to media, and how this connection contributes to the devel-
opment of the child. The recognition that there are many modes of interaction with
media (one to one, one to many, many to many, a few to many) as well as the
awareness that they have built-in power structures will probably reignite the debate
on effects and cultivation versus uses and gratification.
17.6 Future Agenda: Revisiting Mediated Well-Being
Such complex intellectual theories and design methods do not compensate, however,
the general feeling of the “death of childhood” that is prevailing among many
researchers, including those extolling gratification theory such as David Buckingham
(2000a) or Shirley Turkle (2010). This feeling of loss is related to Erikson’s stage of
“latency,” the sense that childhood, especially the ages between 6 and 12, is
a privileged moment for self and social construction, when the child is busy building
his/her identity, creating inner scripts for life, estimating his/her status among peers
and adults. This stage seems to be the target of most online media, as they move their
levels of commercial targeting and advertising from teens to pre-teens, i.e., decreas-
ing the scale age to reach children between 8 and 12 (Montgomery 2001).
These rapid changes bring with them the realization that childhood is a social
and cultural construction and that media are taking a bigger and bigger portion of
the time to do such construction. The future is all the more difficult to predict as the
media are on shifting grounds as well. Some uncertainties remain as to how the two
subsystems of the digital era will evolve: TV-based developments will continue and
so will computer-based developments. Digital media might seem as if they have
displaced audiovisual ones but, in fact, online television remains a major provider
of stories, as narrative remains a central piece of social learning and interaction. The
audiovisual networks are still the providers of dominant narratives (series, games,
cartoons, etc.) that are then recycled on the digital social networks: there is a shuttle
screen situation as it were, in which what happens on the top surface screen of
audiovisual media sources for fiction and information is discussed within the deep
bottom screen of digital network media with feedback to the top surface screen
(with fanfictions and web series, e.g., but also modified scripts and scenarios
according to audience reactions).
So the agenda for future research will need to revisit well-being as a whole, adding
mediated well-being fully into it. The realization that well-being is also a construct
478 D. Frau-Meigs
that moves across time and socio-cultural dimensions is also needed to understand
how digital media might influence the child in his/her different stages of develop-
ment. One evolution to follow in particular will be the relation between playing and
gaming, as these two sorts of activities tend to bifurcate offline and online. As gaming
online takes over playing offline, the consequences for emotional growth, sense of
self, friendship skills will probably evolve and will need to be monitored.
Further research needs also to be conducted on ways to understand better the
strengths and limitations of young people’s online empowerment and ethical prac-
tices. Currently, there is no guarantee that such practices are really used to test their
assumptions about real-life situations and interpret real-life experience of risks,
opportunities and of ethics. Their evaluative judgments related to ethics, like “good
vs bad” (attitudes) or ought vs should (values), and the passage from sense-making to
decision-making must be assessed more finely. This implies the need to look closely
at young people’s ability to pool knowledge, to tap into somebody else’s experience
to achieve a common goal like ensuring safety or experiencing ethics. Finally, the
operational and cognitive stages that lead to the connection between ethics as felt
experience and morals as real-life reference via the human rights framework have to
be better evaluated, as ethics cannot be reduced to self-regulation and, conversely,
human rights cannot just be enforced via regulations and sanctions.
Considering these issues leads to two areas of investigation that are adjacent to
child well-being research and are also undergoing changes in paradigms: policy
regulation and media education. Changing paradigms from a protectionist view of
the media environment to a more participatory sustainable development view
requires some fine-tuning in all the sectors considered, be it self-regulation,
regulation or co-regulation. This can be achieved by paying more attention to the
status of mediators, with in-depth training and independence; creating and
maintaining debate around guidelines and codes of ethics within the profession;
including consumers and members of civil society in monitoring committees;
homogenizing classificatory criteria within networks and across media, with
more transparency. This implies that several entities must look after the media
environment and promote its sustainable development, not just the ministry for
communication and culture (when it exists) but also the ministries for health,
family, education, youth, etc. Cross-sector bodies must be created to help these
administrations work together and act as liaison agencies. Classificatory
efforts must be supported as an aid to adult decision-making, not as censorship,
and they need to be monitored from outside the industry as well as from within, not
entrusted to a technological device only. Besides, public service activities and
public domain productions must be supported financially and legally to allow for
advertising-free zones and pluralism of programs and content in the media fodder.
As for media education, it must be promoted on a larger, coherent national scale.
It can best accommodate the balance in paradigms, between an environmental
perspective that pushes for control and protection, and a sustainable development
view that promotes empowerment and participation of young people. Media liter-
acy should therefore address non-canonical issues that preoccupy public opinion
and youngsters (violence, advertising, identity, etc.); it should emphasize selective
patterns of media consumption together with media use for opinion formation
and citizenship. The objectives in the long run should be to make young people
aware of their rights, their tastes, and their capacity to express themselves through
media and with media. New trends in media education should be supported
and sustained by research, especially the emerging concept of “transliteracy,”
defined as a means to be literate about the two-way shuttle screen in order to
accommodate:
1. The multimedia dimensions of current literacy – being able to read, write, count
and compute with print and digital tools and via all sorts of formats from book
to blog.
2. The trans-domain requirements for full literacy – being able to search,
test, validate, modify information as understood in computation (code), in
communication (news) and in library science (document) (Frau-Meigs 2012).
Finally, media and communication research will need to incorporate better
childhood studies and to complexify measurements of children’s well-being, to
take into account the amount of time and energy spent with media. The classical
dimensions of well-being such as health, safety, risk and education need to be
augmented to add the role of media besides the traditional role of family and school.
Subjective well-being is the category that lends itself most to exploration and
refinement as it deals with self-perceptions and with brain–media interaction that
are increasingly clarified by neurosciences and social cognition. This approach
should focus more on how the mental balances the material state of well-being
and could rely on children’s own definitions of how media impact their lives, thus
departing from adult-centered interpretations. This trend is being carried on by
Asher Ben-Arieh and his colleagues who try to refine well-being indicators
for policymaking (Ben-Arieh and George 2006). Their call for the monitoring of
positive outcomes of youth development could be applied to media and extend
policymaking beyond the current trend to focus mostly on the measurement
of harmful content and harmful behavior.
Media and communication studies could thus contribute to the future of mediated
well-being, online and offline. Such a field of research is ideally placed to help
communities of interpretation understand the patterns and the stakes of the new
“cultures of information” that requires young people to be screen-savvy. Children
have been left out of this fluctuating arena where social issues and rituals are being
elaborated and yet their needs and uses should be increasingly incorporated in the early
design of research protocols as well as in the discussions relevant for policymaking.
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Child Well-Being: Anthropological
Perspectives 18
Edward G. J. Stevenson and Carol M. Worthman
18.1 Introduction
Anthropology commonly is regarded as the study of human origins or exotic

cultures, but in fact, its remit embraces all aspects of humanity. It is distinguished
from other social sciences, conceptually, by its attention to both culture and biology
and their interaction on the timescales of evolution, history, and the individual
lifespan, and methodologically, by a tradition of ethnographic fieldwork conducted
among diverse populations. Anthropological study of children occupies a special
place in the discipline, as it engages with issues from the evolution of the life course
to how culture is acquired during the earliest years. A lapse in attention to children
and childhood by mainstream anthropology in recent decades has been balanced by
a current surge of interest in the place of children in society and appreciation of the
value of anthropological studies for understanding child well-being (Bluebond-
Langner and Korbin 2007; Lancy 2008). Unfortunately, major recent reviews of
threats to child welfare and how to ameliorate them (Grantham-McGregor et al.
2007; Engle et al. 2007; Walker et al. 2007, 2011) have largely overlooked
anthropological contributions – and particularly the importance of culture as
a determinant of both socioeconomic conditions and local definitions of well-
being. In this chapter, we discuss anthropological perspectives that advance
E.G.J. Stevenson (*)

Department of Anthropology, University College London, London, UK
C.M. Worthman
Laboratory for Comparative Human Biology, Department of Anthropology, Emory University,
Atlanta, GA, USA

486 E.G.J. Stevenson and C.M. Worthman
understanding of child well-being by engaging the places and possibilities that

various societies provide for children.
The chapter is structured as follows: First, we summarize how culture consti-
tutes a basic and unique feature of human childhood and child care and is
therefore a necessary concept for modeling child development and well-being.
Then, we describe models that anthropologists have used to explain variation in
child development and well-being. Next, we consider the ways these models add
to our understanding of how ongoing transitions in vital rates, education, nutrition
and disease, and politics, economics, and ecology are affecting child well-being
worldwide. Finally, we describe policy implications and suggest future research
directions. Our broad aims are to demonstrate the value of anthropological
approaches for understanding and promoting child well-being and to illustrate
the kinds of research needed to test hypotheses derived from anthropological
models.
18.2 Shared and Variable Features of Human Childhood
Underpinning the anthropological approach to child well-being is a set of

observations about children in relation to other species. One observation is
that humans are distinctive vis-à-vis their nearest living relatives, the chimpan-
zees and gorillas, in how long they remain dependent on caregivers. Whereas
other primates begin to locomote early and receive only milk from their mothers,
humans are unable to walk until they are nearly a year old and rely on adults
for provision of food until maturity (Pereira and Fairbanks 2002). Another basic
observation is that the circumstances of child-rearing among humans are
tremendously diverse, ranging across almost all the world’s terrestrial
ecosystems and including social contexts from small, mobile, and relatively
egalitarian foraging groups to dense urban neighborhoods characterized by great
inequality.
Together, these two features – prolonged dependence and environmental
variation – have important consequences for human development and well-
being. During the prolonged juvenile phase, both the nervous system and the
immune system – which are characterized by immense complexity and
mediate critical social and ecological relations – rely on or are sensitive to
environmental cues that are expectable features of experience. For example,
children acquire cultural concepts through exposure to the language-using
community in which they grow up (Ochs and Schieffelin 1986), and they acquire
immunocompetence via early exposures to pathogens and irritants (reviewed
in McDade 2005). Behavioral patterns, including diet, are often shared at the level of
the local group; and risks and opportunities for healthy development also
vary significantly at this level. Accounting for environmental variation therefore is
crucial for deriving more valid, generalizable models of child development and
well-being.
18 Child Well-Being: Anthropological Perspectives 487
Table 18.1 Four major dimensions of child well-being studied by anthropologists

Health Relationships
Nutrition and growth (Eveleth and Tanner Attachment/anxiety (Hrdy 2005; LeVine and
1990; Martorell et al. 2010) Norman 2001)
Food/water security (Dettwyler 1993; Hadley Social relations (Hinde 1987; Whiting and
and Wutich 2009; Stevenson et al. 2012) Edwards 1988)
Morbidity (Bentley et al. 1991) Sexual mores (Mead 1928; Herdt 1989)
Mortality (Hill and Hurtado 1996; Kaplan Freedom of choice and action (Lancy 2008;
et al. 1995) Panter-Brick 2002)
Stress/suffering Competence
Early stressors (Landauer and Whiting 1981; Knowledge/learning (Blurton Jones and Konner
Kuzawa 1998) 1976; Boyd and Richerson 1985; Richerson et al.
2010)
Biocultural mediators (Worthman et al. 2010) Psychomotor development (Chisholm 1983;
Adolph et al. 2010)
Subjective well-being (Izquierdo 2005; Play (Norbeck 1974; Schwartzman 1976; Bock
Godoy et al. 2009; Kohrt et al. 2011) and Johnson 2004)
18.2.1 Problems and Goals in the Anthropology of Well-Being
In anthropology, research relevant to child well-being has been carried out both by
cultural anthropologists, who have tended to focus on children’s linguistic, moral, and
psychological development, and by biological anthropologists, who have tended to
focus on mortality, physical growth and maturation, and stress. Although we cannot
hope to represent the whole range of topics that anthropologists have addressed in
relation to child well-being, Table 18.1 reflects the diversity of relevant concerns, under
the headings of health, relationships, competence, and stress or suffering.
Work by both cultural and biological anthropologists has acted as a check
against the assumption that Western standards of human development (including
developmental tempo and markers of competence) apply to all humanity (see Mead
1928; LeVine and White 1986; Henrich et al. 2010). Ethnography, the hallmark
method of anthropology, which combines interview and observation of naturalistic
behavior, often over long periods of time, can provide windows into child devel-
opment in cultural context and accommodates rich description of multiple dimen-
sions of well-being (LeVine 2007). Ethnography may expose unexpected
relationships between environments of child-rearing and outcomes in terms of
well-being. For example:
• Among the Yoruba of Nigeria, parents provide only very small amounts of meat
or fish to their children, for fear of spoiling their alafia, “a [concept of] well-
being that includes physical health, peace of mind, material prosperity, [and]
harmonious relationships” (Zeitlin 1996: 410).
• Among the Gusii of Kenya, minimal verbal interaction between parents and
children, and consistent withholding of praise, serves as part of a socialization
strategy that promotes obedience and responsibility, without any apparent harm
to children’s self-esteem (LeVine et al. 1994).
• Among the Matsigenka of the Peruvian Amazon, physical health has improved
over the past three decades, but the commonness of sorcery accusations
(a marker of social cohesion and trust) has increased (Izquierdo 2005).
One goal of anthropology is to explain such apparently paradoxical relationships
between environments and outcomes by taking into account the cultural context –
and especially local systems of meanings and expectations about what it is to be
a person and to lead a good life (LeVine and White 1986; D’Andrade 1992;
Shweder 1996; Markus and Kitayama 1998). This requires close attention to
indigenous concepts, which may often be difficult to translate.
A more ambitious and elusive goal of anthropology is to identify regularities in
well-being across cultures and through time. This enterprise, contrastingly, requires
broad definitions of well-being that apply to many cultures. For the purposes of this
effort, we may assume that well-being everywhere partially corresponds with phys-
ical health and that it is dependent on a set of basic capacities in the individual (e.g.,
adequate nutritional status) and on social supports (e.g., nurturing relationships).
These two complementary goals of anthropology are reflected in two, overlapping
families of models that we describe below – one aimed at explaining well-being in
cultural context, and the other at explaining variation in well-being across cultures. An
assumption common to both approaches is that while much variation in child well-
being may be determined by culture, other influences – such as differences in childcare
arrangements within the same cultural community and processes such as globalization
that affect many cultural groups – are also important. Integrating these multiple levels
of influence, and accounting for their compound effects on child well-being, consti-
tutes a major theoretical challenge. In the following sections, we examine anthropo-
logical models that seek to achieve this integration; we then look at how these models
may help us understand the effects of historical changes on child well-being.
18.3 Anthropological Models of Child Development and

Well-Being
It is well-established that in contemporary societies characterized by socioeco-

nomic stratification, poverty and low levels of parental education are among the
clearest predictors of deficits in children’s health and development (Grantham-
McGregor et al. 2007; Marmot et al. 2008). Anthropologists recognize that in
societies with alternative institutions and systems of subsistence, wealth and formal
schooling may matter less. As such, they have sought to devise theories of human
development that are applicable not only to contemporary industrial societies but
also across a broad spectrum, from hunter-gatherer bands through modern states.
These models fall into two classes: heuristic models to be applied within particular
cultures and predictive models to be applied across time or across cultures.1
1
The distinction between these orientations broadly corresponds to that between cultural psychol-
ogy and cross-cultural psychology (Shweder et al. 1998).
Table 18.2 Anthropological models of child development/well-being

Heuristic Key independent
models variables Dependent variables References
Ecocultural Everyday activities, Child well-being Weisner 1998; 2002
routines
Developmental Settings, customs, Child health and Super and Harkness 1986
niche caretaker psychology, development
endogenous factors
Cultural Evolutionary, Childcare arrangements LeVine et al. 1994
mediation economic-demographic,
and cultural factors
Predictive
models
Discordance Paleolithic material and Resource allocation Konner and Eaton 2010;
biosocial environments across the life course, Kuzawa and Thayer 2011
versus chronic disease
later environments
Developmental Early life experience, Later function, McDade 2005;
ecology maternal early life nutritional status Worthman 1999, 2009
experience, trade-offs in
resource allocation
Embodied Requirements for adult Parental investment Kaplan 1994;
capital competence Kaplan and Gurven 2006
Ecosystem Ecosystem services, Child well-being MEA 2005 (adapted)
dynamics human macroecology,
child’s microecology
Heuristic models propose a set of critical variables that affect child well-being
within a given ecological context and suggest frameworks for tracking causal
relationships among them. Predictive models support formulation of hypotheses
about improvement or deterioration of well-being resulting from postulated effects
of change in particular social or ecological variables. The term “predictive” does
not necessarily imply the validity of the predictions the models make about child
well-being but the logical coherence of the predictions on the basis of the models’
premises. A selection of both types of models and the key variables they address are
given in Table 18.2.
Evaluating the usefulness of each of these models requires data from multiple
cultures. Commonly, heuristic models have been developed through research
comparing child development and well-being in two cultural contexts: the
ecocultural model to help explain the way parents of disabled children in California,
versus parents of children without developmental disabilities, adapt to their chil-
dren’s needs (Weisner 1997, 2002); the developmental niche model by long-term
study of Kipsigis families in Kenya and American families in New England (Super
and Harkness 1986); and the cultural mediation model through comparative study
of Kenyan Gusii and white middle-class American infants (LeVine et al. 1994).
These three models unpack the logic of local socialization practices into widely
applicable categories; they therefore function as “middle-range” theories providing
concrete bases for investigating how pathways of interaction among specific cul-
tural factors shape trajectories of child development and well-being (Worthman
2010).2 In the next section, we briefly describe each of these heuristic models in
turn, focusing on the independent variables that they prioritize, and the outcomes
they seek to explain.
18.3.1 Heuristic Models of Child Development and Well-Being
18.3.1.1 The Ecocultural Model

The ecocultural model (Weisner 1997, 2002) specifies child well-being as an
explicit outcome, defined as “the ability to successfully, resiliently, and innova-
tively participate in the routines and activities deemed significant by a cultural
community” (Weisner 1998: 75). Child well-being in this formulation varies in
definition from culture to culture but in each case is the product of everyday
routines that are stable and predictable, display appropriate fit to the ecological
context, serve to balance competing interests among family and other community
members, and are meaningful to children and caregivers (Weisner 2002). Distinc-
tively, the ecocultural model was developed together with a semi-structured inter-
view protocol, the Ecocultural Family Interview, the transcripts of which can be
coded to produce a “well-being score” for families. Variation in the ability of
families in the United States to sustain daily routines that effectively coordinate
and meet the needs of family members has been investigated to understand the
effects of stress or policy interventions on child outcomes (Weisner et al. 2005;
Fuligni and Hardway 2006). Distinctively, the ecocultural model therefore can be
used for modeling variation in child well-being at the subcultural level and even at
the level of individual households.
18.3.1.2 The Developmental Niche

The developmental niche model was initially conceived to explain variation in
child development across cultures (Super and Harkness 1986). It was subsequently
expanded to research on child health (Harkness and Super 1994) and may also be
applied to well-being. In this model, the key independent variables are settings,
customs, caretaker psychology, and endogenous factors in the child (Super and
Harkness 1986). Settings comprise the physical and social circumstances of chil-
dren, being the backdrop and cast of players in the child’s world (which include
family poverty or wealth and the number of available caregivers); customs com-
prise behavior patterns for dealing with children that are not subject to conscious,
rational evaluation (e.g., ways of carrying a child or managing his sleep habits);
caretaker psychology comprises the beliefs and goals that inform parental strategies
for child-rearing (e.g., beliefs that infants are naturally fragile or resilient, naturally
2
For graphical representations of the ecocultural and developmental niche models, see Worthman
2010, Figs. 2 and 3.
naughty or nice); and endogenous factors in the child consist of congenital and
epigenetic characteristics that independently influence child development and also
influence caretakers as well as the settings in which children are placed (e.g., infant
temperament). The developmental niche model has stimulated a great deal of
research (Harkness 1992; Bronfenbrenner 1999; Harkness and Super 1996, 2005;
Greenfield et al. 2003) and has proven useful in understanding variation in inci-
dence of respiratory infections among the Kipsigis (Super et al. 1994), gendered
care and child nutrition among Hagahai of Papua New Guinea (DeCaro et al. 2010),
parental knowledge and child health among Tsimané of Bolivia (McDade et al.
2007), and markers of stress and cardiovascular regulation in middle-class urban
American children (DeCaro and Worthman 2008a, b).
18.3.1.3 The Cultural Mediation Model

The cultural mediation model acknowledges the importance of evolutionary design,
economic-demographic pressures, and cultural scripts as influences on the social
organization of childcare. The model also recognizes that each of these influences is
“underdetermining,” that is, that each on its own fails to explain childcare practices in
any community (LeVine et al. 1994: 20). In their longitudinal study of infant
development among the Gusii of Kenya, LeVine and colleagues observed that care
practices in the first years of life – in communities comprised of polygynous
households organized around the economic goals of smallholder farming – made
different use of universal human potentials than do Western populations. Employing
analogies from computing, LeVine and colleagues suggest that Gusii and American
approaches to childcare are each the product of organic hardware supplied by natural
selection, ecological firmware representing prevailing economic and demographic
conditions, and cultural software including values and beliefs about appropriate and
efficient parenting. While none of these “wares” determines the others, each ought
ideally to be balanced with the others to produce an “optimal parental investment
strategy” calibrated to prevailing conditions (LeVine et al. 1994: 17).
All three of these models are effective in explaining variation in well-being within
particular cultures. They expose culturally distinct logics that govern children’s
social position and welfare at specific places and times. But they are less suitable for
the other goal of an anthropology of well-being—that is, identifying regularities in
well-being across cultures and through time. Insights from human evolution and
developmental ecology provide potential for progress toward this goal.
18.3.2 Predictive Models of Child Development and Well-Being
18.3.2.1 The Discordance Model

For the majority of humanity’s history, the primary means of subsistence was
hunting and gathering; humans may therefore be adapted by natural selection to
the diets and social arrangements of our hunter-gatherer ancestors (Kingston 2007).
Skeletal analysis of ancient populations undergoing transition from foraging to
agrarian lifestyles has demonstrated deterioration in population health accompany-

ing the transition (Cohen and Armelagos 1984; Swedlund and Armelagos 1990;
Pinhasi and Stock 2011). These observations led to the hypothesis that
discordances between evolutionarily expected environments and recent environ-
ments of historical experience – including high population density, high-energy and
high-fat diets, and sedentary lifestyles – may be underlying causes for modern
epidemics of obesity, chronic disease, and mental illness (Burkitt 1973; Trevathan
et al. 2008; Konner and Eaton 2010). If diets and social arrangements congruent
with hunter-gatherer norms are optimal for child well-being, then we should expect
to see superior child well-being associated with hunter-gatherer biosocial traits such
as egalitarianism and dietary diversity. A recent proposal congruent with this model
is that humans are characterized by cooperative breeding, with dense networks of
kin sharing in childcare, and that shifts toward the nuclear family might cause
psychobehavioral pathology (Hrdy 2005, 2009; cf. Hill and Hurtado 2009).
18.3.2.2 The Developmental Ecology Model

Related to the discordance model, developmental ecology models focus on life
course trade-offs in developmental design (Worthman 1999; Kuzawa 2007). The
developmental ecology model posits evolved developmental sensitivities
specifically keyed to environmental conditions that, over human evolutionary
history, have provided reliable information about circumstances and constraints
that the developing child will face. Information derived from early experience
drives developmental pathways in functional systems as well as the regulation of
resource allocation among growth, maintenance, and reproduction (Gluckman
and Hanson 2006). In one case study in France, low birth weight was associated
with later propensity to lay down fat reserves, as if in anticipation of food shortages
in later life (the “thrifty phenotype” hypothesis) (Meas et al. 2008). Other relevant
parameters include immune development (key to maintenance and survival),
which relies on exposures from birth onward and is aided by buffering
from breastfeeding (McDade 2005); erosion of breastfeeding practices has been
linked to enduring changes in immune activity (McDade et al. 2001; Morass et al.
2008). Similarly, current explanations for increases in the prevalence of asthma
point to disruption of early exposures to pathogens and parasites on which devel-
opment of balanced immune function has evolved to rely (Altmann 2009;
Raison et al. 2010).
A leading edge of research in developmental ecology focuses on how experi-
ences in early childhood (in addition to maternal-fetal and infant conditions) may
play a role in shifting psychobehavioral development to adversity or advantage
(Worthman et al. 2010) and on how gene-environment interactions (Worthman
2009) as well as environmentally responsive phenotypic plasticity (Kuzawa and
Sweet 2009) affect child well-being. Ecologically driven psychobiological effects
that accumulate over development and across generations offer powerful insights
into the bases of health inequalities, as conditions of poverty, discrimination, or
privilege drive biological differences that form the grounds of health disparities
(Worthman and Kuzara 2005; Gravlee 2009). The power of evolutionary and
developmental ecological models to propose fruitful hypotheses explaining major

trends in human health has drawn widespread interest to these approaches.
18.3.2.3 Embodied Capital

Drawing on concepts from economics and evolutionary biology, Kaplan and
colleagues developed the model of embodied capital to explain variation in parental
investment in relation to environmental factors (Kaplan et al. 1995, 2000). Embod-
ied capital captures the sum of physical and psychobehavioral conditions and
capacities that determine an individual’s current and future survival and produc-
tivity (Kaplan et al. 2000; Kaplan and Gurven 2006). According to this model, the
intensity of parental investment per child will correspond to parents’ perceptions of
the embodied capital that their children need for current and future survival and
productivity, conditioned on the parents’ own resources and welfare. To the extent
that child well-being is determined by the intensity of parental investment, this
model offers some promise of predicting variation in child well-being. Where risks
to survivorship are high and parent resources are scarce, parents should emphasize
producing more children whose embodied capital just suffices for survival and
childbearing; where risks to survivorship are low and parental resources are plen-
tiful, parents should emphasize producing fewer children with higher embodied
capital, particularly where they perceive that their children’s success increases
directly with embodied capital (Kaplan 1994). Empirical analyses from the Western
societies for which data are most readily available, however, have demonstrated
complex relationships between parental resources (income or socioeconomic sta-
tus) and reproductive behavior, frequently with divergent relationships for men and
women and for different ethnic groups or social classes (Kaplan et al. 1995; Fieder
and Huber 2007).
18.3.2.4 The Ecosystem Dynamics Model

Ecological change, according to one approach in contemporary economics,
affects human well-being primarily through its impacts on the availability of
ecosystem services, including fresh water, fuel, and nutrient cycling, all of
which are ultimately dependent on planetary biodiversity (MEA 2005: vi; see
Kareiva et al. 2011). Adapting this model to take account of cultural context
permits more specific predictions about the effects of ecological change on child
well-being. For any given child, ecosystem services are crucially mediated by
the macroecology that includes the political-economic, demographic, and tech-
nological context of the society into which he is born, and the microecology
constituted by immediate surroundings, caretakers, and childcare customs.
These two cultural envelopes serve as conduits and filters for the supply of
vital ecosystem services to the child, influencing the quality of food and water
she consumes, the degree to which climate and disease ecology penetrate her
world, and also the meanings that are attached to the natural and man-made
environment in which she lives. Figure 18.1 illustrates these ideas, with
the developmental niche model of child development in cultural context
Ecosystem services Well-being
Health
Provisioning
nutrition
food development
Developmental niche
Nutrient cycling, soil formation, etc.
water experience
fuel
Freedom of choice and action

Settings Customs Security
personal
Supporting
Regulating safety resource
Agency
Child access
climate Endogenous
Characteristics
disease Basic material
Child’s microecology for good life
Care- shelter
Cultural takers livelihood
aesthetic Good social

spiritual Human macroecology relations
educational (culture, political economy, religion, trust
demography, technology) attachment
LIFE ON EARTH –BIODIVERSITY
Fig. 18.1 Model of child well-being in macroecological and microecological context
(in the center) flanked by ecosystem dynamics and human well-being (on the left
and right sides of the diagram).
The ecosystem dynamics model serves as an example of how anthropological
insights can enrich models from neighboring fields.
In the next section, we show how the models discussed above may be applied to
analysis of historical transitions in vital rates, education, nutrition and disease, and
politics, economics, and ecology, which we contend are among the greatest forces
affecting child well-being in the contemporary world.
18.4 Historical Transitions and Their Impacts on Child

Well-Being
The theoretical models that we have surveyed embrace the relevance to child well-
being of timescales from the evolutionary to the intergenerational and
ontogenetic. Because evolutionary processes move slowly, because cultural diver-
sity is difficult to reduce to common denominators, and because we now live in
a globalized world, attending to global patterns of socioecological change through
historical time can be the most effective way of identifying conditions that promote
or threaten child well-being. Among the historical transitions of the past century
that impinge on child well-being, five may be considered as particularly influential:
Table 18.3 Positive and negative influences of historical transitions on child well-being
Pro Con
Demography () child mortality () sibling contact
(+) parent to child ratio
Epidemiology () infectious disease (+) chronic disease
Nutrition () undernutrition (+) overnutrition, obesity
Education (+) literacy () socialization by near-peers
() local ecological knowledge
Politics/economics (+) codified law, individual rights (+) social inequality
Ecology (+) temperate climates at high latitudes (+) climatic unpredictability
() biodiversity
1. Demographic transition, including secular trends in decreasing fertility and

mortality
2. Epidemiological and nutritional transitions (a) from infectious diseases to
chronic diseases, and (b) from under- to overnutrition
3. The rise of mass schooling as a common feature of the life course
4. Political and economic transitions in which the state and the market have
acquired new influences over children and their development
5. Ecological transitions, including climate change and declining global biodiversity
In the case of each transition, there have been both gains and losses for child
well-being – and for some children, in some populations, more than others
(Table 18.3).
A full accounting of these transitions, which are tightly interconnected, and their
implications for children’s well-being, is impossible given the current state of knowl-
edge. What we aim to do here is to illustrate the possible pathways of influence
suggested by anthropological models and their potential to add to analysis.
18.4.1 Demographic Transition
The secular trend in declining birth and death rates over the past century (Notestein
1945; cf. Kirk 1996) has both direct and indirect consequences for child well-being.
Declines in rates of mortality by definition have increased chances of survival
beyond the first years of life – a sine qua non of well-being – but in many
populations, declines in fertility rates have radically altered the social ecology
within which children grow up. Smaller family sizes imply “more parents for
each child,” and therefore a potential increase in the intensity of parental caregiving
(Mead 1971; Richter 2004). Furthermore, with lower risks of mortality, parents can
plan for their children’s future with greater confidence of their surviving to adult-
hood (Johnson-Hanks 2008), signaling a shift in caregiver psychology (to use the
terms of the developmental niche model). But compared to a child born in 1900,
one born today is likely in many countries to have a smaller network of siblings,
aunts, uncles, and cousins to help out with childcare, resulting in an altered social
setting for childhood. The discordance model predicts that decreasing support from
extended kin should have adverse effects on child well-being, and this is borne out
in that smaller networks of care and attachment are associated with increased child
mortality in pre-demographic transition populations (Sear and Coall 2011;
Strassmann and Garrard 2011) and with compromised socioemotional adjustment
in post-demographic transition populations (van IJzendoorn et al. 1992; Sagi et al.
1995).
A further consequence of the demographic transition is that, although child
mortality has declined globally, disparities among populations and subpopulations
have stagnated or increased, such that infant mortality among African-Americans in
the United States is 2.4 times that of whites (MacDorman and Mathews 2011;
Krieger et al. 2008) and mortality before age 5 is 20 times higher in sub-Saharan
Africa than in North America and Europe (Maddison 2001; IGME 2011). Because
disparities in child mortality correspond closely to economic cleavages, many
observers have focused on economic determinants (e.g., Behm and Vallin 1982;
Palloni 1990; Kim et al. 2002). A growing body of anthropological research,
however, is demonstrating the cultural and political-economic dimensions of
child mortality (notably Scheper-Hughes 1993; see also Nations and Rebhun
1988; Einarsdóttir 2004; Lane 2008).
Among the few studies that have tracked demographic parameters over time and
also employed ethnographic methods, the Gusii Infant Study demonstrated how,
during a period of rapid mortality decline in the 1970s (a fall in under-five mortality
of almost 25% within a decade), mismatch between demographic trends and
cultural scripts for childcare (ecological firmware and cultural software in LeVine’s
terms) led to adverse child health outcomes (LeVine et al. 1994). With higher child
survivorship as a result of public health interventions (including cholera vacci-
nation campaigns and increasing use of latrines, which decreased vulnerability to
diarrheal pathogens) and with increasing population pressure diminishing family
ownership of land and cattle and hence per capita availability of food, the
culturally sanctioned reproductive strategy of conceiving approximately every
2 years and devoting great effort to protecting infants led to larger family sizes,
poorer-quality child feeding, and a rise in child malnutrition. These findings
provide compelling evidence that cultural as well as economic factors influence
child well-being, and that “parental practices that [are] adaptive or effective
under one set of historical conditions may not be so when conditions change”
(LeVine et al. 1994: 269).
18.4.1.1 Epidemiological Transition

While some infectious diseases that can threaten child survival (e.g., scarlet fever,
measles, smallpox) have registered dramatic declines over the past 50 years, during
the same period some chronic diseases (e.g., asthma and type II diabetes) have
registered large rises first among adults and increasingly among children (Omran
1971; Gribble and Preston 1993; Pinhas-Hamiel and Zeitler 2007). Both the
discordance and the developmental ecology models offer explanations for the rise
of chronic diseases. For example, poor uterine conditions (e.g., nutrition, stress)
lead to low birth weight and energy-sparing adjustments in the fetus that, under
mismatched postnatal conditions of overnutrition and sedentism, lead to obesity,
metabolic dysregulation, and diabetes (Victora et al. 2008). Similarly, increased
rates of disordered immune regulation, such as asthma, allergies, or autoimmunity,
may be attributable to changing ecologies of early immune development as public
health and sanitation practices have dramatically altered patterns of exposure to
parasites and pathogens (Bach 2005; Duse et al. 2007; Garn and Renz 2007;
Jackson et al. 2009).
The transition from infectious to chronic diseases as the primary health burden
for children has not been universal, however. Among children in Africa and Asia,
respiratory infections, diarrheal diseases, and malaria together remain responsible
for most deaths at ages 1–4 (Morris et al. 2003; Lopez et al. 2006; cf. Heuveline
et al. 2002). Mortality from infectious diseases may exert strong effects on the
demographic structure of populations, changing the social settings of development.
HIV/AIDS, which increases mortality at peak productive and reproductive ages,
has led – especially in Southern Africa – to a rise in orphanhood and child-headed
households, eroding networks of support available to children (Ghosh and Kalipeni
2004). The persistence of ancient infectious diseases and the emergence of new
infections such as HIV/AIDS also contribute to child malnutrition, while epidemics
of chronic disease are partly driven by overnutrition.
18.4.1.2 Nutrition Transition

Measures of child growth status are sensitive markers of environmental quality,
reflecting the extent to which genetic growth potential is realized given children’s
diets and level of disease burden (Eveleth and Tanner 1990). Growth measures can
serve both as markers of current circumstances and as bellwethers of future well-
being, because nutritional status in early life is linked through a multitude of
pathways to later-life health. Even mild to moderate stunting is associated with
higher rates of child illness and death, cognitive impairment, and reduced school
performance (Black et al. 2008; Victora et al. 2008), while childhood overweight
and obesity predispose to diabetes, cardiovascular disease, and cancer (Wang and
Lobstein 2006). Population changes in nutritional status therefore have important
implications for child well-being.
The nutrition transition is commonly understood to refer to a shift from under-
nutrition to overnutrition, but in fact epidemic under- and overnutrition now coexist
as a double burden in many developing countries (Popkin 1994; Caballero and
Popkin 2002). Prevalence of overweight and obesity has risen rapidly among
children and adults in rich and poor countries alike over the past decades, with
the highest levels being among the low-income segments of wealthy countries, and
females being at somewhat higher risk than males (Drewnowski and Specter 2004;
Due et al. 2009; Freedman 2011). Evolutionary nutrition points to taste preferences
for sweet and fat related to their limited availability in ancient diets, and the
discordance model predicts high consumption of foods rich in sugar and fat when
they are available (Armelagos 2010; Konner and Eaton 2010). In industrial food
systems, sugar and fats have replaced whole grains as a source of cheap calories
(Popkin and Nielsen 2003), and this partly explains the high prevalence of
overnutrition among the poor. Contemporary changes in the settings and customs
of childhood are also important. Declines in physical activity among the urban poor,
for example, are partly a product of built environments that lack parks and other
facilities for physical recreation (Gordon-Larsen and Popkin 2006; Currie 2011),
and partly due to widespread cultural shifts, such as school attendance and the
spread of television, that promote sedentism and erode child sleep budgets
(Brownson 2005; Gradisar et al. 2011; Matricciani et al. 2011).
18.4.2 Education Transition
The worldwide expansion of schooling – doubling over the past 30 years alone
(Gakidou et al. 2010) – has affected child well-being through multiple channels
including increases in literacy. From the perspective of anthropology, however,
education, in the sense of embodied capital and social learning, is “built in” to the
contexts of rearing, whether or not it involves formal instruction (Fortes 1938;
Greenfield 2009). In cultures without schools – indeed for all human history until
the development of complex states – childhood learning occurred mainly in the
context of mixed-age play groups (Lancy 1996; Cole 2005) and apprenticeship-type
arrangements between adults and children (Lave and Wenger 1991; Rogoff et al.
1995; Gaskins and Paradise 2010). Schooling, by contrast, is characterized by
didactic instruction, a shift in the frame of reference to district, national, and global
locales, and a relatively standardized curriculum based on European templates
(Meyer et al. 1992). These features permit more efficient transfer of standardized
skills such as literacy to large cohorts. But they also have downsides for psycho-
logical well-being, including an atmosphere of intense competition that can induce
psychological distress (Lock 1986), and an emphasis on performance by the
individual in isolation as opposed to the interpersonal competences inculcated by
other systems of socialization (Weisner 1998).
Correlations among schooling, women’s autonomy, and economic growth are
widely noted (Hobcraft 2000; Hannum and Buchmann 2003) and have provided
additional momentum for efforts to widen access to formal education (Schultz
2002; Rose 2003). From an anthropological perspective, however, the associations
among schooling, women’s empowerment, and economic change are contingent on
cultural supports. When these supports are absent, schooling may not be associated
with women’s empowerment or increased economic opportunities. In North India,
for example, prevailing gender and caste roles means that schooling for high-caste
women is associated with greater rather than lesser seclusion, in conformity with
traditional marriage customs (Jeffery and Jeffery 1997). And in all contexts, for
men as well as women, success in converting school-acquired skills into liveli-

hoods – finding jobs – depends to a great extent on the prevailing economic
environment. When economic conditions are unfavorable, graduates may either
be unable to find employment or opt to remain unemployed rather than taking on
jobs below their station (Jeffrey et al. 2008; Mains 2012). Variable quality of
schooling within and between countries also affects the extent to which schooling
can improve lifetime opportunities, with children from poorer households often
encountering poorer learning environments at school (Kozol 2005; Woessmann and
Peterson 2007). Improvements in child well-being cannot therefore be seen as
automatic outcomes of formal education but are to a large extent contingent on
the fit between home community and school on the one hand and school and society
on the other.
18.4.3 Political and Economic Transitions
The growing importance of schools in the lives of children is one component of

a process of shifting of responsibilities for children from family units to the state
and the market, including responsibility for health care (e.g., vaccinations), sanita-
tion and water, childcare, and recreation (e.g., playgrounds, media). This process
has been markedly uneven, however, and especially in the case of populations
newly incorporated into states, the extension of services such as schooling and
medical care has often been blocked by cultural barriers and discrimination.
Ethnographically documented examples of populations neglected or abused by
the states in which they live include the !Kung San of Namibia (Marshall 1980;
Wilmsen 1989), the Gwembe Tonga of Zambia (Colson 1971) and the peoples of
Venezuela’s Orinoco Delta (Briggs 2004; see also, generally, Bodley 2008). The
tendency to bypass minorities and the poor on equal shares in progress constitutes
a strong justification for tracking well-being at the level of subpopulations as well
as at the level of states or individuals. It also underscores the value of an ecological
approach, since the impacts on children of ethnic and racial discrimination are
likely to operate through the developmental niche they encounter (Harris 2006;
Krieger 2005). Studies of child development under conditions of economic inequal-
ity demonstrate insults inflicted both through material poverty and through psycho-
social channels including heightened perceptions of social inferiority and upward
comparison (Adler and Rehkopf 2008; Sapolsky 2005; Kuzawa and Sweet 2009).
Economic inequalities are especially visible in cities, which now accommodate
more than half of the world’s population (UN-HABITAT 2006; Davis 2006).
A new generation of anthropological research is now beginning to measure the
impacts of economic and political change on human well-being through panel
studies. The Tsimané Amazonian Panel Study, for example, was designed to assess
the impact of increasing market integration on the well-being of the Tsimané of the
Bolivian Amazon (Leonard and Godoy 2008). Annual surveys between 2006 and
2009 have shown improvements in nutritional status and declines in reported anger
but increases in the frequency of reported illness episodes (Godoy et al. 2009; see
also Reyes-Garcia et al. 2010). Although these results concern the well-being of
adults, they demonstrate that amelioration in one dimension of well-being does not
necessarily imply equivalent change in another. Because levels of household wealth
changed little during the period of study, it is not possible to determine the degree to
which the observed changes in well-being were due to market integration as
opposed to other factors. Further studies may allow researchers to “move beyond
a snapshot” (Godoy et al. 2009) to unravel the forces affecting child well-being
over time.
18.4.4 Ecological Transition
The most momentous historical transition of our time is an ecological transition, the
course of which can be measured in declining biodiversity due to the direct action
of humans in the environment (e.g., deforestation and conversion of biomes for
monocrop agriculture) and in rising average global temperatures driven by expo-
nentially increasing concentrations of greenhouse gases in the atmosphere (IPCC
2007; UNEP 2012). Although these processes are global, the effects on human
well-being to date can only meaningfully be assessed on the level of communities.
In Mongolia, for example, where average temperatures have risen by 0.37 C per
decade since 1950 (among the highest for any country on record), a series of dzud
events – extremely dry summers followed by extremely cold winters – has devas-
tated forage and livestock holdings for herders (Girvetz et al. 2012; Murphy 2011).
If these trends continue, Mongolian youth will be hard pressed to succeed in
adulthood by means of the traditional livelihood strategy of herding. Such shifts
in livelihood can bring about a cascade of changes in well-being, as they disrupt the
routines and activities that are significant to cultural communities. For families
facing unpredictable returns from traditional livelihoods, investing in formal
schooling for children – an intervention to alter the microecology of children’s
development – is often an attractive option. But if, in the macroecological context,
schooling cannot be translated into remunerative employment, and if time invested
in schooling takes away from learning the local social and ecological landscape, as
some studies suggest (Galaty 1989; Benz et al. 2000; Zent 2001; Sternberg et al.
2001), then schooling may further increase families’ vulnerability to ecological
change. This may be especially true where procurement of food, water, and fuel
cannot be secured through market institutions but requires community members to
forage for themselves or engage with complex local systems of regulation (see, e.g.,
Lansing and Fox 2011; Wutich 2011).
To summarize, the five historical transitions we have surveyed probably have
large implications for child well-being. Anthropological models can help to parse
out the channels through which macro-environmental forces impact on the child’s
microenvironment. Few studies have yet been conducted outside of Europe and
North America that assess child well-being in culturally relevant ways and follow
the well-being of individual families and children over time in relation to historical
changes. Existing models and data relevant to the capacities underlying well-
being – such as health, nutrition, and social support – can, however, be leveraged
to inform policy.
18.5 Policy Implications and Research Directions
18.5.1 Policy Implications/Recommendations
In discussing the policy implications of anthropological approaches to child well-

being, we focus on three possible points of intervention: in early childhood, at
school age, and at the youth-adult transition.
Early interventions to improve child nutrition and environments of care may
be particularly effective in promoting well-being. The lifetime impacts of
improved early nutrition have been clearly demonstrated by the INCAP program
in Guatemala, which showed that protein and energy supplements provided to
age 2 were linked to improvements in later-life physical status and school
performance and, for men, higher wages in adulthood (Martorell 1995; Martorell
et al. 2010). Consistent with anthropological models suggesting that shared care
should benefit children, programs that provide moral and practical supports to
families expecting or caring for children have been shown in randomized con-
trolled trials to reduce neonatal deaths (Sibley et al. 2009) and to improve child
health and psychomotor function in the first years of life (Olds et al. 2007; Sweet
and Applebaum 2004; see also Super et al. 1990). Peer-mentoring programs
involving mothers in the community whose children are flourishing may offer
a promising, sustainable approach for low-resource settings (Cooper et al. 2002;
Rotheram-Borus et al. 2011).
From early childhood onward, an expanded vision of education is needed to
enhance resilience, life satisfaction, and subsistence options in a broader range of
environments. Building on the observation that much learning in preindustrial
cultures happens in the context of mixed-age playgroups, more space could be
made in schools or other public places for youth to educate each other, including
with the aid of computer technologies (Mitra 2005; Smith et al. 2009; Hirji et al.
2010; Gray 2011). Complementary approaches include ecological education pro-
grams that teach literacy and other skills at the same time as engaging children with
the natural environments in which they live (Orr 1992) and programs that target the
“hearts” as well as the minds of young people by promoting emotional and social
skills (Napoli et al. 2005; Durlak et al. 2011).
As described above, youth who transition to adulthood in times of rapid social or
ecological change may be particularly prone to derailment, as they find that the
futures for which they have been prepared fail to materialize (Lloyd 2005;
Worthman 2011). Social support programs for this demographic group are partic-
ularly urgent, but few models are available. The potential of peer-mentoring and
skill-development programs to buffer against unemployment and deprivation con-

stitutes an important area for future research.
Attending to youth in transition to adulthood also draws attention to the interface
between generations, the connections between micro- and macro-contexts in
children’s development, and the need for structural changes to improve the
macro-environment. Direct interventions – such as nutritional supplementation
programs, education reforms, and social supports – are the vehicles for immediate
change, and individual parents, households, and children are the logical targets of
these programs. But structural approaches that may relieve burdens on caregivers,
for example, by reducing economic inequality, are also urgently needed.
18.5.2 Research Directions
Anthropological models provide a rich source of hypotheses regarding the processes

that promote child well-being, but evaluating the usefulness of these models requires
comparable data from multiple cultures. To develop more effective interventions to
promote child well-being worldwide, we need studies in a wider range of populations,
employing appropriate research methods. Using mixed methods (Bernard 2006;
Axinn and Pearce 2006; Harkness et al. 2006), for example ethnography together
with surveys and biomarkers, would allow triangulation among different dimensions
of well-being. This is crucial because well-being includes qualitative states that
inevitably vary from culture to culture: the same tool will not work everywhere.
What are needed are standard protocols for “working down” from qualitative data
that accommodate rich descriptions of locally relevant dimensions of well-being, to
quantitative data that permit formal hypothesis tests. One way of doing this is by
quantitative coding of qualitative texts, as in the Ecocultural Family Interview
(Weisner 2002). Modifications to standard research designs are also needed to permit
stronger inferences about the impacts of ecological and social factors on child well-
being. Panel designs, for example, offer promise for tracking the effects of cultural
and ecological changes on individual families and children while controlling for
some common confounds (Gravlee et al. 2009). The Tsimané Amazonian Panel
Study constitutes one example of this approach; more such studies are needed.
Because of the multidimensional nature of well-being, and the fact that one
dimension can improve while another deteriorates, we must admit that at present we
do not know what net effects global socioecological transitions are having on
human well-being. This should not hold us back from addressing stark inequities
in health and opportunities for development that are closely related to well-being.
But it does alert us to the fact that “health is not enough” (Izquierdo 2005). To move
beyond a narrow focus on health, researchers will need to combine methodological
rigor with cultural theory and broad geographical/demographic scope. This effort
will require collaboration between anthropologists and colleagues in epidemiology,
psychology, public policy, and allied fields. In the process, scientists and practi-
tioners will gain opportunities to refine their working models of child well-being
and expand the proportion of humanity to which they are relevant.
Acknowledgments EGJS was supported during preparation of this chapter in part by National
Institutes of Health / Fogarty International Center grant R24 TW008825-01. We extend thanks to
Neil Endicott, Jill Korbin, Kenny Maes, and Kay Gilliland Stevenson for comments on an earlier
draft.
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Social Psychology and Child Well-Being
19
Ferran Casas, Mònica González, and Dolors Navarro
19.1 Introduction
Social psychology has been defined as the scientific discipline that focuses on
researching interactions, relationships, and interinfluences between and among
human beings (Munné 1986, 1989, 1995). Although its historical foundations
come mainly from psychology and sociology, it has also been nurtured by biology,
anthropology, history, geography, and other human sciences (Munné 1986).
Many social psychologists have published on topics related to child well-being
and much research has been done on child well-being from a psychosocial per-
spective. However, we have been unable to identify a single Handbook on Social
Psychology with a whole chapter devoted explicitly to child well-being. A few
handbooks make indirect references to child well-being when analyzing diverse
social problems. Paradoxically, children’s, adolescents’, and young people’s prob-
lems are a relatively frequent topic in applied social psychology and community
psychology handbooks. A provisory first impression might be that for social
psychology child well-being is more a topic or domain related to developing social
programs and social interventions in the context of social policies than a topic for
theoretical reflection. Even so, there are some notable exceptions, particularly
within European social psychology, that we highlight in this chapter.
In contrast to what we can find in basic social psychology manuals, there are an
important number of scientific articles and book chapters where (a) social psychol-
ogists have published on child well-being and (b) authors who have not defined
themselves as social psychologists have written about children’s and adolescents’
well-being from a psychosocial perspective (e.g., the impressive four-volume
F. Casas (*) • M. González • D. Navarro

Faculty of Education and Psychology, Research Institute on Quality of Life, University of Girona,
Girona, Spain

514 F. Casas et al.
handbook Course on Childhood, published by the Open University in 2003, partic-

ularly volume 1, by Woodhead and Montgomery (2003)). Publications on the topic
are found mainly in books or journals on applied social psychology or psychosocial
intervention, including community social psychology, with some also found in
interdisciplinary journals or in very specialized books and journals on family,
school, social policies, child protection systems, child abuse and neglect, risk and
resilience in childhood, risky behaviors, media, and adolescence.
The aim of this chapter is not to clarify the core contributions or boundaries of
social psychology but to analyze some of the psychosocial contributions (most, but
not all, made by social psychologists) that seem to have been relevant to the study
of children’s and adolescents’ well-being.
As is the case with most human and social sciences, the majority of social
psychologists’ contributions to child well-being research have historically been
from a negative perspective. Only in the last two decades have publications begun
to appear that deal with the subject from a positive perspective, with areas such as
children’s participation and the promotion of children’s well-being and quality of
life receiving attention from the international scientific community of social psy-
chologists. Therefore, childhood has not frequently been a major focus for main-
stream social psychology, despite a large number of social psychologists showing
a great interest in this area and many of them referring to social psychology in their
research on it. In fact, many publications in different areas of interest of social
psychology make direct reference to children and adolescents.
One of the internationally most quoted sentences in social psychology is prob-
ably “If men define situations as real, they are real in their consequences.” This
sentence, known as “the Thomas Theorem,” was formulated by Thomas and
Thomas (1928, pp. 571–572) in a book entitled The Child in America: Behavior
Problems and Programs. It was an important contribution to the idea that children
(and child well-being) are seen as if adults’ perceptions are children’s reality.
However, from a historical perspective, it would seem that the Thomas Theorem
has been awarded much more relevance in other fields than in childhood studies.
In this chapter we first introduce a brief review of the general literature in social
psychology in order to identify how often handbooks and well-known journals have
published papers related to child well-being. We then summarize some contribu-
tions from the so-called traditional fields of applied social psychology: social
psychology of education, of family, of law, of health, of leisure and sports, of
social problems, of interpersonal relations, of communication and media, and of the
environment. Following this, we mention a few more specific fields of research that
have made what we consider to be important contributions to child well-being over
the past two decades. Another section is devoted to some relevant theoretical
contributions of social psychology to the understanding of child well-being. Then
follows a section devoted to some of the psychometric scales frequently used to
assess child well-being in psychosocial research. And finally, in the Discussion
section we present some personal reflections regarding the present and future of
social psychology in relation to child well-being.
19 Social Psychology and Child Well-Being 515
19.2 Social Psychology and Child Well-being: A Historical

Review of the Scientific Literature
19.2.1 A Review of General Psychosocial Scientific Literature
19.2.1.1 Social Psychology Handbooks

In only a few classic social psychology handbooks do we find some indirect
references to child well-being, usually referring to social problems. For example,
in Baron and Byrne (1977), a large section of the final chapter on “social psychol-
ogy in action” is dedicated to analyzing why adolescents smoke and how to reduce
the number of young smokers.
J.M. Salazar, a professor at the University of Caracas who taught for many years
at universities in the US, was a historical point of reference for Spanish and Latin
American social psychology due to his publications in the Spanish language. In his
classical manual (Salazar et al. 1979), the last chapter is devoted to applied social
psychology, and it highlights the social psychology of education as a field for
improving student and teacher well-being.
19.2.1.2 Community Psychology

Some of the classic handbooks in community psychology have devoted space to
community preventive action aimed at children. Zax and Specter’s handbook
(1974), for example, had three chapters on child-related topics: one on programs
for toddlers and preschool children, one on primary prevention at schools, and one
on secondary prevention at schools. The very well-known handbook edited by
Rappaport and Seidman (2000) has a chapter by Jane Knotzer on helping troubled
children and families.
The classical Spanish community psychology handbook by Martı́n et al. (1988)
includes a chapter by Lopez Cabañas and Gallego on social maladjustment among
children and young people. The most recent community intervention manual by
Sánchez Vidal and Musitu (1996) has a short chapter by the Colombians Castrillon
and Velasco with the fascinating title “The child as an agent for change in the
family, school and community.” The community psychology handbook coordi-
nated by Martı́n (1998) includes three chapters on children’s issues: specialized
foster care, primary prevention in the context of education, and the relationship
between leisure and social exclusion.
Some more recent books on community psychology by Latin American authors
have addressed issues relating to well-being in adolescence, including a chapter on
the transition between school and work by Sarriera (2004). Dimenstein (2008) has
a chapter on intervention with babies and their working mothers in maternity, and
another on risky behaviors among adolescents.
19.2.1.3 Applied Social Psychology and Psychosocial Intervention

The number of applied social psychology handbooks has increased over the last two
decades. Some of these have gone by the name Handbook on Psychosocial
516 F. Casas et al.
Intervention and many have chapters devoted to child well-being; however, most
also adopt a negative perspective when referring to children or adolescents.
The classical Spanish book by Barriga et al. (1987) devotes a chapter to
psychosocial intervention at school. The book by Musitu et al. (1993) includes
a whole section (4 chapters) on psychosocial intervention at school. In Alvaro et al.
(1996) there is also a chapter devoted to the social psychology of education and
another devoted to the social psychology of leisure and free time.
In San Juan (1996), there is a chapter by Herce and Torres on child abuse. In
Blanco and Rodrı́guez Marı́n (2007), there is a chapter by the Colombian
Madariaga on “Psychosocial intervention to promote human development among
children living in conditions of poverty,” and another very interesting chapter by
Fernández del Valle and Bravo on “Program evaluation of residential care in the
child protection system” from a psychosocial perspective.
19.2.1.4 Other Books from a Psychosocial Perspective

Sherif is a very well-known social psychologist because of his research on
intergroup relationships among children, particularly his famous experiment on
children’s competition and cooperation (Sherif et al. 1961). Problems of youth was
an extremely interesting and pioneering book edited by Sherif and Sherif (1965).
The first chapter of the book, by the same authors, is devoted to problems of
transition during adolescence, and they point out not only the importance of family,
but also the importance of peer group culture, and how adult perceptions and
stereotypes raise biases in our understanding of children and adolescents.
We should also mention the contribution of a Czech social psychologist, Kovaric
(1992), with a national report for the European project “Childhood as a social
phenomenon,” related to the birth of the so-called Vienna Sociology of Childhood
School.
Another classical book worth mentioning is Psychology and social problems by
Gale and Chapman (1984). This book has several chapters devoted to dealing with
different social problems such as problems of childhood in general, young
offenders, academic failure, and mentally handicapped children. The book
Psychology and social care by Messer and Jones (1999) devoted a whole section
(7 chapters) to working with children and young people. The last chapter of the
section, by the Norwegian Leo B. Handry, is devoted to “Adolescents and society”
and adopts a more positive approach than most of the papers in the other classic
handbooks mentioned above.
It is also worth mentioning the number of publications on child abuse and
neglect that take an ecosystemic perspective following Brofenbrenner’s theoretical
postulates (1977, 1979). This is the case with Belsky (1980, 1993), Garbarino
(1977a, b, 1980, 1990, 1991; Garbarino et al. 1977, 1980, 1986, 1992); Garbarino
and Kostelny 1991, 1992; Garbarino and Sherman 1980; Gracia and Musitu (1993),
and De Paúl and Arruabarrena (1996, 2000). In Latin America, some authors have
published books on the well-being of children and adolescence from an
ecosystemic perspective, such as Koller (2004). There are also relevant publications
on the sociohistorical perspective, such as that by Ozella (2003). We can also find
Table 19.1 Number of articles published in reviewed journals 2002–2012

Articles on childhood
Journal Total articles and adolescence %
Revista de Psicologı́a Social 258 23 8.9
Revista de Psicologı́a Social Aplicada 106 8 7.5
Intervención Psicosocial 134 19 14.17
British Journal of Social Psychology 423 9 2.1
European Journal of Social Psychology 810 8 0.98
European Review of Social Psychology 101 0 0
Journal of Experimental Social Psychology 1.439 8 0.55
Social Psychology Quarterly 188 11 5.8
Journal of Social Psychology 484 25 5.2
Asian Journal of Social Psychology 216 17 7.9
Total 4.159 128 3.07
some other publications with more eclectic perspectives, including Pilotti (1994) in
Chile, Rizzini (2002), Biasoli-Alves and Fischmann (2001), and Contini et al.
(2002) in Brazil.
Finally, the book Stories of Childhood. Shifting Agendas of Child Concern
(Rogers and Rogers 1992) is one of the first books to analyze children’s knowledge
from a psychosocial critical perspective. This book values qualitative research that
analyzes children’s discourses to better understand the history of childhood. Subse-
quently, publications by Burman (2008a, b) also have had an outstanding impact in
European debates, presenting a critical deconstruction of developmental psychology.
19.2.1.5 Journals on Social Psychology and Psychosocial Intervention

A review was conducted of articles directly or indirectly related to child well-being
(positive or negative) published in leading European and international social
psychology journals (in English and Spanish) over the past 10 years (2002–2012).
As shown in Table 19.1, the number of articles published on the topics of childhood
and adolescence in the different social psychology journals is very low and the
picture is very similar to that of handbooks. We must also bear in mind that most of
these articles deal with negative issues related to children and adolescents, such as
psychopathological problems or alcohol and drug consumption.
The data in Table 19.1 show that in the scientific literature most representative of
the psychosocial discipline, research into children and adolescents, and more
specifically their well-being, is not usually a prominent or common theme.
19.2.2 Review of the More Traditional Fields in the Psychosocial

Scientific Literature
The socialization of children has been a traditional field in which social psychol-
ogists from any theoretical approach (i.e., behavioral, psychoanalytic, humanistic,
518 F. Casas et al.
cognitive, constructionist, and so on) have contributed theories and research

(Torregrosa and Fernández Villanueva 1983 conducted a review up to 1983).
Nowadays, this huge field has been disaggregated into several smaller fields such
as the social psychology of education and the social psychology of the family.
Many other fields of even more focused research also exist in relation to negative or
positive child well-being, including studies on the stigmatization of groups of
children, particularly those in care (Coleman 1986; Colton et al. 1997a, b); legal
psychology, particularly in relation to children as witnesses in judicial proceedings
(Garbarino et al. 1989); and media psychology, particularly in relation to new
information and communication technologies (NICTs). In this section, we give
a few more examples of authors who have contributed to some of these specific
fields.
19.2.2.1 The Social Psychology of Education

A significant number of social psychologists interested in child well-being have
focused their research on the context of school. Here we can highlight North
American authors such as Feldman (2011), who studied the factors that underlie
and promote academic success among college students, and Huebner and his
colleagues, who have dedicated a large part of their research to evaluating topics
such as the relationship between life satisfaction and school results, including
school satisfaction and subjective well-being (Huebner and McCullough 2000;
Park and Huebner 2005; Huebner et al. 2009), the role of positive emotions
in predicting school functioning (Lewis et al. 2009), student engagement in
adolescents (Reschly et al. 2008; Lewis et al. 2010), and relative levels of hope
and their relationship with academic indicators among adolescents (Gilman and
Dooley 2006).
Diaz-Aguado (1986) and Ovejero (1986) published what were probably the first
two Spanish manuals on the social psychology of education. The latter is an
example review of studies of student motivation in relation to teachers’ expecta-
tions (i.e., self-fulfilment theories).
Another topic often addressed in psychosocial research is violence at school and
its implications for student integration and adaptation and a harmonious school life.
This type of applied research has contributed markedly to the development of
intervention strategies for improving harmonious coexistence, preventing violence
and developing tolerance at schools. Articles addressing this topic are Buelga et al.
(2012), Cava (2011), and Cava et al. (2010). Other similar studies concern social
dynamics in the classroom, including the prevention of children rejecting school
and bullying. These studies include Garcı́a Bacete et al. (2010), Forest and Garcı́a
Bacete (2006) and Garcia Bacete (2003). Finally, some studies, such as those
conducted by Diaz-Aguado (1986, 2006, 2007), focus directly on improving
school life.
19.2.2.2 The Social Psychology of the Family

Another specialized field where we find numerous studies on child well-being is
that of family studies and parent-child relationships (Musitu and Allatt 1994;
Gracia and Musitu 2000; Wagner 2002). In Milardo and Duck’s book on
family relationships (2000), the authors state that the social psychology of family
relations is concerned largely with the initiation, development, and deterioration
of close relationships. The nature of these relationships may take many forms
but typically involves individuals who view themselves as a unit with a long-
term commitment to continue their relationship. What kinds of events and
processes influence the choice of a long-term partner? Social psychologists have
long sought an answer to this question and at times have provided contradictory
answers.
Socialization of the family, styles of upbringing, and parent-child relationships
are themes that are frequently investigated from the psychosocial perspective and
have often been subject to an applied approach. Interesting examples of this are the
studies by the Mexicans Flores (2006) and Rivera and Andrade (2006), the latter
very much oriented toward studying the relationship between parenting practices,
adolescent risk behaviors, and conduct problems in childhood.
Other topics addressed by the social psychology of the family are the role of
perceived support from the father, mother, and siblings in adolescent behavioral
adjustment, and the relationship between the degree of communication, cohesion,
and affection in the family and the child’s psychosocial adjustment (Lila et al. 2012;
Buist et al. 2004). Some authors have focused on sibling relationships and have
conducted research with children and young people on the ways in which siblings
enter into processes of identity and identification in different kinds of families
(Lucey 2006, 2010, 2012).
Finally, but importantly, there is little research focused on analyzing the rela-
tionship between children’s life satisfaction and their own parents’ life satisfaction.
Casas et al. (2012c) reported that most scores for the different life satisfaction
domains were higher among adolescents than among their parents. However, the
authors warn that it is not possible to assume a general positivity bias, as higher
satisfaction is not found for all items. With Structural Equation Modelling, it is
shown that models using the Personal Well-being Index (PWI) and Brief
Multidimensional Students’ Life Satisfaction Scale (BMSLSS) fit with restricted
loadings, therefore suggesting that it is possible to compare correlations between
parents and their children. However, although significant, they are also very low.
The authors conclude that correlations between parents’ and their children’s overall
well-being are not high enough to provide evidence of a simple genetic effect. The
fact that correlations are no lower for domain items than for single overall items of
life satisfaction seems to indicate a detectable influence in shared environment
rather than genetics.
19.2.2.3 Legal Social Psychology

A significant part of legal social psychology (known by other names by some
authors: e.g., judicial psychology, law psychology, rights psychology) is devoted
to juvenile delinquency, a field of intervention not usually related to child well-
being. However, there is also much psychosocial research devoted to violence
against children and to child care in the child protection legal systems.
520 F. Casas et al.
In recent decades, thanks to international dynamics pushed by the UN Convention

on the Rights of the Child, a considerable and increasing amount of research has been
devoted to children’s rights from the psychosocial perspective. It is doubtful that most
of this research fits within the perspective of the applied field of legal social
psychology, as children’s rights do not refer only to legal aspects (or to psychosocial
dynamics related to legal aspects). Our brief review below focuses on three fields of
research: (a) child abuse and neglect and violence against children; (b) legal child
protection systems; and (c) children’s rights; however, children’s rights related to
their social participation are reviewed in another section of this chapter.
Child abuse and neglect and violence against children Many social psycholo-
gists perform research and publish on child abuse and neglect and violence against
children, in the family and in society. As we have already pointed out, some, like
Belsky and Garbarino, have built their conceptual position on the basis of the
ecosystemic perspective and the social ecology of child and adolescent develop-
ment. Garbarino, for example, has published on a wide range of violence-related
issues: war, child abuse, childhood aggression, and juvenile delinquency. In 1991,
he undertook missions for UNICEF to assess the impact of the Gulf War on children
in Kuwait and Iraq, and he has served as a consultant on programs for Vietnamese,
Bosnian, and Croatian children. He has also served as an expert witness in criminal
and civil cases involving issues of trauma, violence, and children. In all of
these cases he has been concerned with how developmental processes are shaped
by the human ecology in which they occur, and he takes particular interest in
spirituality and identity in this process (Garbarino 1977a, b, 1980, 1990, 1991,
1995, 1996, 1999; Garbarino and Bedard 2001; Garbarino and DeLara 2002;
Garbarino and Kostelny 1991, 1992; Garbarino and Sherman 1980; Garbarino
et al. 1977, 1980, 1986).
In recent years an increasing number of authors have reanalyzed child abuse and
neglect phenomena from critical perspectives (Rogers and Rogers 1989). Some
other authors have researched why children and adolescents become violent and, in
particular, social adjustment during adolescence. This is the case with Emler (Emler
and Dickinson 2005; Emler and St. James 2004; Emler and Reicher 2005), who has
contributed much research on moral development during adolescence in relation to
violent, antisocial, and offender behavior.
Violence against children in the family, including child neglect, is a major topic
of psychosocial research in many countries. Examples from Spain are the studies by
Gracia and Herrero (2006), Gracia et al. (2005, 2010), Garcı́a and Gracia (2010),
Gracia and Lila (2005), Arruabarrena and De Paúl (1994, 1999), and De Paúl and
Arruabarrena (1996, 2000). In France, Lehalle investigated adolescents’ acquisition
of social norms and its relationship with addictive substance consumption (Pons
et al. 1999; Jiménez and Lehalle 2012). In South Africa, Savahl (2004) examined
the combined influence of children’s exposure to violence and hope on children’s
perceptions of well-being.
Legal child protection systems Some internationally renowned research on child
protection systems is that conducted by Sinclair, in particular, a longitudinal study with
over 500 children in foster care, with relevant conclusions on the evolution of foster
care in England (Sinclair et al. 2000, 2004, 2005, 2007). Sinclair’s work has contrib-
uted substantially to attachment theory and to the understanding of foster and residen-
tial care, and methodologically to the development of cross-institutional designs.
In Spain, studies that stand out in the evaluation of the performance of residential
and foster care services for children and adolescents are those by Fernández del
Valle and Fuertes (2000) and Bravo and Fernández del Valle (1999). Costalat-
Founeau and Martinez (1998) have studied the construction of social identity
among adolescents in relation to their social integration, with particular emphasis
on the processes of identity construction among adolescents from different cultural
backgrounds.
Children’s rights Melton was one of the first authors to research the point of
view of children about their own rights (1980; 1983; Melton and Limber 1992)
using semistructured interviews with children aged 4–13. His results from compar-
ing Norwegian and North American children’s thinking on children’s rights sparked
international debate. Other studies by this author include research on family policy,
international human rights law, democratic socialization, community-wide preven-
tion of child and family problems, and promotion of child safety and well-being. He
has also published on psychological evaluations for the courts (Melton et al. 2007)
and strong communities for children (Melton and Holaday 2008; Melton 2009), and
has proposed an integrated approach to children’s rights (Melton 2009).
Important contributions to the domain of child research and children’s rights
have also been made by Rogers, who proposed ways of increasing child concerns in
society through a commitment to “making a difference,” especially influencing
policy and practice across a range of fields in health and welfare (Rogers 2001,
2008; Rogers and Rogers 1992; Rogers and Roche 1994). She has analyzed social
policy, law, and practice issues connected with child protection (Rogers et al.
1989); social representations of children’s sexuality (Rogers and Rogers 1999);
and the application of postmodern theory to child care and youth justice practice,
with the aim of stimulating debate and encouraging discussion about alternative
approaches to working for better childhoods (Rogers 2001, 2008).
Some authors have used rights dilemmas with children to understand their
perception of their own rights and to compare their points of view in different
countries, such as Italy and Spain (Saporiti et al. 2004; Casas et al. 2006). Some
pedagogical material has been published in Brazil (Wagner et al. 2009) based on
these kinds of data.
19.2.2.4 The Social Psychology of Social Problems

Intervention in social problems is a large field in applied social psychology,
overlapping with many others, particularly legal social psychology. However,
social problems are not necessarily related only (or mainly) to legal aspects.
Some aspects of social problems related to child well-being are the dynamics of
social exclusion and social inclusion, and particularly the challenge of dealing with
stereotypes and stigma perceptions.
As we mentioned in the Introduction, Gale and Chapman (1984) devoted several
chapters to the problems of childhood in general, young offenders, academic
522 F. Casas et al.
achievement, and mentally handicapped children. In the UK, Colton conducted

several studies on how child welfare policies and services may contribute to
stigmatizing their users and suggested paths for change. He also coordinated
a European research project that analyzed how this stigma occurred in welfare
services in other countries (Colton et al. 1997a, b). Bos researched stigma reduction
strategies and the impact of social stigma on the psychological well-being of
stigmatized individuals (Bos et al. 2009).
19.2.2.5 The Social Psychology of Leisure and Sports

Some authors relate this specific field of applied social psychology to the social
psychology of health, while other authors consider it an independent field. For
example, Hagger et al. (2001) conducted longitudinal research on children’s phys-
ical activities during leisure time in order to better understand the social processes
involved in people’s self-regulation of health behavior in the long term.
When it comes to the use of audiovisual media during leisure time, the bound-
aries are fuzzy: some authors consider this field to belong to the social psychology
of media and communication. We do not wish to enter into a discussion on the best
way to categorize these fields; rather, our aim is to highlight specific contributions
to child well-being.
Leisure activities The social psychology of leisure received much attention
during the latter decades of the previous century, particularly in Europe, due to
the publications of the French sociologist Dumazedier (1962), considered a pioneer
in the civilization of leisure. His publications inspired new theoretical models and
new psychosocial research on leisure. Following Dumazedier, the first Spanish
handbook to be published on the psychosociology of leisure was written by social
psychologist Munné in Mexico as early as 1980. The Handbook of Applied Social
Psychology by Alvaro et al. (1996) has a chapter on the social psychology of leisure
and free time by Munné and Codina. Codina (1994, 1996) also published some
research articles in line with Dumazedier’s proposal. However, a most outstanding
contribution can be found in Munné and Codina (1992), with interesting examples
of children as active social agents and which shows how children can create new
cultures in their leisure time independent of adults. Casas and Codina (1998) ana-
lyzed examples of leisure activities with children in situations of social exclusion.
A number of researchers have also compared children’s leisure time in different
countries. Hagger et al. (2009) analyzed teacher, peer, and parent support for
autonomy in physical education and leisure-time physical activity in four countries.
Another example of research on the physical activities of children and adolescents
during leisure time, linking them to health promotion and healthy use of free time,
can be found in Leversen et al. (2012). Examples of research analyzing children’s
behavior at play and using video games during their leisure time are van Schie and
Wiegman (1997) and Wiegman and van Schie (1998).
Another line of research has studied leisure, social development, and commu-
nication and has sometimes focused on the use and meaning that adolescents
attribute to leisure (Sarriera et al. 2007). This has led to proposals for social
intervention being made with the participation of adolescents themselves, and
videos, manuals, and written programs being produced to raise awareness and
develop tools for young people’s life projects.
Sports Authors such as Codina (1989) have stated the importance of studying
children’s sports activities as leisure time activities that can be analyzed
from a psychosocial perspective. Some social psychologists have focused research
on the contribution of physical activities and sports to children’s well-being.
Some European authors have shown particular interest in researching the affective,
cognitive, and behavioral aspects of interpersonal relationships in sports and
how social and personal relationships unfold in sports settings (Jowett and Lavallee
2007). Jowett has established an international group of scholars and creative
young minds to study the Social Psychology in Sport, aiming to offer
a global perspective, a broad knowledge base, and the latest thinking on topics
such as social relationships, communication, coach leadership, team cohesion,
motivation and motivational climate, audience effects, and morality (Jowett and
Lavallee 2007).
Motivation in sport and its relationship with school achievement and subjective
well-being have been studied by Atienza et al. (2000). Moreover, Álvarez et al.
(2012) and Fabra et al. (2013) have published studies on psychosocial processes
related to well-being and health behaviors in adolescence and promotion of positive
environments. Escartı́ and Garcı́a (1994) and Escartı́ et al. (2011) also researched
and published on how participating in sports during adolescence improves inter-
personal relationships.
How the behavior and psychosocial growth of children, adolescents, and young
adults in sports and physical activity contexts are affected or shaped by factors in
their social environment has been studied by Horn (2008) and Horn and Horn
(2007). These authors have also conducted research projects that examine the role
other significant individuals (e.g., parents, coaches, peers) play in the lives of
athletes and have been engaged in collaborative and cross-disciplinary research
projects that examine health, physical activity behaviors, and motor performance in
children, adolescents, and young adults.
Research within the social psychological framework that focuses on motivation
and coaching behavior, physical activity throughout life, and group dynamics in
sports and exercise settings was conducted by Brustad and Partridge (2002) and
Brustad et al. (2001), who also studied the relationship between physical activity
and psychological well-being in children and adults (Partridge et al. 2008). Bois
et al. (2005) posit that knowledge in these areas is necessary for applied work to
effectively contribute to the psychological, social, and emotional development of
children and adolescents as they engage in opportunities for sport and physical
activity.
19.2.2.6 The Social Psychology of Interpersonal Relationships,

Communication, and Media Use
An important topic for social psychologists is child interactions and relationships
with others. Many studies of this kind can be found in handbooks devoted to
parent–child relations, as in Kuczynski (2003), or family communication, as in
524 F. Casas et al.
Turner and West (2006), which appear to be more related to the Social Psychology
of Family. However, the publication by Harris (1992) showed that the peer group
relationship is very important for child well-being and development, which
followed similar earlier proposals by Sherif et al. (1961).
Many handbooks have been published on the social psychology of communica-
tion, but they seldom refer to children. Only with the implementation of the so-
called NICTs (New Information and Communication Technologies) in the late
twentieth century – now no longer new, so we will refer to them as ICTs – was
attention paid to children and adolescents with respect to ICTs, not only because of
adult concern over their children’s use or even addiction to them, but particularly
because of the debate over children’s abilities with audiovisual technologies.
Recently, more and more research and publications have focused on the “new
relationships” children establish through ICTs. This was the case with an interna-
tional study of data from Brazil, India, Norway, Spain, and South Africa conducted
by Casas et al. (2007b).
Children and new technologies are key topics when discussing our common
social future in the international arena. “Screen” technologies are probably the most
relevant for different reasons: they are related to information, communication
possibilities, new cultures, development of new skills, and knowledge construction.
In addition, children have shown that they are more skilled than many adults in
using ICTs, a fact that has promoted new research into children’s social compe-
tences (e.g., Hutchby and Moran-Ellis 1998). In some family communication
handbooks, entire sections are devoted to “the media-family interface,” and new
concepts like “wired children” and “cyberkids” are frequently mentioned (e.g.,
Turner and West 2006). Some publications by social psychologists have pointed
out how audiovisual technologies, multimedia, and other technologies influence our
everyday lives, our lifestyles, our ways of entertaining, and also our ways of
relating and communicating with other people; this is also true for children
(Casas et al. 2001). These media also stimulate our capacities (cognitive, sensitive,
emotional, creative) via different new possibilities, e.g., interactivity and virtual
reality. Such tools have also brought new elements to academic and epistemolog-
ical debates: not only do we face new situations, fantasy and virtuality have also
become “real” because we can interact with them and change them (Munné and
Codina 1992). They potentially can be used to stimulate, promote, and practically
experience values that are very important for international understanding and
cooperation: respect for natural and cultural diversity, peace, tolerance, and
democracy.
Of course, new situations and new technologies also imply new risks (Barkler
and Perley 1997). We must not forget the negative side and the negative social
impact of some technological developments and must work together to prevent and
avoid them. The effects on children’s socialization of broadcasting certain compet-
itive values, emphasizing rivalry, aggression, and violence, especially via the
cinema and television, have repeatedly been studied, debated, and denounced,
though sometimes with contradictory results (Martı́n Serrano 1990; Barkler and
Perley 1997; Strasburger and Wilson 2002).
Children’s cultures are quickly changing, as is children’s cultural consumption

of leisure (Munné and Codina 1992). As soon as video games and computers – and
more recently the Internet – started to fascinate children, new risks were
highlighted. However, it is clear that new opportunities have also appeared and
that we do not always maximize their benefits.
Some European-coordinated studies have explored other aspects of new technol-
ogy use among younger children from 6 to 16 years old. In general, all households
with children of these ages have much better media equipment than those with no
children (Livingstone and Bovill 2001; Feilitzen and Carlsson 2000; 2003; Feilitzen
2004). It is very important to know not only how much new technological equipment
there is in the household but also how it is used. Culture also includes human
interaction in the production of nonmaterial products. We need more relevant
information about the roles that new technologies play in children’s lives in order
to improve human relationships, human interactions, and the socialization process.
Of course, such research is not completely new. For example, in a European-
coordinated study, Suess et al. (1998) found important differences in peer relation-
ships mediatized by the media (television and “new screens” such as computers and
mobiles) use according to age group, gender, and country. They also found that in
general, for the European countries studied, the use of media (TV and new screens)
does not substitute communication and interaction with real people in any of the age
groups. While there are friends around, younger children usually prefer play to
media use, and they certainly prefer the company of friends to the company of
media. This fact has also been confirmed by several studies conducted in Spain
(Casas et al. 2001, 2007a) and Brazil (Sarriera et al. 2012).
Belonging to groups and fan cultures seems to be of special importance for
12–13 year olds in Switzerland, while in Finland this might be said of 9–10 year
olds and in Spain of 15–16 year olds. These differences in cultural timing might be
connected to the level of independence of children and the role of the family in their
lives. A very strong commitment to a certain youth group is part of the stage when
children are gaining more independence from their parents and are moving toward
youth cultures and the building of an individual identity (Suess et al. 1998).
Media content can be used to strengthen peer relationships and a sense of group
identity. Different subcultural groups express their group identity through similar-
ities in media use. When children grow older (in general, from puberty onward),
media-related play with peers is substituted by discussions with peers about media
content. Even though children and teenagers in Europe tend not to watch television
in the company of their friends, they very often comment on and speak about the
television programs and films they have seen. Console and computer games are also
common topics of conversation: both the electronic device itself and the different
games, particularly among boys. Curiously, girls who play games regularly do not
speak about them with peers as often as boys do (Suess et al. 1998).
Different studies have analyzed the relationship between parents and children
where media are involved, as was the case with Casas et al. (2002). Another study
conducted on a small sample of parents and children in Barcelona (Casas 1998b)
provided a surprising result: 50 % of parents of children who often play video
526 F. Casas et al.
games reported never having had a conversation with their children about it,
meaning that an interesting activity in the life of some children has no place in
the communication space with their parents. Some recent research has analyzed
the relationship between media use and subjective well-being using children’s
self-evaluations. For example, a study by Odendaal et al. (2006) is devoted to
child well-being and children’s use of information technology.
Finally, some authors have analyzed media use and penetration into children’s
worlds from a holistic, cultural, and sociohistorical perspective (Younis 1988;
Del Rı́o et al. 2004).
19.2.2.7 The Social Psychology of Health

Although thousands of research articles have related health with child well-being,
very few are from a psychosocial perspective. As pointed out in the review of child
well-being research by Andelman et al. (1999), most scales used in health sciences
focus on measuring outputs after medical interventions and are therefore related to
clinic populations; rarely do studies in this field refer to the general population of
children and adolescents. Exceptions can be found in epidemiological studies that
focus on prevention and studies related to health promotion.
There is a long tradition in Latin America of linking community social
intervention with children and health promotion. Usually this kind of study can
be found in books on community health, as is the case with the one edited by
Sarriera (2011).
According to Andelman et al. (1999), during the last quarter of the twentieth
century the concept of quality of life emerged as an indicator of results in health
service research. This, in his view, was the result of changes in the social reality of
medicine, among them the fact that patients and their families (service consumers)
are more well-informed and demanding, asking for more and better information.
Quality of life was therefore configured to measure the state of the patient or
consumer. The concept was considered useful in evaluating the efficiency and
quality of child healthcare services. In addition to this, Andelman et al. (1999)
found a growing dissatisfaction with health services during the 1990s. Evaluating
quality of life was perceived as providing datasets that quantified qualitative
behaviors, thereby allowing analysis of the relationship between the costs and
results of any change in the services. At the time of their review, Andelman et al.
believed that the concept had become a determining factor in formulating health
policy. According to them, measuring quality of life in the field of healthcare
emphasizes well-being and functional status, and it had come to form part of the
long-term evaluation of the outcomes or consequences, whether positive or nega-
tive, of medical interventions and living longer with chronic conditions. One of the
conclusions they reached was that most authors did not define the concept of quality
of life, and that the few definitions that did exist could be considered inconsistent.
However, they did detect the emergence of a trend in acknowledging the unique-
ness of many studies on health science and the fact that more and more authors
preferred to refer to the subject of their studies very specifically as “health-related
quality of life” (HRQOL), a term that emphasizes aspects of personal experience
related to healthcare or health status (Hanestad 1996). It was therefore implicit that
these studies did not assess people’s “overall” welfare. Moreover, Andelman et al.
(1999) highlighted the fact that children are “relatively powerless” patients. Even in
scientific research, the younger the children are, the more common it is for studies
to be based exclusively on parental reports. Few take the child’s perspective into
account. With these observations, the authors connected directly with the growing
community of experts who have defended the importance of the child’s perspective
in analyzing any reality involving them, and the line of researchers who consider
active subjects to define their own reality, which cannot be understood without
including their own point of view in the study.
Said reviewers (Andelman et al. 1999) expressed their surprise at the variety of
publications they found in the literature on quality of life in childhood, dispersed
among a wide range of magazines and books. Until 1990 the annual number of
publications was negligible, but after that date it began to grow exponentially.
Gibbons (1986) and colleagues (Gibbons et al. 2011; Roberts et al. 2012) were
concerned with social psychological theory applied to health behavior (e.g., sub-
stance use, risky sex, sun exposure, vaccinations, exercise). Their research
consisted of experimental studies conducted in controlled laboratory settings, as
well as field studies (surveys), interventions, and preventive interventions run
outside the lab. Most of their research has been based on a social-reaction model
of adolescent health-risk behavior, which contends that adolescents’ health deci-
sion-making strategies often do not follow the planned sequence outlined by most
current health-behavior theories. The Prototype/Willingness (PW) model was
designed to address the social nature of health-related risk behaviors and maintains
that behaviors are often reactions to risk-conducive situations rather than planned
activities.
Beléndez and Bodas (2011) and Beléndez et al. (2010) studied the psychosocial
aspects of the lives of children and adolescents with diabetes in Spain. Lemieux
(2008) is a social psychologist interested in the effectiveness of music-based HIV
prevention interventions among urban adolescents, reflecting a synthetic conver-
gence of several areas of interest: using music, social networks, and peer-based
strategies (Lemieux et al. 2008).
Finally, it is worth mentioning that other authors with a positive outlook and
more recent research, like Santinello et al. (2009), have focused their research on
the relationship between health and lifestyles in preadolescence, conducting
a review of contributions by community psychology in Italy, and describing,
among other things, social participation by adolescents in the community.
19.2.2.8 Environmental Psychology

Historically, Environmental Psychology was one of the first specific fields of
applied social psychology to make relevant contributions to child well-being thanks
to the seminal research of Hart (1979), who is probably better known in the
international arena for his publications on children’s participation. Hart gave
credibility to children’s own points of view, investigating their activities in city
areas, and appropriation of public space. Recently, Hart has also contributed to
528 F. Casas et al.
a major international UNICEF project on child-friendly cities. The topic of chil-

dren’s active appropriation of space was studied even before this by the French
social psychologist Chombart de Lauwe (1976).
Hart’s work had a major influence on the research of some Spanish authors such
as Morales (1984), who wrote a book with recommendations and activities for
educators to facilitate very young children’s interaction with their environment.
Hart and his colleagues also conducted research on the compression of children and
young people’s daily lives in childhood environment planning and design, and
promoted programs that encourage youth participation in articulating their concerns
and interests as a better way of realizing their rights (Hart et al. 1991; Iltus and Hart
1994). Hart and Wridt, as codirectors of the research team CERG (Children’s
Environments Research Group), have investigated children’s environmental learn-
ing and also assist in the design of innovative environmental education programs
with community-based organizations, public schools, children’s museums, chil-
dren’s gardening programs, and children’s zoos. Wridt’s (2010) more recent project
is a bilingual, practitioner-based website that provides educational resources for
children’s participation in community development and active living using com-
munity mapping as a methodology.
19.2.3 Outstanding Recent Psychosocial Contributions from Some

Specific Fields of Empirical Research
During the last two decades, empirical research from a psychosocial perspective has
made an impressive number of innovative contributions to child well-being. Most
of these can be included within the “movement” of positive (social) psychology.
There is a broad range of core concepts in positive psychology (Snyder and López
2002) that have been used from a psychosocial perspective, including self-esteem
(Bos et al. 2006), perceived social support, life satisfaction, happiness, and satis-
faction with life domains.
In this section we introduce only three specific fields that usually have employed
a broad range of such positive constructs: subjective well-being, children’s aspira-
tions, and children’s social participation. Apparently, none of these specific fields
has yet been considered as a domain of applied social psychology, but their
contributions are outstanding from the point of view of children’s well-being.
19.2.3.1 Subjective Well-being

When the term “quality of life” was coined in social science, researchers had a great
deal of accumulated experience measuring one of its components – the material
conditions of life – but very little experience measuring its nonmaterial compo-
nents, particularly at a macrosocial (population) level (Casas 2011). This paved the
way for new political and academic debates:
• What construct, if any, may capture all nonmaterial or psychosocial elements of
quality of life? Although some authors had spoken of “subjective quality of life,”
it appears that more people agreed with that proposed by Campbell et al. (1976):
perceptions, evaluations, and aspirations of the people who make up the object of
study concerning their own lives and life conditions. Nevertheless, is it possible
to capture such a broad definition in a single construct, like subjective well-
being?
• What should we ask and how? What concepts or constructs are the most
“representative” (indicative) of a “good nonmaterial quality of life”? Is it the
same as asking about personal well-being, happiness, satisfaction with life,
feeling well, and having a fulfilling life (among other possibilities)? What
instruments are needed to systematically study the subjective aspects of quality
of life?
• Which members of the population can best inform us of well-being in different
areas of life? The quality-of-life perspective originally suggested that the view of
“experts” (practitioners, researchers, or whoever) may not be enough to under-
stand complex social realities. It is important to understand the point of view of
all social agents involved in a given phenomenon being studied. Decades later,
this perspective influenced the study of child and adolescent well-being: the point
of view of the youngest generations is also important in understanding our
societies, and particularly those aspects of social life that involves or affects them.
• Can policies and programs be developed that improve the personal well-being of
groups of people or even an entire society? (Some preferred to ask whether
collective happiness can be improved). Can policies and programs improve the
well-being of subsets of citizens?
Scientific research on the psychosocial components of quality of life soon led
from macrosocial studies to microsocial studies of subjective or personal well-
being. We were no longer interested only in the general well-being of populations,
but rather we also wanted to understand, in more detail and with more precision, the
individual functioning that leads to people giving a positive evaluation of their own
personal well-being. This made it even clearer that qualityof-life research (and,
therefore, well-being research) required an interdisciplinary approach.
In fact, along with everything mentioned thus far, the 1960s saw happiness
studied scientifically for the first time, which provoked a good deal of academic
controversy. The most significant controversy commenced with the publication in
1960 of a major epidemiological study on mental health in the US, which included
an item that measured self-reported happiness (Gurin et al. 1960). This initiated
a lengthy debate known as the happiness approach versus the satisfaction approach
(Bradburn vs. Cantril), a debate that ultimately hinged on which components –
cognitive or affective – played a stronger role in one’s evaluation of personal well-
being, ending with the conclusion that both constructs were necessary but not
sufficient to understand subjective well-being (Campbell et al. 1976).
Debates on children’s subjective well-being started 30 years later, in the 1990s.
Huebner’s research in the US was pioneering. He and his team devoted themselves
to researching child and adolescent personality assessment, children’s positive
psychological well-being (e.g., life satisfaction, self-concept) (Huebner 1994a;
Park and Huebner 2005; Antaramian et al. 2008), its relationship with personality
traits, and well-being in relation to school performance (already quoted in the
530 F. Casas et al.
section on Social Psychology of Education) and health promotion (Suldo and

Huebner 2004). Huebner et al. (2004) reviewed the correlations found by different
authors between life satisfaction measures in children and adolescents and other
measures of adaptive and positive functioning. Among his conclusions are the
following points:
• Although life satisfaction scales appropriate for children and adolescents have
only recently been developed, there is support for the convergent validity of life
satisfaction measures.
• There is developing support for discriminant validity. Life satisfaction appears
to be related to, but separable from, a variety of psychological constructs such as
self-esteem, positive affect, and negative affect.
Cummins and Lau (2005) have published subjective well-being data obtained
from children using the adapted version of the PWI for school children that they
created (PWI-SC) based on the well-known PWI for adults. The PWI-SC has also
been used for data collection from children in Australia and Hong-Kong (Powell
and Tomyn 2011; Tomyn and Cummins 2011a, b; Tomyn et al. 2011, 2013).
19.2.3.2 Children’s Aspirations

From the point of view of Campbell et al. (1976), quality-of-life studies should
consider not only people’s perceptions and evaluations, but also their aspirations.
Aspirations are a complex concept, and the social sciences have not yet debated
theoretical models and procedures sufficiently to obtain good measures of people’s
aspirations in different contexts. We may consider aspirations on at least two very
different levels (Coenders et al. 2005): (1) general aspirations, which are usually
formulated in abstract terms. General aspirations, particularly among pedagogues,
have often been related to values, i.e., values the subject aspires to be appreciated
for in his or her future life; (2) concrete aspirations, which are often related to
concrete goals that the subject wants to achieve in the immediately foreseeable
future. In the tradition of QOL studies, there is a good deal of research that has
explored the relationship between the pursuit of concrete goals and subjective well-
being (many studies by T. Kasser and by R.M. Ryan are good examples, for
instance in Kasser and Ryan 1996). Additionally, there are a certain number of
studies that have explored general aspirations in very concrete domains and, in fact,
share characteristics from the two levels, but from our point of view, general
aspirations are clearly more related to values than to concrete goals, due to the
general terms used to determine the view of the surveyed subjects. Clear examples
of this are studies on desired values or qualities to be fulfilled in children’s
upbringing and education, as is found in the different questionnaires of the World
Values Survey (WVS). In the 1990, 1995, and 1999–2002 surveys, the following
item was included: Here is a list of qualities which children can be encouraged to
learn at home. Which, if any, do you consider to be especially important? Please
choose up to five. A similar item, with slight but interesting differences, was
included in some of the Eurobarometer surveys, the first in Eurobarometer 34
(Commission of the European Communities 1990) under the label What parents
expect from their children. The list also included 11 qualities or values, but only 4
were worded in exactly the same way as in the WVS. In Eurobarometer

39 (Commission of the European Communities 1993), the list was expanded to
14 values, of which only 4 were worded in exactly the same way as in
Eurobarometer 34. As a consequence of the different wording of the questions,
the results presented clear differences, although they did offer similarities as well.
In the sociopsychological tradition, there are many value studies that use similar
lists and have sometimes been administered to adolescents in order to explore their
desired values. However, the general question always refers to the present rather
than to the future. For example, in Schwartz’s studies, the question: As a guiding
principle in my life, this value is . . . , is used before presenting a list of 56 values
(Struch et al. 2002).
A relationship has often been identified in the scientific literature between
parents’ personal values and their values regarding their children’s upbringing
(educational values, according to some authors). Surprisingly, however, scientific
research has often concluded that it is very difficult to empirically demonstrate the
influence of parents’ values on their children’s; traditionally, only very modest
correlations have been found and they are always lower than expected (Hess and
Torney 1965; Connell 1972; Thomas and Stankiewicz 1974). Two opposing theo-
ries have been developed to explain this situation (Musitu et al. 2001): (1) the
evolutional hypothesis posits little direct influence. Similar attitudes and values
between parents and children are very much influenced by a shared context and will
increase only when they have to deal with similar situations and similar crises
together. Parents’ and children’s values will approach only when children become
adults. (2) The socialization hypothesis posits a direct influence, but in competition
with different socialization agents. Therefore, the older a child is, the smaller the
direct influence of the parents and the more the influence of other agents will
exaggerate the difference between parents’ and the child’s values. Longitudinal
studies tend to refute the former hypothesis but do not give clear support to the latter
either (Miller and Glass 1989). Consequently, the idea of a direct, simple, and clear
influence has to be avoided, as the interrelationships seem to be more complicated
than expected.
Some sociological research has found that values that do correlate with age and
appear to be appreciated more by youngsters than adults or vice versa. In a Spanish
sample, Orizo (1996) found that honesty and religious faith are less appreciated and
that independence, joie de vivre, and rationality are more appreciated by youngsters
than by adults, while responsibility, tolerance, and good manners did not correlate
with age. In addition, Whitbeck and Gecas (1988) point to age as a mediating factor
together with the nature of the values transmitted, the perceptions and attributions
that children have about parents’ values, and the quality of parent-children
interactions.
Because both age difference and the different everyday life contexts experienced
by the two generations may influence value structures, it is not unexpected that
present values are different between parents and children in the same family. In
order to explore a different perspective, Coenders et al. (2005) designed their research
based on a commonly imagined future (when the child reaches the age of 21)
532 F. Casas et al.
with a common aspiration (values for which the child wishes to be appreciated),
assuming that they were not comparing present values but rather salient values for
the future, i.e., a kind of general aspiration. Some salient values for the future
seem to contribute to the subjective well-being (SWB) of adolescents (Casas et al.
2004). Moreover, there is increasing evidence that those people who give more
importance to the so-called extrinsic or materialistic values (fame, money,
power), as opposed to intrinsic values (interpersonal relationships, feelings of
community belonging) have a lower overall life satisfaction (Kasser and Ryan
1996; Kasser and Ahuvia 2002). Casas et al. (2004) found similar empirical
evidence among adolescents.
19.2.3.3 Child Social Participation

It is within community social psychology that we find the most important theoret-
ical contributions on child social participation. Many of these contributions focus
on issues related to decision-making, inter- and intragroup relationships, identity
and interpersonal relationships, among others. Outstanding contributions in this
field can be found in Latin American community psychology literature.
The relationship between skills development during adolescence and social
participation and between social participation and civic development are issues
that have been investigated by, for example, Silva and Martı́nez (2007) and
Velásquez et al. (2004) in Chile, in addition to the relationship between adolescent
social participation and empowerment and self-concept.
Closely related to these issues are the subjects studied by Cicognani and Zani
(2006) in Italy, who are devoted to the effect of sense of community on young
people’s participation in civic life and the effects of involvement in the community
on young people’s social well-being. Others have investigated the role of adults as
facilitators of or obstacles to child participation. Romana and Rissotto (2001)
explored participation in planning urban spaces and children’s councils, and
Navarro et al. (2009) focused on child participation at school. Navarro (2011) has
also studied the impact of adolescent social participation on personal well-being in
two contexts of education: the School Council and a peer mediation program. Other
authors, such as Vieno et al. (2007), have studied the role of adolescent social
participation in relation to behavior problems at that age.
19.3 Theoretical Contributions of Social Psychology to the

Understanding of Child Well-being
Three specific fields of research in social psychology have had a particular impact
on childhood studies, although mostly only over the last two or three decades. The
first two fields have a common denominator: they come from theoretical
approaches born of the tradition of so-called European Social Psychology
(Jovchelovitvh 2007). The third is a multidisciplinary field, including social repre-
sentations, processes of categorical differentiation, and quality-of-life studies.
19.3.1 Social Representations
As far back as 1893, Durkheim used the concept “collective representations” to

refer to a similar phenomenon that Moscovici (1976) redefined many years later as
“social representations.” The first author to relate children’s representations of their
social world to the representations that a society has of their children was the French
social psychologist Chombart de Lauwe (1971, 1984, 1989). Unfortunately, this
author’s brilliant contribution is largely unknown because she wrote a couple of
decades “too early” for the audience that is interested in these topics and most of her
papers were written in French. She illustrated the increasing role played by the mass
media in our society by giving information and images that influence these repre-
sentations and contribute to the construction of complex universes of socialization.
At present, the topic of interest for social psychology is not only social repre-
sentations of childhood but also social representations of children’s “social” prob-
lems (and social needs) (e.g., social representations of child abuse and neglect, as
analyzed in De Paúl and San Juan 1992), and of the ways a society (and social
policies) represents how children’s social problems should be dealt with (Casas
1995, 1997, 2010).
Social representations studies have very much focused on what some authors
have called the social psychology of common sense (D’Alessio 1990; Purkhardt
1993). Moscovici has provided a set of different definitions of social representa-
tions; here are two examples:
1. Social representations are “systems” of preconceptions, images, and values that
have their own cultural meaning and persist independent of individual experi-
ence (Moscovici 1982).
2. Social representations are a set of concepts and explanations originating in daily
life in the course of interindividual communications. They are equivalent in our
society of the myths and belief systems in traditional societies; it might even be
said that they are a contemporary version of common sense (Moscovici 1981).
Therefore, social representations are related to the ways in which it seems
logical to think about children in a given society and about child-related matters
that should be considered a social responsibility. Such logic includes beliefs,
attitudes, stereotypes, perceptions, evaluations, and aspirations. Moscovici has
often stressed that social representations are structured by attitudes toward and
information about the object represented, and they are particularly structured
around a figurative nucleus, which has an organizer function and is very resistant
to change. With regard to childhood, it has been pointed out that in Western
societies, the figurative nucleus is probably organized by the idea that children
are “not-yets” (not yet adults in relation to adults’ positive values, capacities,
competences, and rights) (Verhellen 1994; Casas 1992, 1994, 1995, 1996b). Chil-
dren cannot“logically” be as adults are, they cannot “logically” have the same
rights; these are ways of thinking that may be shared by many people in a society
because they are based on a social representation.
There are also shared social representations related to children’s rights. Casas
(1998a) pointed out that children’s rights are a topic that has high consensus and
534 F. Casas et al.
low intensity in the public arena because nobody seems to be against children’s
rights, but few people seem to be active in making them real. There is no hurry
when those affected are “not-yets.” Additionally, adults represent some children’s
rights as more “logical” than others: according to a Spanish study, Spanish adults
are more positively in favor of the articles of the Convention that refer to protection
than those that refer to freedoms (mainly articles 12–16). Rights related to freedoms
seem to be “not-yet” acceptable for children, according to many adults (Casas
1998a). In the international arena, children’s rights have developed surprisingly
slowly, although movements against children’s rights seem almost nonexistent.
Each step forward has taken an age. If there is no ideological activism against
children’s rights, the slow acceptance of their importance can be explained only by
antiquated social representations of children as a very different social category of
people.
Traditional attributes that adults award to children are a lower capacity for
knowledge, less information, and a lower capacity for understanding the world
“as it is” (Postman 1982). Adults have traditionally supposed that some information
must be reserved for them. “Common sense says” that some types of information
must not be given to children and some other types of informaton must be given
only if adapted to their capacity of understanding. However, television was the
first audiovisual media to break these traditional representations, as stated by
Postman (1985).
Improving children’s situation in the world is related not only to protecting them
but also to increasing their well-being and quality of life. The media have a crucial
role in changing antiquated social representations of children, but they also have the
capacity to change representations that are not in the best interests of the child.
Finally, it should be pointed out that some authors have talked about “psychol-
ogy and the social construction of childhood” without mentioning “social repre-
sentations” while making many links to the same conceptual developments (e.g.,
Bradley 1989; Woodhead 1990; Rogers and Rogers 1992).
19.3.2 Processes of Categorical Differentiation
There is a scientific tradition – born in the Bristol School – that has undertaken
a relevant amount of theoretical and research activities related to intergroup rela-
tions (Tajfel 1981; Turner 1981). Intergroup categorical representations have three
main functions: to select characteristics so as to differentially compare groups, to
justify such differentiation and its effects (social distance, hostility, etc.), and to
anticipate the interactions between them (Doise 1976). Studies on intergroup
relations have focused mainly on rather small groups. However, at least as an
analytical exercise and in a hypothetical way, we can apply their results to try to
understand what happens in some social dynamics in which interactions develop
between generations. An important aspect of intergroup relations has been demon-
strated to be the process of categorical differentiation (Doise 1976, 1980), related to
the construction of group social identity (Turner 1987). The process of categorical
differentiation may involve different representations, different evaluations, and

different behaviors. It is defined as a psychosocial process that relates individual
activities to collective activities through intergroup evaluations and representa-
tions (Doise 1976).
One of the main consequences of many processes of categorical differentiation is
emphasizing intergroup differences and intragroup similarities (Doise et al. 1980).
It is very easy to make a long list of topics emphasizing the former, but not the
latter. A characteristic of the interrelationship between the group (or category or
generation) “adults” and the group “children” (or adolescents or minors) is that
adults have much more social power and more skills for influencing the organiza-
tion of daily life. In fact, in most societies adults have historically determined the
conditions for any child to become a member of the group of “adults.” Therefore, in
this particular case of intergroup relations, what is considered “common sense” is
determined mainly by the beliefs of one of the groups, with the other group having
no say.
Authors from different scientific disciplines and diverse theoretical paradigms
have analyzed how children have been considered by adults in Western societies
over different historical periods and their perceptions of children’s needs and
problems and the solutions to them (Ariès 1973; De Mause 1974; De Leo 1981;
Casas 1998a). Some have suggested that historical interest in children has at times
been grounded more in concern for control of social problems (juvenile delin-
quency, for example) than a genuine interest in children’s rights or well-being (Platt
1969; De Leo 1981). We may think of these categories (“childhood” and “chil-
dren”) as adult-created. And it is not only society that is adult-centered, but science
as well. We easily imagine the psychosocial activity of creating a category in the
hands (or in the heads) of adults, with children being passive. If we consider adults
as one social group contrasted against that of children as a different social group, we
can historically imagine the former as the most interested in highlighting intergroup
differences. This process may explain theoretically why adults in general – as
a social group – became so blind to children’s reality, to children’s cultures, and
to children’s contribution to their own categorization. We needed a separate Inter-
national Convention on Human Rights to make it internationally clear that chil-
dren’s rights are human rights, and that children also belong to the group with
human rights, so they are human beings with universal rights. We must give this the
attention it deserves. For example, the ages established by the national legislations
in the different European countries for legal competences of children and adoles-
cents are highly diverse and inconsistent (Council of Europe 1996). This has led
to the belief, even among scientists, that the prevailing adult-centric idea of
“competence” must be reconstructed. Consequently, other related concepts such
as “social participation” and “responsibility” also need to be reconstructed with the
perspective of children in mind. Furthermore, in the social and human sciences
children and adolescents have often been seen as a different category of people.
Child research has been mainly research about children, whereas now we are also
considering research for children, and very timidly starting to develop research
with children.
536 F. Casas et al.
19.3.3 Quality-of-Life Studies
In the social sciences, and in everyday life, quality has often been used as an
opposite of “quantity.” In order to determine how far we agree that there is quality
in a given life domain, we need some consensus about what constitutes “good
quality,” i.e., we need some normative standard to compare with “reality.”
Developmental psychologists, together with pedagogues and other profes-
sionals, have for over a century invested a great deal of energy in attempting to
understand what is good for child development. Parents usually also want the best
for their children. However, experts often disagree, or change their mind, and
parents may also disagree with them. The Convention on the Rights of the Child
also stands for children’s best interests. We have become aware that there are
important cultural differences (or diversities) regarding what is considered good
for children (Casas 1997).
What is good or best for children has traditionally been decided by parents or
experts. The first experts “knew” about children’s needs from their own view as
experts; however, this idea has gradually changed so that experts must also take into
account the perspective of the child as it may differ from that of adults. Although
this change of perspective was an important one, it was still taken for granted that
children themselves should not be asked, as they do not know (are not-yet capable
or competent to understand) what is good for them. Who and what is right and who
and what is wrong has been decided beforehand.
When different social agents perceive a reality in different ways, does this mean
some are right and some wrong? In the historical process of studying quality of life,
we asked ourselves whether this was the right question (Casas 1996a): perhaps all
social agents have a correct perception, and perhaps a complex social reality
comprises different perceptions of the same reality, and consequently all of them
are “right.” As with adults, perhaps if we ask children, sometimes they will agree
with different groups of adults and sometimes they will disagree, and then we may
question the reasons for such disagreements and learn from them.
Disagreements between children’s and adult’s perspectives regarding children’s
lives and quality of life are an important dimension of social life. Adolescents and
young people in general are well-known as much greater “risk-takers” than adults;
having new and interesting experiences and discovering their boundaries is very
important for them. For adults, security is much more important. For young people,
security measures imposed by adults may be considered simply limitations on their
freedoms and do not have to be taken into account. Are only adults right?
Are the theories and models used for research into quality of life useful for
studying children’s quality of life? The immediate response would appear to be:
Why not? If we review the research into children’s quality of life, we find very few
publications in which the children themselves have been asked questions. The most
common research in this field addresses the needs, or the perceptions of quality, that
adults (experts or parents) attribute to children. This is a misuse of the concept of
quality of life, as it betrays the basic definition of the concept that includes people’s
own perceptions, evaluations, and aspirations. Therefore, in practice, what is
labeled research on children’s quality of life is not truly about the quality of their
lives but about others’ perceptions or opinions of their lives.
Traditionally, there has been a strong reluctance among social scientists to
accept children’s self-reported information as reliable (in line with the adult social
representation of children as “not-yets”). The consequences have been dramatic in
some spheres, such as that of the judicial process (Casas 1997). This attitude started
to change only a couple of decades ago when a number of publications started to
recommend how to communicate better with children (Richman 1993). As
Garbarino et al. (1989) stated, it is the adult’s orientation and competence that
raises the difference of children’s competence, even in judicial proceedings.
We have assumed that we can understand children’s points of view just by
thinking as adults. Now we have started to learn aboutchildren’s real perspectives
from children themselves, allowing us to understand many things in our/their
common social world via a more integral perspective of the different ways it may
be understood by each generation. Some examples of new research lines from the
quality-of-life perspective can be found in the work of Casas (1997, 1998a), in the
monograph by Dannerbeck et al. (2004), and in the two monographs in the Social
Indicators Research journal coordinated by Ben-Arieh (2007a, b).
Most research on children’s quality of life has focused on their own life
satisfaction and their satisfaction with different life domains. Children do not
always evaluate their life domains as adults expect. Also, intercultural differences
do appear, making international comparison complex. However, there is more
research on these differences. For example, in the US, the Multidimensional
Student’s Life Satisfaction Scale (MSLSS) has been tested, distinguishing between
male and female friends on the friends subscale (Gilman et al. 2000). The authors of
the scale themselves admit that results for North American children of different
ethnic backgrounds, particularly Black children, should be considered with caution
(Huebner 1998). Moreover, as in towns in Spain (Alsinet 2000; Galı́ndez and Casas
2011) and Portugal (Ramitos and Sequeira 2006), items assessing “the environ-
ment” do not comprise one single factor, indicating that the responses of southern
European subjects, unlike those of North Americans, clearly distinguish between
the physical environment of the house and neighborhood and the human environ-
ment of the neighbors. Moreover, the “self” dimension is also different in countries
like Korea (Park et al. 2004). A comparison between Latin language-speaking
countries can be found in Casas et al. (2012b).
19.4 Data Facilitated by Children: Psychometric Scales

Frequently Used in Social Psychology to Assess
Children’s Well-being
19.4.1 Consulting Children in Psychosocial Research
Probably those most interested in finding out children’s points of view have been
publicists and professionals involved in the media: children are consumers and
538 F. Casas et al.
a television audience, so their preferences must be consulted. The primary interest

in understanding children’s points of view has therefore not been to promote their
well-being but to make money from them, selling them different products, con-
vincing them that their well-being is related to buying such products. However, in
recent years there have been publications in which children were asked what they
really think about something, they were asked for their opinions, perceptions, and
evaluations of the society in which they live. Throughout the 1990s we began to see
a number of studies asking children their opinion of the family (Van Gils 1995),
their own rights (Melton 1980, 1983; Melton and Limber 1992; Ochaı́ta et al. 1994),
their neighborhood or city (Casas 1998a), and so on.
Another interesting aspect that has also been raised recently is a methodological
debate: whether children are able to answer appropriately the questionnaires that
explore their satisfaction with life as a whole or with a given life domain. This kind
of questionnaire, which until recently was designed for adults only, has probably
represented the major field of activity that quality-of-life researchers have been
involved in for the last three decades. Huebner (1991) tested one-dimensional and
multidimensional satisfaction questionnaires adapted for children and concluded
that the notion of global life satisfaction can be reliably and validly assessed by
children as young as 8 years old. Furthermore, the studies cumulatively suggest that
the construct is related to but can be differentiated from similar psychological
constructs such as positive affect, negative affect (e.g., anxiety), and self-esteem.
Research of this type opens up interesting new perspectives for studying children’s
quality of life, including measures of their psychosocial conditions of living, like
that conducted with adults.
19.4.2 Psychometric Scales in Psychosocial Research
Possibly the most commonly used scale in psychosocial research is the OLS
(Overall life Satisfaction) scale, with a single item on overall life satisfaction that
has its origins in the approaches proposed by Campbell et al. (1976). Originally
designed for adults, it has been used fairly widely with children and adolescents,
with good performance despite the different formulations and language variations
that lead to nuances which may cause small differences in results. There is consid-
erable consensus that well-being measures should include an item on oveall life
satisfaction.
One of the first scales specifically created to assess the subjective well-being of
children was the Perceived Life Satisfaction Scale (PLSS) by Adelman et al.
(1989), based on life satisfaction domains. Harter’s work (1982) on children’s
and adolescents’ perceptions of their own abilities, the study by Veenhoven and
Verkuyten (1989) on the psychological well-being of children, and that by Leung
and Leung (1992) on the relationship between life satisfaction and self-concept in
childhood and adolescence are among the predecessors (Casas et al. 2000) of
studies on adolescent well-being, although they did not develop any commonly
used new scales.
Psychometric instruments commonly used in research into children’s and ado-

lescents’ well-being can be grouped into different types. On the one hand, there are
single-item scales that are based on the hypothesis that satisfaction or happiness is
assessed by a single score or synthetically from the response to a global or generic
question (e.g., the Fordyce happiness scale [Fordyce 1988]). On the other hand,
there are two types of multiple-item scales: the one-dimensional and the
multidimensional. The one-dimensional scale is based on the assumption that all
items load onto a single component. There are two types of one-dimensional scale:
those known as context-free, which include very generic items on overall life
satisfaction (e.g., the Satisfaction with Life Scale [SWLS] designed by Diener
et al. 1985), and scales based on satisfaction domains, which include more or less
abstract items on satisfaction with life domains (e.g., the Personal Well-being Index
[PWI] by Cummins et al. 2003). The multidimensional scale includes groups of
items theoretically thought to belong to different components of the subjective
well-being construct (e.g., Huebner’s MSLSS [Huebner 1994b], which includes
five dimensions: family, friends, school, living environment, and self).
Another scale often used with the adolescent population is Fordyce’s Happiness
Scale (FHS) (Fordyce 1988), although it was originally designed for use with
adults. It uses a single item to evaluate degree of happiness: “In general, how
happy or unhappy do you usually feel?” and includes 11 possible responses:
0 means “Extremely unhappy” (utterly depressed, completely down) and 10 mean
“Extremely happy” (feeling ecstatic, joyous, fantastic). In 1998, Diener et al.
proposed the so-called Satisfaction with Life Scale (SWLS). It is a five-item scale
with one component designed for the adult population, although it has also been
used with adolescents. It asks subjects to indicate their level of agreement with a 7-
point Likert scale, where 0 means “No, not at all” and 7 means “Yes, totally.”
Successive studies by Huebner from 1991 onward contributed to a debate on the
hierarchical structure and specific areas that make up life satisfaction in children
(Alsinet 2000) and adolescence (Casas et al. 2000). Huebner developed the follow-
ing various scales:
(a) The Student’s Life Satisfaction Scale (SLSS) (Huebner 1991), based on the
work of Diener et al. (1985), was designed as a brief instrument for measuring
overall life satisfaction in children. The scale is based on the assumption that
the best way to explore overall life satisfaction in children is through items that
require their own evaluation of their lives in general, without reference to
specific domains (Alsinet 2000).
(b) The Multidimensional Student’s Life Satisfaction Scale (MLSS) (Huebner
1994b), designed to provide a general assessment of overall life satisfaction
in children and adolescents, but unlike the SLSS, it explores satisfaction using
five specific domains, giving a separate score for each: family, friends, school,
living environment, and self (Gilman et al. 2000).
(c) The Brief Multidimensional Students’ Life Satisfaction Scale (BMSLSS),
which comprises items from each life satisfaction domain identified in the
MLSS. The first study to use this abbreviated scale with adolescents was
conducted in 2007 (Zullig et al. 2007).
540 F. Casas et al.
Another scale is the Quality of Life Profile – Adolescent version (QOLP-Q)

(Raphael et al. 1996), which was first used to measure the quality of life of
Canadian adolescents and young people 14–20 years old. Participants were asked
to rank, using a 5-point Likert scale, the importance of certain items (“How
important is it to me. . .”) and satisfaction (“How satisfied am I with this part of
my life?”). The scale consists of 54 items grouped into three areas, Being, Belong-
ing, and Becoming, each of which has three additional areas with six items each
(Bradford et al. 2002).
Other authors, like Cummins, have dedicated their work to exploring well-being
in adults but have throughout their research career also shown an interest in the
study of well-being in adolescents and children. Cummins adapted his first adult
ComQOL scale to make a version for children and adolescents aged between 11 and
18: the Comprehensive Quality of Life Scale – Students version (ComQOL Stu-
dents) (Gullone and Cummins 1999). He later constructed the PWI (Personal Well-
Being Index), which has often been used successfully with adolescents, although
some studies suggest that the scale would be improved if new domains were added
(Casas et al. 2011; Tomyn and Cummins 2011). Finally, Cummins and Lau also
adapted the scale for use with preadolescents, the PWI-SC, and did the same for
preschool children, the PWI-PS (Cummins and Lau 2005).
19.5 Discussion
From the brief review we have presented here, it would appear that despite the large
amount of knowledge generated within the field of social psychology throughout its
history and its enormous potential for the study of child well-being, only a few
social psychologists have yet posed conceptual debates on this topic. However,
even though our presentation aspired to provide nothing more than a list of
examples, and not even an exhaustive one at that, the wide range of topics
investigated from a psychosocial perspective is quite impressive.
The emergence of positive social psychology in the 1990s represented notable
progress for the study of well-being. Concepts central to social psychology, such as
self-esteem, social support, and perceived control, have experienced renewed
momentum from a much more positive perspective. This positive outlook connects
squarely with the approach to quality-of-life research since its origins, based much
more on what works but can be improved than what does not work or the
psychopathological.
In addition to quality-of-life studies, this chapter has also highlighted other
specific contributions to research into the subjective well-being of children derived
from social psychology, namely, the theories of social representations and categor-
ical differentiation processes, which have had a major impact on child well-being
research, although it must be said that neither was initially formulated with children
in mind. We have also seen other theoretical developments in social psychology,
such as those related to interpersonal relations in information and communication
technologies, the qualities and values that adolescents aspire to be appreciated for in
the future, and social participation, all of which are providing very relevant
knowledge with regard to child well-being. There are still other psychosocial
frameworks that can help improve our understanding of child well-being in the
near future, such as the so-called eudaemonic approach to the study of psycholog-
ical well-being (Casas 2011).
Our review of contributions from social psychology to child well-being research
shows that these often come from concrete research teams with a leader sensitive to
children’s issues. However, there is often little connection between teams
researching the same subject, which indicates the need for more networking,
especially internationally and between countries with different language back-
grounds. Although researchers work in groups in which exchanges with other
researchers are increasingly common, there is a lack of promotion of broader
meeting spaces that encourage reflection and joint work. In this respect, the
approaches of positive social psychology to which we referred earlier could act as
a unifying element in the study of child well-being from a psychosocial perspective,
while retaining the interdisciplinary spirit that fueled its emergence, as happened
with quality-of-life research.
A more in-depth understanding of child well-being will require further concep-
tual development from a psychosocial perspective, as we still do not know to what
extent some of the interactions and interinfluences of factors that have been
extensively studied with adults work with the child and adolescent population.
Further progress is also called for in the design of quantitative tools for evalu-
ating child and adolescent subjective well-being, in line with the maxim that to
better understand a phenomenon, it is necessary to measure it, and that in order to
measure it, effective tools are required. However, it is also essential that we
improve our understanding of the views of children and young people with respect
to what constitutes well-being and quality of life for them. This entails advances in
the use of qualitative data collection with children as more active subjects in
scientific research.
This chapter has provided an overview of scales that were either created to study
well-being in adults and adapted to younger people or designed with children in
mind. This has led to a large number of data samples collected from children in
different countries, which in turn has led to comparative studies. However, much
more progress is needed with regard to the international availability and compara-
bility of data. These data allow us to begin to answer many of the questions raised
by child well-being research, but they also allow us to question some of the
assumptions that have underpinned well-being research since its origins, such as
its relative stability throughout the life cycle. In this respect, further knowledge of
child well-being, while of interest in itself, also advances knowledge of well-being
in all populations, regardless of age.
However, there is still some way to go as far as the availability of psychometric
instruments is concerned. As adult researchers, we do not yet have sufficient
knowledge on how children express their well-being, let alone what scales to use
to quantify it. Social psychology has a long tradition of measuring subjective
542 F. Casas et al.
phenomena and much experience with the many biases that all measurement pro-
cedures entail. This accumulated knowledge may prove very useful in advancing
child well-being research on a population level.
Child well-being research has for some time been the object of important
debates, the response to which is key to both its present and future development.
One of these debates has to do with children’s competences, that is, the extent to
which children may be considered “reliable” informants of their own well-being.
Social psychology not only forms part of these debates, it also provides conceptual
and theoretical elements that contribute to making child well-being a field of study
that receives more attention from the scientific world and policy makers.
In the preceding sections we have referred to the fact that in the social and human
sciences, research on children’s issues has traditionally been about children, and that
only in recent years have we begun to see research for children and even more recently
research with children. This change in approach in how to conduct child-based research,
although slow and full of obstacles generated by enormous adult resistance, has impor-
tant implications for child well-being research. First, it can help increase the reliability of
the research as it involves greater recognition of the active role that children have in
assessing their own well-being. Second, it increases the ecological validity of this type of
research because it no longer responds only to the concerns of researchers: it also seeks
solutions to the problems and needs of children in the context in which they live.
The aim of this chapter was to draw together information on the wide range of
contributions that social psychology has made to child well-being research. This
review is intended to provide a global overview that highlights areas for which there
is already a significant body of knowledge, such as life satisfaction, self-esteem,
and perceived social support, and other areas, such as social participation, where
there is still a long way to go. It also allows us to address new challenges such as
seeking responses to what we do not know or know little about, which in turn will
lead to advances in policies and practices that promote child well-being.
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Psychology of Child Well-Being
20
Arne Holte, Margaret M. Barry, Mona Bekkhus, Anne Inger Helmen
Borge, Lucy Bowes, Ferran Casas, Oddgeir Friborg, Bjørn Grinde,
Bruce Headey, Thomas Jozefiak, Ratib Lekhal, Nic Marks, Ruud
Muffels, Ragnhild Bang Nes, Espen Røysamb, Jens C. Thimm, Svenn
Torgersen, Gisela Trommsdorff, Ruut Veenhoven, Joar Vittersø,
Trine Waaktaar, Gert G. Wagner, Catharina Elisabeth Arfwedson
Wang, Bente Wold, and Henrik Daae Zachrisson
20.1 Introduction: Arne Holte
This chapter addresses child well-being from a psychological point of view. In

doing so, we need to remember that psychology is not one single discipline but
A. Holte (*)
Norwegian Institute of Public Health, Oslo, Norway
M.M. Barry
Health Promotion Research Centre, Galway, Ireland
Discipline of Health Promotion, School of Health Sciences, National University of Ireland,
Galway, Ireland
M. Bekkhus • A.I.H. Borge • E. Røysamb
Department of Psychology, University of Oslo, Oslo, Norway
L. Bowes
Centre for Mental Health, Addiction and Suicide Research, School of Social and Community
Medicine, University of Bristol, Bristol, UK
F. Casas
Faculty of Education and Psychology, Research Institute on Quality of Life, University of Girona,
Girona, Spain
O. Friborg • J.C. Thimm • J. Vittersø • C.E.A. Wang
Departement of Psychology, University of Tromsø, Tromsø, Norway
B. Grinde • R. Lekhal • R.B. Nes
Division of Mental Health, Norwegian Institute of Public Health, Oslo, Norway
B. Headey
Melbourne Institute, University of Melbourne, Melbourne, Australia
T. Jozefiak
Department of Child and Adolescent Psychiatry, St. Olav’s Hospital–Trondheim University
Hospital, Trondheim, Norway

556 A. Holte et al.
covers a wide range of psychological disciplines from evolutionary psychology and

behavior genetics via psychometrics to developmental, cognitive, personality,
and social psychology – all of them relevant to the psychology of child well-
being. The psychological study of well-being has a history of approximately
2,500 years. The modern psychological study of well-being and its close relatives,
resilience, and prosocial behavior belong together under a common umbrella called
“positive psychology.” In this chapter, we draw upon both of the ancient and the
modern tradition. We have addressed the concept of well-being from both
a theoretical and an empirical position. Yet, we have to admit that there is no
unified way of sorting all the terms associated with the psychological study of
well-being. Consequently, terms like happiness, subjective, emotional, affective,
cognitive, mental and psychological well-being, life satisfaction, satisfaction with
life, quality of life, enjoyment, engagement, meaning, flow, and hedonic balance
have not been used consistently trough out the chapter.
A large number of experts on the psychology of child well-being have contrib-
uted to the chapter. The chapter starts by framing well-being into the tradition of
positive psychology (Wold) and tracing the greater historical lines (Vittersø),
before we introduce current psychological conceptualizations of well-being
(Vittersø), resilience (Friborg), and prosocial behavior (Bekkhus and Bowes).
We then discuss psychological measurements of well-being in general (Røysamb)
and indicators (Casas) and methods of measurement (Casas) used with children and
adolescents in special. We ask who we should trust in – childrens’ own assessments
or their parents’ (Jozefiak), before we address health and health-related quality of
life as indicators of well-being (Holte). We present examples of how well-being is
N. Marks
Centre of Well-being, New Economics Foundation, London, UK
R. Muffels
School of Social and Behavioral Sciences and Reflect, Tilburg University, Tilburg, Netherlands
S. Torgersen • T. Waaktaar
Centre for Child and Adolescence Mental Health, Eastern and Southern Norway, Oslo, Norway
G. Trommsdorff
Department of Psychology, University of Konstanz, Konstanz, Germany
R. Veenhoven
Erasmus Happiness Economics Research Organization, Erasmus University, Rotterdam,
Netherlands
North–West University, Potchefstroom, South Africa
G.G. Wagner
DIW (German Institute for Economic Research), Berlin, Germany
B. Wold
Department of Health Promotion and Development, University of Bergen, Bergen, Norway
H.D. Zachrisson
Norwegian Center for Child Behavioral Development, Oslo, Norway
20 Psychology of Child Well-Being 557
distributed among children in different countries (Wold) and ask whether such
measurements are valid and what influence them across cultures and countries
(Trommsdorff). We continue by – on a broad base – to single out what affects the
experience of well-being generally and among children and adolescents particu-
larly. The issues covered are evolution (Grinde), genes (Nes), cognition (Thimm
and Wang), personality (Torgersen and Waaktaar), family (Bowes and Bekkhus),
transfer of values between parents and child (Headey, Muffels and Wagner), play
(Borge), peer relations (Borge), kindergarten (Zachrisson and Lekhal), and school
(Barry). We end the chapter by presenting five ways to practically enhance happi-
ness in everyday life (Nes and Marks) and by guiding you through the world’s
largest database on happiness – the World Database of Happiness (Veenhoven).
20.2 Conceptualization
20.2.1 Positive Psychology: A Framework for Studying Subjective

Well-Being: Bente Wold
Subjective well-being (SWB) is one of the most prominent topics in the study of
positive mental health and attracts increasingly more attention in psychology, in
particular in the branch of positive psychology. Positive psychology was introduced
as a new area of psychology in 1998, when Martin Seligman chose it as the theme
for his term as president of the American Psychological Association. According to
Seligman (2002b, p. 3), “The aim of positive psychology is to catalyse a change in
psychology from a preoccupation only with repairing the worst things in life to also
building the best qualities in life.” The first Handbook of Positive Psychology
(Snyder and Lopez 2002) emerged in 2002, identifying several broad topics to be
studied in positive psychology, such as identifying human strengths, fostering well-
being, resilience, prosocial behavior, and quality of life (QOL). In this perspective,
strategies and techniques for enhancing the well-being are educational, relational,
social, and political interventions, not clinical treatments.
An important task in positive psychology is to get insights into well-being and
QOL in terms of three overlapping paths or pursuits: (1) the pleasant life, or the “life
of enjoyment,” how people optimally experience, forecast, and savor the positive
feelings and emotions that are part of normal and healthy living (e.g., relationships,
hobbies, interests, and entertainment); (2) the good life, or the “life of engagement,”
the beneficial effects of immersion, absorption, and flow that individuals feel when
optimally engaged with their primary activities; and (3) the meaningful life, or “life
of affiliation,” how individuals derive a positive sense of well-being, belonging,
meaning, and purpose from being part of and contributing back to something larger
and more permanent than themselves (e.g., nature, social groups, organizations,
movements, traditions, belief systems).
Among children, the three paths are present in many areas of life, and play is
among the most evident. Playing is for children and positive psychology seeks to
558 A. Holte et al.
preserve this zest for movement as children grow older (for details, see
Sect. 20.4.8). Physical education can illustrate how students could learn to become
excited about physical activity through a positive psychology approach. When
individuals are aware of, pursue, and blend all three lives (the pleasant life, the
engaged life, and the meaningful life), authentic happiness or the full life is
more likely to be achieved. Moreover, inherent to positive psychology is the
assumption that schools are integral in the promotion of positive human develop-
ment. Given the need to create and sustain meaningful experiences for all students,
the pursuits of positive psychology appear to be a natural match with quality
physical education. Interesting, challenging, and pleasurable physical activity
would internalize an authentic feeling of happiness in students (Cherubini 2009).
In their chapter on “Positive Psychology for Children,” Roberts and colleagues
(2002) suggest that the focus in child psychology increasingly has become one of
perceiving the competence of the child and his or her family and enhancing growth
in psychological domains. The previous perspective of coping as a response to
a stressor has been confronted with an increasing recognition that growth and SWB
occur through adaptations to an ever-changing environment in a child’s life. Child
well-being in a positive psychology perspective entails the understanding of posi-
tive development resulting from constructive and productive socialization and
individuation processes. Through socialization, the child becomes integrated into
society as a respected participant, by being able to establish and maintain relations
with others, to become an accepted member of society at large, to regulate one’s
behavior according to society’s norms, and generally to get along well with other
people. Individuation requires distinguishing oneself from others, by forming
a personal identity, developing a sense of self, and finding a special place for
oneself within the social network. There is a dialectical interplay between the
needs of the child to maintain relations with others and the needs of the child to
construct a separate self. Child well-being may be considered as a product of
fruitful experiences during socialization and individuation. The task at hand for
positive psychologists is to examine how individual and social resources can be
strengthened to ensure a positive outcome of these processes.
The process of successful adaptation despite challenging or threatening circum-
stances, denoted as resilience, has attracted particular interest. The best-
documented asset of resilient children is a strong bond to a competent and caring
adult, who need not be a parent (Masten et al. 2011). According to Masten and
colleagues (2011), resilience arises from ordinary protective processes and
strengths such as self-regulation skills, good parenting, community resources, and
effective schools. Resilient youth have much in common with competent youth who
have not faced adversity, in that they share the same assets. For example, youth
growing up in an adverse environment characterized by poverty may excel in
academic achievement if they experience good parental support.
Resilience may be fostered by risk-focused strategies aimed at reducing the
exposure of children to hazardous experiences or asset-focused strategies to
increase the amount of, access to, or quality of resources children need for the
development of competence. Such strategies may include providing a tutor and
building a recreation center with structured activities for children or programs

intended to improve parental and teacher skills (for details, see Sect. 20.2.4).
According to the self-determination theory (SDT) (Deci and Ryan 2012), child
well-being depends on the extent to which the social environment provides oppor-
tunities for satisfaction of three innate psychological needs – competence, auton-
omy, and relatedness. When children feel competent, autonomous, and socially
accepted, they are more likely to develop self-regulation skills and to be intrinsi-
cally motivated for positive behavior, which in turn may instigate feelings of
satisfaction and well-being. Prosocial behavior, defined as helping behavior or
acts undertaken to protect or enhance the welfare of others, may serve as an
example. SDT posits that the degree to which a prosocial act is volitional or
autonomous predicts its effect on well-being and that psychological need satisfac-
tion mediates this relation (Weinstein and Ryan 2010). The authors suggest that
engaging in prosocial behavior can foster competence, need satisfaction, and well-
being because helpers are acting on the world in ways that directly result in positive
changes. Moreover, helping is inherently interpersonal and thus impacts relatedness
by directly promoting closeness to others and cohesiveness or intimacy. Finally,
prosocial actions that are volitional also provide opportunities to experience auton-
omy, need satisfaction, and the positive states that derive from these prosocial
actions (for details, see Sect. 20.2.5).
20.2.2 A Brief History of Well-Being: Joar Vittersø
Although research on child well-being is a relative newcomer, it is clearly grounded

in ideas that are as old as history itself. Systematic thinking on well-being began
with the antique concept of eudaimonia, a term frequently rendered in psycholog-
ical literature as only referring to Aristotle’s ideas on happiness. This is misleading
since the word was in use over 100 years before Aristotle was born and because
Aristotle only formed one of several schools of ancient eudaimonia (McMahon
2006). Competing eudaimonic theories included hedonism, which may sound like
a contradiction to modern psychologists. But for the ancients, hedonism was
a conceptual option within eudaimonia (Keyes and Annas 2009). One should also
bear in mind that the well-being of children was not a matter of interest for the
ancient Greeks. Aristotle, for instance, claimed that children could never achieve
eudaimonia.
Psychologists often point out that eudaimonia is a combination of “eu” (good)
and “daimon” (spirit) and that the daimon part refers to an “inner self” (e.g., Ryan
and Deci 2001; A. S. Waterman 1993). Such a translation is unfortunate since the
Greek “daimon” referred to the spiritual and immortal part of the person, and it
contrasted in this respect the term “eidolon,” which was the individual and earthly
part of a person. To be eudaimon meant to be fortunate enough to lead a life that
was blessed in a spiritual and not an individualistic way (McMahon 2006).
Disagreements existed in the ancient worldview as to what eudaimonia com-
prised. Radical versions of hedonism, like the one proposed by Aristippus, claimed
560 A. Holte et al.
that the goal of life is nothing else than maximizing feelings of pleasure, regardless
of its source. This theory from the fourth century BCE banished thought in all its
forms as a foreign element in a good life (Watson 1895). A more moderate version
of antique hedonism was articulated by Epicurus, who surely prized the pleasures of
life but who also believed that the kind of pleasures that we today refer to as
satisfaction is needed in order to live a good life. And satisfaction (or “ataraxia” in
classic Greek) was not achieved without living virtuously and having friends
(Tiberius and Mason 2009).
Aristotle’s position was different and more complex. He considered eudaimonia
to follow from the “activity of the soul in accordance with virtues” (McGill 1967,
p. 17) and that hedonism, in the sense of searching pleasure only for its pleasant-
ness, was a vulgar ideal, one that led people to become as slavish as grazing animals
(Aristotle 1996). Different understandings of Aristotle’s thinking exist, partly
because his writing was, to put it mildly, not always consistent. But philosophers
seem to agree that Aristotle considered eudaimonia to depend upon virtuous
activities. To be happy, a person must develop wisdom and exercise excellence in
virtuous activities so that he (it was always a he in Aristotle’s writing) could realize
his true and best nature and thus live a complete life (Waterman 2013). The
conditions Aristotle considered necessary for the realization of one’s potential is
more controversial. He did, for example, believe that abundance of possessions and
slaves, combined with a noble birth, numerous friends, good friends, wealth, good
children, numerous children, a good old age, bodily excellences (such as health,
beauty, strength, stature, and fitness for athletic contests), a good reputation, honor,
good luck, and virtue were needed in a happy life.
Socrates was supposedly the first individual who believed that humans could
exercise some control over their own happiness. Good lives are attainable for those
who make good choices. But in order to choose well, one needs insight – and it
takes an appropriate education to develop such wisdom. With the rise of Utilitar-
ianism, which of course happened much later, wisdom was no longer considered
necessary for a good life. The only requirement for happiness was freedom, and this
ideology still dominates contemporary thinking, in science as well as in political
rhetoric.
Another major development in the history of well-being preceded Utilitarianism
by a 100 years or so and came with the early phase of the Enlightenment. Here, not
only freedom but also equality and good social networks were considered important
for a happy life (cf. the “Liberty, equality and brotherhood” motto for the French
revolution). When Thomas Jefferson penned the well-known phrase about happi-
ness in the US Declaration of Independence, he was clearly inspired by this school
of thoughts. Indeed, Jefferson launched the idea that the right to the pursuit of
happiness is a self-evident truth with both private pleasure and public welfare in
mind. He considered the reconciliation of public and private happiness as essential
and believed that religion would ensure that “the pursuit of private happiness would
not veer off the thoroughfare of the public good” (McMahon 2006, pp. 330–331).
The influence from the Enlightenment and the Utilitarianism can easily be
observed in social sciences today. The development of economics, for example, is
essentially lodged within the ideological legacy of Bentham. Empirical well-being

research in psychology was similarly inspired (Bradburn 1969), although the notion of
life satisfaction, the essence of which was initially proposed by Epicurus and later by
John Stuart Mill, was a major source of inspiration as well (Campbell 1976; Cantril
1965). And even if happiness played a small role in the early years of psychology, it
has always been a part of the discipline (Jones 1953). A substantial growth in
happiness research began with Jahoda’s reflections on positive mental health (Jahoda
1958) and continued with the availability of well-being data from representative
samples of the populations in the USA and other countries (Bradburn 1969; Cantril
1965; Nowlis and Nowlis 1956). Part of this development includes the birth of the
subdiscipline of child well-being, which arose as a “social indicator” movement
(Ben-Arieh 2008), and was pioneered by reports on the “State of the child” from the
USA in the 1940s. The interest was also fuelled by the general progress of the concept
of children, as evolved in developmental psychology, in the emerging notion of
children’s rights, and in the expansion of available data. Comprehensive reviews of
these trends are provided by Ben-Arieh (Ben-Arieh 2000, 2001, 2005; Ben-Arieh and
Frones 2007) and others (Bradshaw and Hatland 2006; Casas 2000; Frones 2007).
20.2.3 Current Conceptualizations: Joar Vittersø
There is a confusing mixture of well-being concepts in the happiness literature.

The most critical issue in the definitional debates concerns the number of dimen-
sions needed to account for a life well lived. According to radical hedonism, we
only need one: the balance of momentary pleasures over momentary pains (the so-
called hedonic calculus). Kahneman (1999) positioned himself very close to this
hedonic ideal in his early thinking, as he used to argue that happiness is properly
understood with reference to the “experiencing self.” In this view, a person is happy
if engaged (enough of the time) in activities that he or she would rather have
continued than stopped. Kahneman later turned around and is now prepared to
include life satisfaction – the “remembering self” – as a second dimension of well-
being. Hence, we can be happy in our lives or happy with our lives. Kahneman
admits, however, that the two notions of happiness are not entirely compatible and
that nobody seems to have solved the puzzle of balancing the essence of the
experiencing with the essence of the remembering self into a unitary definition of
well-being (Kahneman 2012).
The conflict between the experiencing self and the remembering/evaluating self
has always been tricky. It can be recognized in the ancient tension between Aristippus
and Epicurus and between Bentham and Mill during the advent of Utilitarianism. In
modern philosophy, the controversy is sometimes referred to as the distinction
between sensory hedonism and attitudinal hedonism (Feldman 2010), and in studies
of well-being in the 1960s, Bradburn’s was a theory of the experiencing self, while
Cantril’s was a theory of the evaluative self (Bradburn 1969; Cantril 1965). The two
giant volumes on well-being in the 1970s – Andrews and Withey (1976) and Camp-
bell, Converse, and Rodgers (1976) – clearly struggled with the same problem, and in
562 A. Holte et al.
the early 1980s, Veenhoven (1984) attempted to solve the puzzle by including both
hedonic level and contentment as elements in his overall concept of a happy life.
Diener (1984) did something similar when he claimed that both affective/emotional
well-being and evaluative/cognitive well-being were major categories of SWB. A few
years ago, Diener mobilized over 50 well-being researchers to sign up in agreement on
the following definition of SWB: “Subjective well-being refers to all the various types
of evaluations, both positive and negative, that people make of their lives. It includes
reflective cognitive evaluations, such as life satisfaction and work satisfaction, interest
and engagement, and affective reactions to life events, such as joy and sadness. Thus,
SWB is an umbrella term for the different valuations people make regarding their
lives, the events happening to them, their bodies and minds, and the circumstances in
which they live” (Diener 2006, pp. 399–400).
Life satisfaction is the core concept in theories of SWB. Traditionally, the term
referred to a rational comparison of what people have, to what they think they
deserve and expect, or to which they may reasonably aspire(Campbell et al. 1976).
Following this view, life satisfaction can be precisely defined as the perceived gap
between aspiration and achievement, ranging from the perception of fulfillment to
that of deprivation (see also Michalos 1985). Versions of the gap approach to life
satisfaction are still thriving in some circles, such as the sustainable development
movement, whose adherents suggest that satisfaction follows from fulfillment of
basic physiological needs (O’Neill 2011), and the group of self-determination
theorists, who consider satisfaction to come from fulfillment of basic psychological
needs (Ryan and Deci 2001). But within the “Diener camp,” life satisfaction is
considered to be a report of how a respondent reflectively evaluates his or her life
taken as a whole (Eid and Larsen 2008).
The notion that every good element in life can be captured as either a pleasant
affect or as an evaluation of life in terms of goodness or badness has been referred to
as the hedonic well-being approach (Ryan and Deci 2001). By contrast, competing
theories offer taxonomies that go beyond pleasant feelings and judgments of
satisfaction. These approaches may be considered eudaimonic in the psychological
sense of the term (Tiberius 2013). An early conceptualization within this frame-
work was developed by Sen, who pointed out that even if life satisfaction is
important, it cannot possibly be the only element in a good life (Sen et al. 1987).
Deprived persons that are overworked or ill can be made satisfied by cultural norms
and social conditioning, he argued, and came up with the idea of capabilities in
order to remedy this shortcoming. Sen’s thinking is difficult to summarize, but very
briefly it suggests that a concept of well-being must account for not only feelings
and evaluations but also human functioning. To Sen, functioning is about life-
styles: what a person manages to do or to be. A capability, on the other hand,
reflects a person’s ability to achieve a given functioning. Capabilities reflect
a person’s freedom of choice between possible life-styles (Sen 2000).
Ryff (1989) has voiced another critique of SWB. She borrowed Bradburn’s term
“psychological well-being” and replaced his “affect balance” with what she
believes are the six dimensions of well-being: self-acceptance, positive interper-
sonal relations, autonomy, environmental mastery, meaning in life, and personal
growth. Although it is not quite clear why well-being consists in exactly these six
dimensions, Ryff’s theory has for two decades spearheaded eudaimonic research.
But other scholars have proposed alternative dimensions of well-being. For
instance, Keyes (Michalec et al. 2009) developed a taxonomy of flourishing (his
term for well-being) with three main categories: (1) emotional well-being (positive
affect, happiness, and life satisfaction), (2) functional psychological well-being (the
six Ryff dimensions), and (3) functional social well-being (his own five dimen-
sions). The 14 subdimensions can be reduced into a single well-being scale that runs
from languishing to flourishing. Huppert has identified ten features of well-being,
combining both feeling and functioning (Huppert and So 2013). As previously
described, Seligman (2002a) used to think that happiness was a three-dimensional
phenomenon, whereas he more recently (Seligman 2011) has proposed a theory of
well-being (called flourishing) with five elements: positive emotions (pleasure),
engagement (flow), relationships, meaning, and accomplishment (or PERMA for
short). Seligman’s theory is different from most other theories of well-being in
several respects. He has, for instance, introduced a concern for accomplishment
rather than for competence, the latter being the established concept of the domain.
Seligman further holds emotions and satisfaction as practically overlapping, and he
claims that neither is particularly important for well-being.
Other conceptualizations of well-being do indeed exist, such as those proposed by
the “Stiglitz commission” (Stiglitz et al. 2009), the self-determination theory (Huta
and Ryan 2010), the personal expressiveness approach to eudaimonia (Waterman
et al. 2008), the Homeostatically Protected Mood theory of well-being (Cummins
2010), and very many others. Let us now move to the close relatives of the concept of
well-being, namely, the concepts of resilience and prosocial behavior.
20.2.4 Resilience and Adaptation: Oddgeir Friborg
The concept of resilience was perhaps first introduced by Jack Block (1951). He
launched the psychodynamically flavored term ego-resilience representing the
ego’s ability to self-regulate impulses or behavior in a flexible manner. Although
this ability is undoubtedly still highly relevant, resilience is nowadays construed as
a phenomenon rather than a set of personality characteristics. It has therefore
largely become an atheoretical concept.
One of the first to display a sincere interest in positive outcomes was Emmy
Werner (Werner 1993). Her seminal longitudinal study, beginning in the 1950s,
aimed to study risks of maladaptation among newborn children on the Island of
Kauai. Many of these children grew up under multiple psychosocial risks, for exam-
ple, poverty, chronic discord, or parental psychopathology. The focus of the study
gradually changed as it was discovered that most children evaded the predicted doom
of their inheritance and poor psychosocial surroundings. A positive developmental
course was the normal (about 70 %) rather than the abnormal response to adversity
(Werner and Smith 1992). Furthermore, it was observed that about half of the
adolescents with considerable adjustment problems as teenagers still managed to
564 A. Holte et al.
become quite well-functioning adults. Werner’s study provides a rich source of insight
into protective factors and case examples of positive human development.
What is resilience? It mainly refers to people adapting well despite expectations
of the opposite, but it also embraces the developmental processes that facilitate
favorable outcomes. As an outcome, resilience refers to a normal development or
a successful adaptation despite experiences of significant adversity or trauma
(Luthar 2006) or, simply put, normal adjustment despite abnormal circumstances.
As a process, resilience refers to a range of psychological traits, skills, abilities, or
coping mechanisms underlying favorable developmental trajectories. But resilience
is not just about the positive forces within an individual but also about the
developmental interplay between individual and environmental factors that
together form an even stronger alliance against negative forces in life.
The number of factors identified to act protectively or buffer against stressors or
life risks is staggering (Cederblad 2003; Luthar 2006), but they are clustered within
three overarching domains: first, a broad set of personal, biological, genetic,
temperamental, or dispositional traits, skills, abilities, or attitudes; second, as
resources within the family in terms of stability and cohesion providing an envi-
ronment of emotional closeness, empathy, and support; and third, a plethora of
social and environmental resources that reinforce and support a healthy response.
Examples may be friends, other family members, colleagues, or people in the
neighborhood. It may also be institutions or community facilities offering proper
housing, employment, social security, and health-care services (Luthar 2006;
Werner 1993).
Resilience processes are inextricably related to the presence of stressors, haz-
ards, or risks and are perhaps even pointless to infer in their absence. It is important
to note that individuals characterized as resilient may still suffer from particular
vulnerabilities that may create other or later problems, such as bouts of depression
(Luthar et al. 1993) or problems with intimacy as adults (Werner and Smith 1992).
But very often they do not allow their vulnerabilities to overshadow their behavioral
strengths. They optimize the use of the resilience factors that are available to them
in order to increase protection and readjustment. To reveal this pattern in research,
one would in statistical terms look for an interaction between risk, vulnerability,
and resilience factors. An example may be taken from the Dunedin longitudinal
study. As expected, it was found that maltreatment or stressful life events early in
life increased the risk of depression and suicidal attempts in adulthood. However,
those individuals that had two long alleles in the HTTLPR serotonergic genotype
were much less likely to suffer from these problems than those having two short
alleles (Caspi et al. 2003). These genes were obviously important and protective but
far less important for individuals growing up under favorable circumstances.
A later line of research has been concerned with understanding underlying mech-
anisms. An example is social competence which is found to protect against adult
delinquency. This protection appears mediated by a reduced involvement with delin-
quent peers (Stepp et al. 2011). Hence, social competent adolescents are better able to
resist becoming involved in deviant social networks. Studies of mechanisms
(by examining mediators) are for that reason much more informative with regard to
how to build intervention programs rather than just knowing that social competence
counts.
A striking feature of the majority of resilience studies is that almost all find
a subgroup ranging from about 50–75 % that come out favorably despite significant
threats. An opportune question is therefore whether this is a universal phenomenon
or perhaps an evolutionary property of humans. Do human variants always exist
that are able to survive, no matter what dismal circumstances they may be subjected
to? This is an intriguing idea that has been popular to many novelists and film
directors. However, it rather seems that most of us may not escape psychological
damages if the environmental hazards are abysmal enough or lasts long enough.
The studies which may illuminate this question are few, as well as ethically
highly controversial. But a study by Egeland, Sroufe, and Erickson (1983) on
mothers abusing their children physically and verbally, or who were psychologi-
cally unavailable or severely neglectful, showed that almost none of the children as
six-year-olds escaped undamaged. Another line of studies deals with the Romanian
orphanages which gave up children for adoption to the UK following severe to
horrendous institutional deprivation (Rutter et al. 2007). Many of these were
adopted to the UK, and all of these were grossly underdeveloped with respect to
height and head circumference at entry. Although their developmental catch-up was
almost complete in terms of weight and height, head circumference at the age of 11
was still below one standard deviation. As the children were adopted at different
ages (<6, 6–24, and >24 months), the researchers could examine the impact of the
duration of deprivation. On the positive side, all of the children had a considerable
catch-up in the cognitive test scores (IQ) at age 6 and 11. However, the majority of
the children older than 24 months at the time of adoption did not improve beyond an
IQ score considered as very impaired (<70) (Beckett et al. 2006). These studies
indicate that abysmal social and environmental surroundings are detrimental to
human development the longer they are allowed to act.
A final, rare longitudinal study that deserves attention is the study by John Laub
on the life course of delinquent teenagers growing up in low-income areas of
Boston (Laub and Sampson 2003), following them from childhood to the age of
70. The most striking finding is the diversity in developmental trajectories. The
authors reject the notion that early childhood experiences (e.g., antisocial behavior
or poor school performance) are sturdy markers of long-term problems and criminal
offense. Instead, they point to positive changes as a constant interaction of indi-
vidual choices and environmental support. Despite early instability and family
chaos, those who desisted from crime had some environmental factors in common:
employment, military service, marriage, and living arrangements. Entering military
service and becoming married represented turning points with respect to a change
in antisocial or delinquent behavior. Although work was less influential in
changing attitudes and behavior, it represented a strong protective factor in terms
of routines, structure, and meaningful activities sustaining desistance from crime.
Marriage was particularly protective as it provided limitations to socializing with
566 A. Holte et al.
delinquent peers. Enrolment in the military services acted protectively in a similar

manner. Studies such as these illustrate the importance of social and structural
support systems if a long-term positive adaptation is to be expected.
How do we measure resilience? One option could be to measure the positive
outcome per se. However, instruments assessing protective factors are most prob-
ably a better approach as they are better suited to study how resilience mechanisms
unfold over time. As our knowledge of protective factors has become extensive, it is
quite surprising that valid instruments for assessing resilience factors are heavily
underdeveloped. In a review of instruments measuring resilience, Ahern, Kiehl,
Sole, and Byers (2006) identified six tenable scales. The Resilience Scale for Adults
was one of these, which also is developed by the current author (Friborg et al.
2003). It received a good rating and is the only well-validated scale that measures
resilience protective factors covering the three overarching clusters mentioned
above: intrapersonal resources (positive perception of self, positive perception of
future, social competence, and structured style), family cohesion, and social
resources. In a range of studies, the RSA appears to be a valid measure predictive
of efficient coping following stressful life events (Hjemdal et al. 2007), a higher
tolerance of pain and stressful stimuli (Friborg et al. 2006), a more well-adjusted
personality profile (Friborg et al. 2005), and less feelings of hopelessness (Hjemdal
et al. 2012). It may be recommended for research on resilience and well-being.
20.2.5 Prosocial Behavior: Mona Bekkhus and Lucy Bowes
Prosocial behavior is thought to promote healthy development and well-being

throughout development. Prosocial behavior is usually defined as voluntary behav-
ior intended to benefit others (Eisenberg et al. 2006) and could reflect either
internalized motivated behavior or behavior motivated by a general concern for
others’ well-being. A number of empirical studies suggest that children begin to act
in a prosocial manner very early in life (e.g., Svetlova et al. 2010; van der Mark
et al. 2002) and that prosocial behaviors usually increase with age (Benenson et al.
2003). For example, infants have been found to show distress in response to another
infant’s crying (Zahn-Waxler and Smith 1992), suggesting a predisposition for
empathy. In a study examining prosocial behavior in toddlers, Svetlana and col-
leagues (2010) showed that toddlers as young as 18 months were able to instru-
mentally help adults and that the tendency to act in a prosocial manner increased
significantly from 18 to 30 months of age. Moreover, in their meta-analysis,
Eisenberg and Fabes (Eisenberg and Fabes 1998) found that prosocial behavior,
such as sharing/donating, helping, and comforting others, was higher in adoles-
cence than in childhood. However, longitudinal studies focusing on interindividual
change and stability suggest that there are inconsistencies in the age-related
increase in prosocial tendencies (e.g., Carlo et al. 2007; Hay et al. 1999). Nantel-
Vivier, Kokko, Caprara, Pastorelli, Gerbino, Paciello, and coworkers (2009) exam-
ined prosocial behavior longitudinally across childhood and adolescence using
a multi-informant, cross-cultural design. Their results indicate stable or declining

levels of prosocial behavior over a 5-year period, from 10 to 14 and 15 years of age.
Similarly, a study by Côté and colleagues (2002b) found a relatively high degree of
stability in helping behavior over a 6-year period (6–12 years), using different raters
over the study period. Thus, it appears that, although there are age-related changes
in prosocial behavior, there is also a relatively high degree of continuity from
childhood to adolescence.
Studies investigating the development of prosocial behaviors have largely
focused on environmental influences of parenting, and twin studies have shown
that positive and warm parenting promotes children’s prosocial behavior (e.g.,
Eisenberg et al. 2006). However, it is increasingly recognized that environmental
influences do not operate isolated from genetic influences (Rutter 2006). Thus,
there is a need to focus on susceptibility to environmental influences. Research on
parent-by-child temperament interactions, plasticity (Ellis et al. 2011), and differ-
ential susceptibility (Belsky et al. 2007) suggests that the characteristics of indi-
viduals (and their genotypes) may make them more susceptible to the rearing
environment in a “for better or for worse” manner. That is, some children may,
due to temperamental or genetic reasons, be more susceptible to both the adverse
effects of, for example, parenting and the beneficial effects of supportive rearing
(Pluess and Belsky 2009). Emerging evidence suggests that this may also be the
case with prosocial behavior. For example, Knafo, Israel, and Ebstein (2011)
examined the heritability of children’s prosocial behavior in 168 twin pairs. Their
findings revealed an interaction pattern suggesting that some children might be
more susceptible to their rearing context. That is, for children with the 7-repeat
allele (DRD4-III polymorphism), prosocial behavior increased with an increase
in maternal positivity. This linear relationship was, however, not found for the
7-repeat absent children. Children with the 7-repeat allele, whose mothers were the
most positive, showed the highest levels of prosocial behavior. But children with
the 7-repeat allele, whose mothers were the least positive, showed the lowest levels
of prosocial behavior. Thus, it is clear that both genetic and environmental factors
contribute to explaining individual differences in children’s prosocial behavior (for
details, see Sect. 20.4.3).
In general, all children can act prosocially, but they differ in the frequency in
which they engage in prosocial behavior and in their motives for behaving in
a prosocial way. From a public health and well-being perspective, it is often thought
that promoting prosocial behavior should encourage healthy development. For
example, in a study by Côté and colleagues (2002a), girls who followed an
abnormally low prosocial trajectory were at risk for developing conduct disorder
in adolescence. The assumption is that promoting prosocial behavior in such groups
may reduce the risk of conduct problems. At the opposite end of the continuum,
very high prosocial behavior has been found to be a risk for depressive symptoms in
18-year-olds (Gjerde and Block 1991). Thus, both high and very low prosocial
behavior may function as an additional risk for mental health, rather than promoting
SWB and positive health.
568 A. Holte et al.
20.3 Measurement
20.3.1 Measuring Well-Being: Espen Røysamb
In parallel with the conceptual and theoretical development of the well-being field,
recent decades have witnessed an increased focus on measurement issues and
methodological challenges. Is happiness measurable? And, if so, to what extent
are measures reliable and valid? From a general skepticism toward
measuring happiness, psychology has moved into developing and evaluating
a number of well-being instruments. Based on recent developments, we now
believe that measuring well-being is just as feasible as measuring, for example,
mental disorders.
However, in contrast to mental disorders, well-being is typically measured as
continuous rather than categorical phenomena. Clinical disorders such as anxiety
and depression and neurodevelopmental disorders such as ADHD and autism are
regularly defined by a set of criteria or symptoms, with a certain number of fulfilled
criteria required to qualify for a diagnosis. Sum scores of symptom items are also
used to represent continuous dimensions but then often with cutoff values to
indicate severe symptom load or diagnostic level. Well-being instruments are
primarily designed to capture degrees of well-being, ranging from low to high –
without predefined cutoff values.
Whereas the general construct of QOL is sometimes measured by means of
external criteria, such as access to education and health care, the psychological
perspective on well-being focuses on the subjective or perceived aspects of the
good life. Thus, well-being instruments aim to capture positive and negative
emotions and cognitive evaluations of life. Accordingly, external factors, such as
education and health care, are seen not as components of well-being but rather as
possible sources and predictors of well-being.
As outlined, a number of well-being constructs have been developed: SWB, life
satisfaction, positive affect, psychological well-being (PWB), mental well-being
(MWB), personal well-being (PWB), flow, and hedonic balance. Correspondingly,
several self-report instruments have been constructed. Central examples include the
Satisfaction with Life Scale (Diener et al. 1985b) tapping the cognitive evaluative
component of SWB; the Positive and Negative Affect Schedule (Watson et al.
1988), measuring affective components of SWB; and the Psychological Well-being
Scales (Ryff and Keyes 1995), containing six subscales covering the PWB domain.
Other examples include the General Happiness Questionnaire, the Authentic Hap-
piness Inventory Questionnaire, the Basic Emotions State Test, the Oxford Happi-
ness Questionnaire, the Personal Well-being Index, and Cantril’s Ladder (Diener
et al. 2012; Eid and Larsen 2008; Ong and van Dulmen 2007) (for details, see
Sect. 20.3.4).
In addition to questionnaire-based self-report instruments, the field has devel-
oped several alternative methods. One approach comprises various structured and
semi-structured interviews. Another approach includes different versions of the
Experience Sampling Method (ESM). The ESM approach aims to capture emotions
and experiences in situ. Noteworthy are recent developments using modern tech-
nology, where research participants are prompted to fill out mini-questionnaires on
their smartphones at random times during the day (Killingsworth and Gilbert 2010).
A similar approach is seen in the Day Reconstruction Method (Kahneman et al.
2004), in which daily accounts of well-being and experiences are collected.
Valid measurements are essential for representing theoretical constructs and
investigating causes and consequences of well-being. Yet measurement is not
only an end result of conceptual theorizing but rather a critical feature in
theoretical developments. Measurement efforts have contributed substantially
to defining and refining constructs, to establishing boundaries between con-
structs, and also to delineating the underlying structure of well-being. For
example, the theoretical distinction between the hedonic dimension of SWB
and the eudaimonic dimension of psychological well-being has been supported
in studies of the underlying structure of well-being scales (Ryan and Deci 2001)
(see also Sect. 20.2.3).
Reliability and validity have been in focus during the development of well-being
measures. Researchers have applied state-of-the-art methods, including item
response models and structural equation modeling (SEM) to evaluate measurement
equivalence, structural validity, and underlying latent structures (Ong and van
Dulmen 2007). Thus, the most widespread instruments currently in use have
well-established psychometric properties.
As well-being theories mainly have addressed adult well-being, measurement
has also primarily been based on adult samples. However, recently there has been
an important increase in research on measurement of child well-being (Casas et al.
2012c; Gilman and Huebner 2003). Several questions are being addressed: For
which younger age groups may adult instruments be appropriate? For which age
groups may adapted versions be feasible? Is the underlying structure of well-being
similar among children and adults? As the field is moving forward, we anticipate
high attention to measurement issues among children in the years to come, leading
to validated instruments for all relevant aspects of well-being in different age
groups. We move next to a brief review and outline of some promising develop-
ments in the measurement of well-being in children.
20.3.2 Do We Need Specific Indicators for Children and

Adolescents?: Ferran Casas
May subjective information given by individual adults have any relevance at the
macro-social level? Are subjective data from adults valid and reliable? Should
we systematically collect some kinds of self-reported information from adults to
better understand some social dynamics and some social changes involving
them? Could that data from adults be useful for political decision-making? All
of these questions were raised during the 1960s, when the so-called social
indicators movement was born. One of the outstanding ideas of this movement
was that we cannot properly measure social changes with only “objective”
570 A. Holte et al.
indicators. Subjective indicators are needed because people’s perceptions,

beliefs, opinions, attitudes, and evaluations on their social life are also a part of
the social reality and have much to do with social changes. Therefore, subjective
indicators were proposed, which were considered to be relevant for political
decision-making. Due to the lack of tradition of systematically collecting sub-
jective data, a challenge was identified about how to produce them rigorously.
Following Bauer’s proposals, subjective indicators should not only be “mea-
sures” but also other forms of evidence that enable us to assess where we stand
and are going with respect to our values and goals and to evaluate specific
programs and their impact (Bauer 1966).
More than 30 years later, exactly the same questions raised in the beginning of
the last paragraph have been reformulated. The only difference is that the word
“adults” has been substituted by “children and adolescents” (Casas 2011).
Ben-Arieh (2008) pointed out the emergence of a “child indicators movement.”
However, once again, our lack of scientific tradition is our main challenge. Do we
need specific indicators for children and adolescents? We do not know for sure
whether some indicators could be the same. Yet, from a psychological point of
view, the more wise answer should be that the kind of relevant data to be
collected may change with age. The fact is that national and international
systems of statistics now include a large number of survey results from adults,
but almost no data is collected systematically from children or adolescents in
most countries.
In the international arena, UNICEF’s study coordinated by Adamson (2007)
marked an important step toward the articulation of objective and subjective
indicators for understanding children’s living situations in different countries.
The study dealt with five major domains for children’s well-being, namely,
material well-being, health and safety, educational well-being, young people’s
relationships, behaviors and risks, and SWB. However, that pioneer study faced
several limitations: (a) Only very few international databases exist with data
provided by children themselves – for example, Health Behavior in School-aged
Children (HBSC) (www.hbsc.org) and Program for International Student Assess-
ment (PISA) (www.oecd.org/pisa). (b) Data in these databases include a limited
number of countries, mostly developed countries. And, (c) the only psychometric
scale included in international databases is the single-item scale named the
“Cantril’s Ladder” (Cantril 1965). Using only a single-item scale for interna-
tional comparison is too weak a solution when dealing with a young and contro-
versial field of measuring as SWB still is at present. Additionally, it is doubtful
that “SWB” should be considered a separate domain in life, rather than including
a subjective view in any domain. The number of available multi-item scales to
evaluate children’s and adolescents’ SWB in general (nonclinical) populations is
still limited. Much more testing must still be developed between countries,
cultures, and languages (Casas et al. 2012c). Scientific research on the psycho-
social components of QOL during the 1960s and 1970s soon led from macro-
social studies to micro-social studies of subjective or personal well-being. We
were no longer interested only in the general well-being of populations. We also
wanted to understand in more detail and with more precision the individual
functioning that leads to people giving a positive evaluation of their own per-
sonal well-being. This made it even clearer that QOL research – and therefore
well-being research – required not only an interdisciplinary approach but also
a more micro-focused, even experimental research. Currently, we are still trying
to understand the connections between SWB at a macro- and a micro-level. In
psychology there is a long tradition of studying children’s and adolescents’ well-
being at the micro-level. However – like in most human and social sciences – our
major research has been focused on the negative aspects of well-being. Only very
recently have we also been interested in the positive aspects and started to collect
self-reported “positive” data from children and adolescents. We have long
traditions collecting data from children for individual understanding. However,
a feeling of “social and political relevance” of such data has often been missing.
When we have asked children and adolescents for their own perceptions and
evaluations very often, the data have not been as expected. Sometimes, we have
doubted the reliability of the data. Sometimes we have doubted the reliability of
the informants. The only evidence being that as researchers we did not have
previous experience in asking the children (Casas 2011).
In the adult realm, it was assumed that social indicators could be “subjective”
data or data obtained through subjective methods such as questionnaires, inter-
views, and discussion groups. This led to a debate over the epistemological
“objectivity” versus “subjectivity” of the social phenomena being measured.
Does “citizen dissatisfaction” with a service exist in the objective sense? If subjec-
tive measurement techniques indicate consistent dissatisfaction over time, may we
then conclude that majority dissatisfaction “truly exists” and that it may have “real”
and “objective” consequences? This debate recalled the famous quote that when
people “define situations as real, they are real in their consequences,” including
social and political consequences (Thomas and Thomas 1928, p. 572).
Although such considerations are also valid when referring to the youngest
generations, the obvious political interest in collecting subjective data from chil-
dren has been slow to develop. Child well-being was initially conceived at both the
national and international level as “what follows from objective realities” such as
rates of mortality, malnutrition, immunization, and disease. Nobody has denied the
high usefulness of these data. What is surprising is that while “subjective adult
satisfaction” with services and life conditions has become a very important policy
issue, the satisfaction of children and adolescents continues to be treated as irrel-
evant. Too often, in the social and human sciences, the low reliability and validity
of data obtained from children and adolescents are used as excuses to avoid
collecting such data. Curiously, only advertisers and marketing experts appear to
be interested in this population and to have “overcome” difficulties concerning
validity and reliability (Casas et al. 2012b).
In addressing child well-being and QOL, we must not forget that by definition,
QOL includes the perceptions, evaluations, and aspirations of everyone
involved. We know that different social agents may perceive the same reality
differently. This does not mean that some of them are right and all the others are
572 A. Holte et al.
wrong. Social realities are often comprised by different perceptions and evalu-
ations of sets of various social agents, where all social agents are relevant for
understanding the social dynamics involved. We cannot go on trying to explain
social realities involving children based solely on our adult perspectives. Per-
spectives of children and adolescents are essential to understand their social
worlds. In other words, we must not confuse child well-being with adult opinions
of child well-being (for details, see Sect. 20.3.5). Both are important, but they are
not the same, and both are a part of the complex social reality we call child well-
being. Therefore, we face the challenge of filling the large gap of information
concerning the younger population’s point of view of the social reality that
affects humanity. Only in the last few decades have scientists become interested
in studying child and adolescent well-being from the subjects’ own perspective.
Until very recently, it was assumed that adult evaluations on children’s well-
being would be valid enough.
A very recent international interdisciplinary initiative is trying to develop child-
centered specific subjective indicators. Here they have proposed a new data col-
lection in as many countries as possible using a questionnaire which explores
children’s activities, perceptions, and satisfactions with regard to their everyday
life. A range of life domains and children’s opinions on different topics affecting
them is considered by means of three psychometric scales (International Survey of
Children’s Well-Being (ISWeB) (http://childrensworlds.org/). Questions to chil-
dren have been grouped in 10 sections, including yourself, your home and the
people you live with, money and things you have, your friends and other people, the
area where you live, the school, how you spend your time, more about you, how you
feel about yourself, and your life and your future. In each section, there may be
questions on definition of each child’s situation, on agreement/disagreement, on
frequency, and on satisfaction. Satisfaction items can be grouped into eight life
domains, in such a way that an index of each domain can be calculated, including
household, material belongings, interpersonal relations, area of living, health,
organization of time, school, and personal evaluations (feelings and beliefs).
Three adapted versions of existing psychometric scales have been used in this
project. These are the Students’ Life Satisfaction Scale (SLSS) (Huebner 1991b),
the Brief Multidimensional Students’ Life Satisfaction Scale (BMSLSS) (Seligson
et al. 2003), and the Personal Well-Being Index (PWI) (Cummins et al. 2003).
A first publication of results using a slightly modified version of this questionnaire
and proposing an overall index on children’s SWB has been conducted by
UNICEF-Spain: http://www.unicef.es/actualidad-documentacion/publicaciones/
calidad-de-vida-y-bienestar-infantil-subjetivo-en-espana
Researchers need to develop much more research instruments and projects with
“children’s advice” in order to be able to really capture what is relevant in
children’s life and for children’s well-being from their own perspective (Casas
et al. 2012b). Multi-method research, including qualitative data collection from
children, is necessary to better understand children’s answer to our “adult” ques-
tionnaires, based on our worries and aspirations.
20.3.3 Measurement of Well-Being in Children and Adolescents:

Ferran Casas and Bente Wold
In the recent years, at least three major child and adolescent personal well-being
literature reviews have been published. One focused mostly on QOL, another on
well-being, and a third on satisfaction (Andelman et al. 1999; Huebner 2004;
Pollard and Lee 2003). These three concepts, although considered different by
some authors, are very often used as interchangeable without defining them. In
the tradition of social sciences, QOL is usually considered the broadest concept,
while satisfaction is related to the cognitive aspects of SWB (see also Sect. 20.2.3).
In health sciences, it has often been considered differently, although at present the
most used concept is health-related quality of life (HRQOL) (for details, see
Sect. 20.3.6).
These reviews show that most studies on child and adolescent well-being and
QOL in the English-language literature have been focused on very specific, small
populations, such as children with particular health problems. The reviews also
show that in health sciences there are a great variety of quite specific instruments to
assess “well-being” as an output of very concrete interventions among particular
clinical populations, for example, children with cancer or with transplanted organs.
In contrast, the social sciences are more devoted to investigating nonclinical
populations, with larger samples, although the number of such studies is not large.
A number of psychometric scales have been used among regular populations of
children and adolescents from the hedonic perspectives. However, up till now, there
has not been a single eudaimonic scale available to study age groups under 16. Yet,
a limited number of studies exploring different eudaimonic aspects of life have
been undertaken. For example, one study addresses the relationship between future
aspirations and SWB (Casas et al. 2007). Another study investigates associations
between religion/spirituality and SWB (Casas et al. 2009). In different European
countries, children were asked “Imagine that you are 21 years old. At that time, how
much would you like people to appreciate the following aspects of you?” Unex-
pectedly, the most frequent answers chosen among lists of 16–26 qualities were
niceness or kindness. In addition, it has been shown that in some countries, using
religion and spirituality as the same life domain – as in the PWI – may be very
confusing to adolescents, who consider these issues as very different.
Asking children directly about their perceptions, opinions, and evaluations of
aspects and conditions of their life has produced surprising results. This has forced
us to think critically about adult-held stereotypes and beliefs that for no good reason
may generate bias among researchers and affect scientific understanding. A highly
unsettling example is the history of child witness testimony studies. For more than
two decades, researchers were interested only in cases in which children’s testi-
mony was flawed. It was not until the 1980s that studies began to think from the
point of view of the child. Then researchers were able to show that if children
received an appropriate amount of support allowing them to feel comfortable, they
could in fact be valid witnesses (Garbarino and Stott 1989).
574 A. Holte et al.
95
90
Subjective Well-being 85
80
75 Romania
Brasil
70 Spain
Chile
65
12 13 14 15 16
Age
Fig. 20.1 Change in SWB across age. Standardized mean across measures in each country, not
weighted for different n; Brazil (age 12–16 years, N ¼ 1 588; scales BMSLSS5it, Fordyce, HOL,
OLS, PW17gr, and SWLS), Chile (age 14–16 years, N ¼ 853; scales BMSLSS5it, Fordyce, HOL,
OLS, PW17gr, and SWLS), Spain (age 12–16 years, N ¼ 2 900; scales BMSLSS5it, Fordyce,
HOL, OLS, PW17gr, PWIndex, and SWLS), and Romania (age 13–16 years, N ¼ 930; scales OLS
and PWIndex). Argentina not included because of low n. For full name and references to measure,
see text
Another example is the “discovery” of the decreasing life satisfaction from the
age of 12 to the age of 16. In the scientific literature throughout the 1980s and
1990s, it was assumed that life satisfaction remains fairly stable throughout life,
except for individuals with significant traumatic experiences. However, Petito and
Cummins (2000) demonstrated that well-being decreased with age in an Australian
sample of 12–17 years old. Later on, it was reported that in different samples of
12–16 years old from Catalonia, Spain (2003, N ¼ 2,715; 2005, N ¼ 5,140; 2007,
N ¼ 1,392; 2008, N ¼ 2,841), using the PWI (Cummins et al. 2003), a decrease of
overall life satisfaction with age was also observed (Casas 2011). More recently,
SWB was assessed among adolescents using a range of six different instruments in
Argentina, Brazil, Chile, and Spain. The aforementioned decreasing tendency was
observed with all the instruments in all four different countries (Casas et al. 2012c).
In the meantime, similar results have been reported also from Romania (Bălţătescu
2006), another Australian sample (Tomyn and Cummins 2011) (Fig. 20.1).
Recent findings from a large European study have identified similar trends
(Currie et al. 2012). In the 2009/2010 survey of the Health Behavior in School-
aged Children study (the HBSC study), satisfaction with life was measured in
representative samples of 11-, 13-, and 15-year-olds from 39 countries. Life satis-
faction was measured by the 11 steps of the “Cantril’s Ladder.” The top of the ladder
indicates the best possible life and the bottom the worst. Respondents were asked to
indicate the step of the ladder at which they would place their lives at present (from
“0” to “10”). High life satisfaction was defined as reporting a score of “6” or more.
More than 80 % of 11-year-olds reported high life satisfaction in all countries except
Romania and Turkey. In 13 countries – including the Nordic countries and UK

except Wales – more than 90 % of the children responded 6 or higher on the ladder.
The proportion of children who reported high life satisfaction was highest in the
Netherlands and lowest in Eastern European countries – 97 % among 13-year-old
Dutch boys compared to 68 % of Turkish boys. As in Argentina, Brazil, Chile,
Spain, and Romania, prevalence of high life satisfaction significantly declined
between ages 11 and 15 in almost all countries and regions for girls and in some
for boys. Boys reported a significantly higher prevalence in most countries and
regions at age 15 but in fewer than half at 13. There was less evidence of a significant
gender difference at age 11. Gender differences were not large at any age and only
exceeded 10 % in a few countries and regions at age 15. Affluence was significantly
positively associated with high life satisfaction in nearly all countries and regions for
boys and girls (for more on cross-cultural comparisons, see Sect. 20.4.1).
How come that these strong tendencies have not been detected earlier? One
explanation may be that during the past century, most authors were using four- or
five-point scales to assess SWB, life satisfaction, or happiness. Because of the non-
normal distribution of the answers and the tendency in most populations to answer
toward the positive end, the so-called optimistic bias (for details, see Sect. 20.4.4),
such scales are not sensitive enough to catch differences in subgroups of the
population. When researchers started to use eleven-point scales as recommended
by Cummins and Gullone (2000), the age differences became visible, and the
decreasing-with-age tendency became more and more obvious.
Taken together, these results pose a new question. Why is early adolescence
a period of decreasing SWB – including overall life satisfaction – in so many
countries? In addition, recent studies have cast doubt on the delicate assumption
that parents transfer personal well-being to their children. In a sample of 12–16-
year-old Catalan children and their parents, no significant correlations between
parents and their children were found on global life satisfaction and in most life
domains. The only exceptions were satisfaction with health and satisfaction with
future security (Casas et al. 2008). Later on, with a much larger sample and more
sophisticated data analyses, similar results were found by Casas, Coenders, and
colleagues (Casas et al. 2011a), although interesting differences between parents of
a boy and parents of a girls appeared (for further discussion, see Sect. 20.4.7).
20.3.4 Instruments: Ferran Casas
Researchers have developed a number of scales for assessing well-being, which

are specific for children or adolescents. Some examples are Perceived Life
Satisfaction Scale (PLSS) (Adelman et al. 1989), Students’ Life Satisfaction
Scale (SLSS) (Huebner 1991b), Multidimensional Students’ Life Satisfaction
Scales (MSLSS) (Huebner 1994), Quality of Life Profile – Adolescent Version
(QOLP-Q) (Raphael et al. 1996), Comprehensive Quality of Life Scale – Students
Version (Com-QOL Students) (Cummins 1997; Gullone and Cummins 1999),
and Brief Multidimensional Students’ Life Satisfaction Scale (BMSLSS)
576 A. Holte et al.
(Seligson et al. 2003). Some studies have also taken general scales developed for
the whole (adult) population and successfully used them on adolescent samples,
including Satisfaction with Life Scale (SWLS) (Diener et al. 1985a), Personal
Well-Being Index (PWI) (Cummins et al. 2003), and Fordyce’s Happiness Scale
(FHS) (Fordyce 1988). The most frequently used scale with adolescents in the
psychological scientific literature up till now is probably the single item on
overall life satisfaction (OLS), which can be found with different wordings. The
most frequently used multi-item scales with adolescents seem to be the SLSS,
BMSLSS, PWI, and SWLS. By content, they seem like quite different scales.
However, when used together, they tend to correlate rather strongly, usually
between 0.50 and 0.65.
The OLS, SWLS (5 items), and SLSS (7 items) are context-free scales, while the
MSLSS, BMSLSS, and PWI are based on the assumption that SWB or life
satisfaction is composed by different life domains. The BMSLSS and the PWI
seem to have fewer psychometric limitations when used with adolescents in
international comparisons.
The SWLS was originally created to be used with adults and SLSS specifically
for children and adolescents at 8 years old and on. The psychometric properties of
the SWLS have been published in various articles. See, for example, Pavot and
Diener (1993). The originally reported Cronbach a was 0.87 (Diener et al. 1985b).
In the original testing, a single component accounted for 66 % of the variance.
The SLSS was designed by Huebner (1991b) as a seven-item context-free one-
dimensional scale. Up until 1994, it was tested on small samples of children 10–13
years old (N ¼ 79) (Huebner 1991a) and 7–14 years old (N ¼ 254) (Huebner 1991b)
in the USA using a four-point frequency scale (from never to almost always).
Reported Cronbach’s alphas ranged from 0.73 (Terry and Huebner 1995) to 0.82
(Huebner 1991b; Huebner et al. 2003). In Fogle, Huebner, and Laughlin (2002), the
scale is reported as a six-point scale from strongly agree to strongly disagree, and
Cronbach’s alpha is reported at 0.86 (N ¼ 160, 10–15 years old). Gilman and
Huebner (2000) suggested caution with respect to assuming the comparability of
scores across the two formats.
PWI includes items on satisfaction with seven overall abstract life domains.
These are health, standard of living, achievements in life, personal safety, commu-
nity, security for the future, and relationships with other people. It has an eighth
optional item which does not function in all countries, namely, satisfaction with
spirituality or religion. These life domains need rewording or even reformulation in
some countries. For example, in Spanish samples, satisfaction with community was
not understood by most adolescents and had to be substituted by satisfaction with
groups of people you belong to. The psychometric properties of the PWI have been
reported in Lau, Cummins, and McPherson (2005) and in International Wellbeing
Group (2006). Cronbach’s a was originally reported to lie between 0.7 and 0.8. The
seven original domains form a single component which predicts over 50 % of the
variance for “satisfaction with life as a whole” with adult samples (Cummins et al.
2003). A School Children (PWI-SC), Preschool Children (PWI-PC), and Intellec-
tual and Cognitive Disability (PWI-ID) versions are available in the Australian
Centre on Quality of Life Web page (http://www.deakin.edu.au/research/acqol/

auwbi/index-translations/wbi-school-english.pdf), which have been tested in Aus-
tralian and Chinese samples.
In contrast, BMSLSS is composed of five very concrete life satisfaction
domains. These are family, friends, school, oneself, and the place you live in.
Why such concrete items usually correlate strongly with the more abstract items
in the PWI and how the two kinds of items may be included in a common model are
still unresolved questions. The psychometric properties of this scale have been
published in different articles. A 0.68 Cronbach’s a was originally reported
(Seligson et al. 2003).
The fact that most scales used with adolescents show a lower explained variance
than the equivalent one with adults has raised a debate on what may be missing in the
scales administered to adolescents. Currently, psychological literature is rich in
publications that propose to include new life domains to the existing domain-based
scales. For example, school satisfaction (Tomyn and Cummins 2011) and time use
(Casas et al. 2011b) have been proposed to be included in the PWI. These scales have
until now only been used with adolescents in a very limited number of countries. Yet,
an increasing international testing has been observed during the recent years. The
results obtained with these psychometric scales are promising and may lead to the
development of well-grounded subjective indicators at the population level in coun-
tries that have versions adapted to their language and culture. Since most scales show
a lower explained variance when used with adolescents than with adults, continue by
discussing whether we should trust parents’ reports about their children’s well-being
more than the children’s own reports.
20.3.5 Can We Trust in Parents’ Report About Their Children’s

Well-Being?: Thomas Jozefiak
Because of the substantial discrepancy between child and parent reports on chil-
dren’s well-being and QOL (Upton et al. 2008), a debate goes on in the literature
about who is the most appropriate informant (Chang and Yeh 2005; Eiser and
Morse 2001; Ellert et al. 2011). According to the World Health Organization, the
concept of QOL is by definition based on the individual’s own subjective perspec-
tives. However, younger children’s QOL report can be biased by several factors,
among others their limited cognitive capacities and life experience (Spieth 2001).
Therefore, for children up to ages 8–10 years, their parents are often asked to
evaluate their children’s well-being and QOL. Many studies of QOL in adolescents
have also used only parent reports. Thus, it is very important to know how well we
can trust in such “proxy” reports.
In the general population, research comparing child and parent proxy reports
showed that parents evaluated their child’s well-being and QOL as better than did
the children themselves on most life domains (Ellert et al. 2011; Jozefiak et al.
2008; Upton et al. 2008). Further, parents in the general population reported only
few changes related to one domain (school) of their children’s well-being and QOL
578 A. Holte et al.
over a 6-month period, while the children reported changes in many life domains
such as family, emotional well-being, self-esteem, and school (Jozefiak et al. 2009).
Parents’ own well-being has also been shown to be very weakly related to their
children’s well-being (Casas et al. 2012a), and relationships between parents’ and
children’s values are highly culture specific (Coenders et al. 2005).
In contrast to general population research, discrepancies between child and
parent reports are not so obvious in clinical population studies. Generally, it has
been shown that the strongest correlate of referral to child mental health care is
the impact of child symptoms on parents (Angold et al. 1998). Furthermore,
parents of children with attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder (ADHD)
reported lower adult QOL than parents of healthy children (Schilling et al.
2006). That is, child problems appear to have an impact on parents and could
bias the parent proxy report of child well-being and QOL. For example, mothers
of children referred to child psychiatry evaluated their children’s QOL as poorer
than the children themselves reported (Jozefiak 2004). Also, parents’ own prob-
lems can influence parents’ proxy reports. Maternal depression was a significant
predictor of total “proxy” QOL report, accounting for 12 % of the variance
(Davis et al. 2008). These examples show that parents in clinical populations
may underestimate their child’s “real” QOL. In somatic clinical populations, for
example, obese children, these discrepancies may have different directions
depending on the life domain being investigated (Hughes et al. 2007). There
might be several interpretations of these findings, that is, the quality and psy-
chometric properties of available parent–child measures and known and yet
unknown factors affecting parent–child agreement levels and their direction
(Upton et al. 2008). However, there is enough evidence indicating that parent
proxy reports of child well-being and QOL are as biased as younger children’s
self-reports but of course by different factors than in the child. Therefore, there is
good reason to distrust parent’s report about their children’s well-being.
However, despite these disadvantages of parents’ reports, they obviously also
have advantages, at least in the assessment of well-being and QOL in
younger children. Parents have more developed evaluation capacities (consequence
thinking, better sense of time – past and future, etc.), while children perceive and
evaluate the quality of their lives more in the present moment. This becomes
obvious especially in children with neuropsychiatric problems such as ADHD but
also applies to the younger child without mental health problems.
What should we do in regard to the discrepancy between child and parent
reports, if there is no “objective” gold standard? Instead of discussing who is the
most appropriate informant about children’s well-being, it would be wiser to accept
both advantages and disadvantages of both child and parent reports and consider
them as valuable different perspectives, at least with regard to younger or severely
ill children. By the definition of QOL, the child report should be considered as the
prime authentic report whenever it can be obtained, and parent proxy report could
represent important supplemental information about children’s well-being and
QOL. However, if the child’s report cannot be obtained, maybe we could use the
child’s health as a proxy for child well-being?
20.3.6 Health-Related Quality of Life: Can Health Complaints be

Used to Indicate Well-Being?: Arne Holte
In epidemiological and clinical health research, symptom scales are among the most
frequently used instruments to assess and monitor children’s and adolescents’ well-
being. Several psychometrically sound scales and checklists are available, including
the Strength and Difficulties Questionnaire (SDQ) (Goodman and Goodman 2009)
and the Child Behavior Checklist (CBCL) (Achenbach 1991). Such symptom scales
may tell us a lot about children’s symptom profiles. Unfortunately, however, they
tell us little about children’s SWB or life satisfaction (LS). This is illustrated by
a study of a representative sample of Norwegian 11–16-year-olds in 2009/2010 (part
of the HBSC study; see Currie et al. 2012) – the correlation between an eight-item
checklist of subjective health complaints (the HBSC symptom checklist; see
Haugland and Wold 2001) and life satisfaction (measured by the 11-step Cantril’s
Ladder; see Sects. 20.3.1–20.3.2) ranged from 0.39 among 11-year-old boys to 0.53
among 15-year-old girls. In the same study, subjective health as measured by
a generic question was even more weakly related to life satisfaction (correlations
ranging from 0.22 among 11-year-old girls to 0.36 among 13-year-old boys).
Strong self-reported health may occur together with low well-being. Weak self-
reported health may occur together with high well-being (Fig. 20.2). Although to
some extent correlated, health and well-being, therefore, have to be differentiated
conceptually and measured separately and independently. Obviously, if we would
wish to assess the degree to which the two influence each other, anything else would
also be tautological.
Yet, within the field of health, the most frequent way of defining well-being is in
terms of health-related quality of life (HRQOL). Modeled on the WHO definition of
health from 1947, the construction of HRQOL instruments was guided by
a consensus statement from an International Board of Advisors (Goodman and
Goodman 2009). According to this, four fundamental dimensions are essential to
any measure of HRQOL, namely, physical, mental/psychological, and social
health, as well as global perceptions of function and well-being. In addition, pain,
energy/vitality, sleep, appetite, and symptoms relevant to the intervention and
natural history of the disease or condition were listed as important domains but
left to the individual investigator to include or exclude.
The PRO Harmonization Group (Achenbach 1991) defined HRQOL as “the
patients’ evaluation of the impact of a health condition and its treatment on daily
life.” Patients’ evaluation implies that the patient is the preferred respondent to
HRQOL questionnaires. Impact on daily life indicates that the domains assessed are
relevant to the patient and that the assessment goes beyond a mere counting of
events. The notion of multidimensionality is a key component of definition for
HRQOL and means that a single domain cannot be considered as a HRQOL
measure, even though it is a patient-reported outcome.
HRQOL scales may be generic or specific. The most frequently used generic
scale is the SF-36 (Berzon et al. 1993). SF-36 is constructed to be used in a variety
of patient groups and has also been used with adolescents. SF-36 consists of eight
580 A. Holte et al.
Fig. 20.2 Although to some Low self-reported High self-reported

extent correlated, health impairment health impairment
self-reported health and
self-reported well-being must Low self-reported High self-reported
be conceptually differentiated High well-being health impairment health impairment
and measured separately and High well-being High well-being
independently
Low well-being Low self-reported High self-reported

health impairment health impairment
Low well-being Low well-being
subscales: physical functioning, physical role limitations, body pain, vitality,

social functioning, emotional role limitations, mental health, and general health
perception. The TNO-AZL Child Quality of Life Questionnaire (TACQOL) is an
example of a generic HRQOL instrument designed specifically for children aged
8–15 years. It assesses the occurrence of functional problems, including negative
emotional reactions. Here HRQOL is operationalized by seven dimensions – pain
and physical symptoms, motor functioning, autonomy, cognitive
functioning, social functioning, global positive emotional functioning, and global
negative emotional functioning – each assessed by an eight-item scale (Vogels
et al. 2000).
The broad cover of generic scales may weaken their sensitivity to specific
changes. For example, an intervention which reduces symptoms specific to
a certain illness (e.g., asthmatic breathing difficulties) may not be picked up
adequately by the SF-36 or the TACQOL.
Condition-specific HRQOL scales have therefore been developed. These scales
usually include items addressing specific symptom clusters, body parts, or biolog-
ical systems (e.g., congenital heart disease). The relevance of items included in
such instruments may often be clinically defined and not reflect a causal relation-
ship with the underlying biological system in question. For instance, may symptom
scales for congenital heart disease in children contain questions about anxiousness,
even though there is no evidence that anxiousness is biologically associated with
congenital heart disease.
HRQOL is most often limited to patient-reported health complaints,
operationalized as scores on a symptom scale combined with self-assessment of
associated functional impairments. Interpreted this way, an excellent level of
HRQOL is indicated simply by absence of self-reported health complaints which
are expected to occur more frequently in association with a specific clinical condition.
Excellent HRQOL should therefore be considered conceptually different from excel-
lent, positive physical and mental health and does not imply high well-being.
Within the fields of psychology and social sciences, well-being is normally
defined independently from self-reported health complaints. As mentioned in
Sect. 20.2.3, affective well-being (AWB) and cognitive well-being (CWB) (e.g.,
satisfaction with life) may be regarded as distinct constructs (Acquadro et al. 2003).
These distinct constructs may differ both in their stability and variability across
time (Ware and Sherbourne 1992) and in their relations with other variables (Eid
and Diener 2004; Lucas et al. 1996; Schimmack et al. 2008). Among adults, specific
life events such as marriage, divorce, bereavement, childbirth, unemployment,
reemployment, retirement, and relocation/migration have differential effects on
the affective and the cognitive components of well-being. In addition, adaptation
of AWB and CWB to such life events does not occur at the same rate (Wiest et al.
2011).
Although both HRQOL and well-being rely on self-report, HRQOL cannot substi-
tute either SWB or LS. Normally, perceived health defeats well-being only if onset of
the health condition is sudden and/or intense. Otherwise, among adults, as compared
to major life events such as marriage, divorce, bereavement, childbirth, unemploy-
ment, reemployment, retirement, and relocation/migration, health has only a modest
impact on well-being. Data from 11 Canadian surveys illustrates this point. The
surveys included between them 16 items of satisfaction representing a dozen specific
life domains, for example, job satisfaction, family relations, and health. These items
were used to predict happiness. Various combinations of the items were included in
different surveys, but all the surveys included satisfaction with health.
For the 11 samples, multiple regression analyses explained on average 38 % of
the variance in reported happiness from some subset of the predictor variables. The
top four predictors of happiness were self-esteem, satisfaction with partner, satis-
faction with friendship, and financial security. Satisfaction with health was never
the strongest predictor. Its maximum beta value was 0.18. In 5 of the 11 surveys, the
contribution of satisfaction with health was too low to enter into the regression
equation (Luhmann et al. 2011).
The same review also considered studies revealing the importance of people’s
self-reported health to their overall happiness. In these studies, self-reported
health was measured primarily by the eight dimensions of SF-36. When
a variety of additional potential predictors were entered into the regression
equation, 44 % of the variance in happiness scores was explained. However,
only one of the eight dimensions of SF-36 remained, namely, mental health.
The latter accounted for a mere 4 % points out of the total 44. That is, self-
reported health had relatively little to contribute to respondents’ reported happi-
ness, and its measured contribution was significantly affected by the number and
kinds of potential predictors employed (Luhmann et al. 2011). Unfortunately, we
do not have corresponding studies on children and adolescents. But if we were to
hypothesize, health would be even less important in determining well-being in
childhood than in adulthood – as long as it is above a certain level and the social
inequality in health is not too big.
As pointed out by one reviewer, no matter whether the pathology is subjective
(e.g., perceived stress) or objective (e.g., degree of physical disability), pathology
does not have a simple linear relationship to well-being (Luhmann et al. 2012).
What we need now are population-based studies where measures of well-being are
linked to measures of children’s and adolescents’ health to see whether the findings
from adults can be generalized into children and adolescents.
582 A. Holte et al.
20.4 Mechanisms and Explanations
20.4.1 Subjective Well-Being in Children and Adolescents from

a Cross-Cultural Perspective: Gisela Trommsdorff
Research on SWB has mostly focused on university students and adults in West-
ernized countries. Beyond the question whether SWB findings generalize across
cultures (Diener 2012), the question is whether findings generalize across develop-
mental ages. The majority of children and adolescents worldwide live in difficult
developmental contexts, experiencing survival needs, health problems, and insuf-
ficient schooling – potential risk factors for SWB. However, children’s SWB has
mostly been studied in “wealthy” Westernized countries (UNICEF 2007), thus
restricting generalizations. Therefore, we take a culture-informed and developmen-
tal psychological perspective on children’s and adolescents’ SWB.
Methodological and theoretical shortcomings limit the cross-cultural compara-
bility of SWB. Different conceptualizations relate to the structure (Ryff and Keyes
1995), to the contents, and to the various types of SWB. Usually, self-reports are
used (Diener et al. in press) even though their validity for different cultural and age
groups is unclear (Heine et al. 2002). Moreover, cultural conceptions of SWB are
ignored (Lu and Gilmour 2004; Suh et al. 1998; Uchida et al. 2004). Longitudinal,
experimental, and multilevel studies including representative samples are rare, and
a theoretical framework is often missing.
Our integrative theoretical approach conceives of culture (including a nation’s
values and socioeconomic, political, and ecological characteristics) as structuring the
socialization contexts (family, peers, school) of children’s development
(Trommsdorff 2007, 2012). This approach borrows from the ecological model of
development (Bronfenbrenner 1979), the concept of the developmental niche (Super
and Harkness 1993), and the cultural model of independence and interdependence
(Markus and Kitayama 1991). We advocate a culture – and developmental psycho-
logical perspective to study preconditions and consequences of SWB, assuming that
SWB is related to needs, motivation, and resources.
Children’s SWB depends partly on how the respective nation socializes its
children. At the nation level (WVS), most of the pertinent dimensions of sociali-
zation goals for children were correlated with SWB (Bond and Lun 2012). This is in
line with large-scale representative studies on the associations among cultural
values, children’s socialization, and SWB (Kasser 2011; Schwartz 2012).
Warm and responsive caretaking in early childhood, warm caretaker–child
relationships, and a harmonious family environment build resilience, buffering
against stress and risk factors (Masten and Shaffer 2006; Richter 2010) and shaping
life outcomes, including SWB (see also Sects. 20.4.6–20.4.7). Family cohesion was
associated with better SWB in Italy and the UK (Manzi et al. 2006). In
a longitudinal study, Chinese adolescents’ SWB was poorer in non-intact compared
to intact families (Shek 2008).
Adolescents favoring the family model of emotional interdependence (vs. inde-
pendence) had the highest SWB across 10 countries (Value of Children (VOC) Study)
(Mayer and Trommsdorff 2012, July). Satisfaction with peers was highest in cultures
with a modal-independent model.
Parent–child value similarities indicating positive parent–child relationships
were related to higher SWB of Russian minority adolescents in Germany and Israel
(Hadjar et al. 2012). However, the similarities were stronger for children from
majority versus minority families.
According to universalistic claims of attachment theory, sensitive, warm, and
supportive caretaking fosters the development of a secure attachment, thus shaping
positive beliefs about the self and the world and fostering positive developmental
outcomes including dynamic resilience (which depends on interactions between
genes and developmental experience; Cicchetti and Rogosch 2012) (for details,
see Sects. 20.2.5 and 20.4.3). However, cross-cultural studies on relations between
attachment style and SWB in children and adolescents are lacking.
Rothbaum, Weisz, Pott, Miyake, and Morelli’s (2000) discussion on the culture-
specific function of sensitivity and attachment has partially been tested in cross-
cultural comparisons of caretakers’ implicit theories showing cultural differences in
how caregivers foster appropriate development and well-being in children taking
into account bilateral relations (Trommsdorff et al. 2012; Trommsdorff and
Kornadt 2003; Ziehm et al. 2012).
Supportive interactions with peers can increase social competence and respec-
tive SWB, while exclusion and aggression may be a risk factor. No difference was
found between Chinese and US American adolescents for the relation between peer
acceptance and SWB (Greenberger et al. 2000). However, the strength of the
overall positive association between peer acceptance and SWB on the individual
level indicated cultural differences in the relative importance of peer acceptance for
SWB (Schwarz et al. 2012). Cultural differences in the role of parents and peers for
SWB were related to the importance of respective family values of interdependence
versus independence. Peers were less influential for SWB when family importance
was fostered by interdependent values. The higher the family values, the weaker
were the positive associations of peer acceptance and SWB in the respective
cultures. In line with Diener, Suh, Lucas, and Smith (1999), the quality of social
relationships with parents and peers is important for SWB cross-culturally. How-
ever, Schwarz and colleagues (2012) also showed that strong traditional family
values at the cultural level were related to higher SWB of adolescents, contradicting
previous findings of higher SWB in individualistic versus collectivistic cultures
(Suh and Koo 2008). More specific indicators of culture and SWB are needed to
further delineate the role that peer relationships play in adolescents’ SWB and vice
versa (see also Sect. 20.4.9).
Cultural beliefs and religiosity are related to adolescents’ SWB (Proctor et al.
2009). However, the direction and process of these relations are not clear
(Trommsdorff 2012). In their VOC data-based cross-cultural study on religiosity
and adolescents’ SWB, Sabatier, Mayer, Friedlmeier, Lubiewska, and
Trommsdorff (2011) showed that family values, especially interdependence, medi-
ated the positive effects of religiosity on SWB and optimism both within and across
cultures. Positive parent–child relationships were also associated with optimism
584 A. Holte et al.
and SWB. Religiosity influencing adolescents’ family orientation was positively

related to higher SWB.
A cross-nation study (WVS) showed that religious values and practices
predicted adolescents’ SWB (Bond et al. 2012). Adolescents’ traditionalism
(vs. secularism) was positively associated to their SWB, indicating adolescents’
need for a structured worldview. A positive effect of social–religious engagement
on SWB was moderated by societal religious restrictions, presumably fostered by
socially supported worldviews. This is in line with assumptions of cultural fit and
person–culture match (Fulmer et al. 2010; Higgins 2012; Oishi 2000).
Experiencing warm caretaking and social support and aligning personal goals
with cultural values foster SWB in childhood and adolescence cross-culturally.
Future cross-cultural research should clarify the different types of children’s and
adolescents’ SWB, respective socialization conditions, and effects of SWB on
further developmental outcomes.
20.4.2 An Evolutionary Perspective: Bjørn Grinde
The prospect of happiness is an attribute bestowed upon us by evolution. If we can

understand why we have the capacity to feel good or bad, we stand a better chance
at making the most of the situation. A more detailed account of the biology of
happiness can be found in Grinde (2012a, b).
The quest for improving personal well-being is a challenge throughout life; but
the early years are arguably the most important. By offering children desirable
conditions, they stand a better chance later in life as well. The evolutionary
perspective is significant as it suggests what sort of environment is relevant for
promoting positive feelings.
The original purpose of the nervous systems was to orchestrate muscle move-
ments in order to direct the organism either toward something desirable or away
from something obnoxious. Gradually, the simple systems developed into complex
brains, with a substantial increase in the processing capacity allowing for more
advanced decision-making. The basic dichotomy was retained. At one point, most
likely at the amniotic stage (the ancestors of present reptiles, birds, and mammals),
evolution introduced feelings as a strategy to evaluate options.
Feelings work on a “common currency” principle: Whatever is detrimental for
the organism (i.e., have detrimental effects on the genes) is given a negative value,
it feels bad, while whatever helps survival and procreation feels good. The resulting
“moods” are referred to as punishing and rewarding, respectively. The brain is set
up to weigh the expected outcome of various actions based on the principle of
maximizing positive feelings. We seek sweet food, and we try to avoid breaking
a leg. According to this model, well-being is a question of maximizing the sum of
positive feelings in the long run.
Evolution presumably designed mammals to be in a good mood in the absence of
negative events. A positive and confident attitude is to the advantage of the genes,
that is, it promotes survival and procreation. The notion is substantiated by
observations such as a tendency to optimism and that most people consider them-
selves happier than the midpoint on SWB scales (Lykken 2000). Eudaimonic
happiness, as opposed to hedonic, may reflect this default state of contentment in
combination with positive stimuli regarded as wholesome (e.g., friendship, empa-
thy, and a meaning of life).
The brain is designed to adapt to environmental input. Neural circuits that are
regularly activated tend to expand and gain impact. In other words, we can
“exercise” the brain, which is useful if the purpose is to improve navigational skills
but less useful if the result enhances the activity of negative emotions.
The first years of life are by far the most important when it comes to molding
the brain. Early environment is consequently of primary importance for laying the
foundations for later emotional life – and well-being. The general flexibility of
the human brain allows adults to compensate for a less than optimal childhood, but
for the average person, childhood experiences will have considerable impact
(Shonkoff 2011). We know a fair amount as to the neurological circuits that
generate positive and negative feelings, that is, the brain’s mood modules (Leknes
and Tracey 2008). As the default is positive, well-being depends primarily on
avoiding excessive activity in the negative mood modules.
Unfortunately, it is not that easy. Dire feelings, such as pain, fear, and low mood,
are there to make sure you do not harm yourself. When excessively or inappropri-
ately activated, the three may be referred to as chronic pain, anxiety, and depres-
sion, respectively. The problem is that their function implies that they are easily
triggered: For the sake of the genes, it is more important to avoid a threatening
situation than to exploit a potential benefit. You react faster and more strongly to the
sight of a snake than the sight of an apple. Consequently, negative feelings are
easily exercised. The high prevalence of anxiety and depression may reflect that the
present child environment is not optimal for the development of these modules.
Fear is a suitable example. You may lock the door and tell the child that the
house is safe, but evolution did not provide infants with that sort of perception. For
them, safety depends on the proximity of caregivers, which preferably should be
skin to skin – as can be observed in present tribal people, infants tend to sleep
together with parents and be carried during the day. Consequently, the fear function
is easily activated if the baby is put in a separate room. This discord between the
present environment and what humans are adapted to may help explain the prev-
alence of anxiety (Grinde 2005).
Presumably, there are particular neural circuits whose function is to either switch
on or switch off fear. In nature, a frightening situation will generally resolve itself
within a short time. In order to avoid that the accompanying fear obstructs other
activities, the reaction needs to stop. Inappropriate development of the fear function
(i.e., anxiety) presumably results when the on button is exercised, but not the off
button. Being put to bed in a separate room as a small child may, for example,
instigate fear without proper resolution.
According to the evolutionary perspective, the environment we would want for
children is one that does not activate the negative mood modules unnecessarily, and
if activated, there should be an appropriate endpoint. The pain module presumably
586 A. Holte et al.
functions today as it did in our ancestral environment, at least for the young. Fear
and low mood, on the other hand, cause problems because of discords – that is,
troublesome differences between the way humans are designed by evolution to live
and the present way of life. If we can describe these discords, they may be possible
to resolve.
20.4.3 Genetic Influences: Ragnhild Bang Nes
Well-being runs in families. Using both quantitative (e.g., twin studies) and
molecular genetic (e.g., linkage, genome-wide association studies) designs,
behavior geneticists have shown family resemblance in well-being to be largely
due to genes. Overall, studies on variation in well-being characteristics such as
positive emotionality (PE), optimism, resilience, and SWB show the genetic
influences to be considerable, in particular for stable, trait-like levels (Lykken
and Tellegen 1996; Nes et al. 2006), and indicate that the genetic influences are
partly shared (i.e., pleiotropy) with genetic influences on personality (e.g., extra-
version, optimism) (Weiss et al. 2008). The genetic effect that is calculated in
standard quantitative genetic studies – the heritability estimate – represents the
part of the total variation attributable to genetic differences in a specific popula-
tion at a specific point in time. The heritability of overall measures of well-being
(e.g., SWB, PE) commonly accounts for 35–50 % of the total variation – at least in
adult and adolescent samples (Bartels and Boomsma 2009; Nes et al. 2010; 2006;
Tellegen et al. 1988). One of the few studies using a child sample (12–18 years)
and a multi-informant design has estimated the heritability of trait resilience to
range between 50 % and 75 % in boys and between 41 % and 66 % in girls, with
heritability varying somewhat across raters (highest from maternal ratings)
(Waaktaar and Torgersen 2010). Genetic factors thus explain nearly half of the
variation in well-being scores, consequently leaving the genetic effect sizes
among the largest effects found in psychology overall. Remaining variation is
commonly due to the non-shared environment, indicating that environmental
influences usually contribute to make family members different rather than
similar (i.e., environmental influences operate on an individual basis rather than
more general). Most studies are conducted on adult and adolescent samples,
however, and environmental influences causing family resemblance have some-
times been found for well-being-related characteristics in children (Burt 2009).
Of note, these shared environmental effects are commonly moderate and usually
vanish with age.
Little is still known about the actual genes and the specific environmental
factors involved and even less about the complex interplay between them. This
is perhaps mainly due to the fact that well-being is multifactorial (i.e., multiple
genetic and environmental processes involved) and polygenetic (i.e., many
genes with differing effects are involved) with risk and protective factors acting
in a complex, probabilistic fashion rather than more deterministic. However,
some studies have recently explored specific genes for well-being-related
characteristics. One report suggests that the low-activity genotype (MAOA-L)

of the catabolic enzyme monoamine oxidase A (MAOA) is associated with
greater happiness in females (Chen et al. 2012). The serotonin transporter-
linked polymorphic region (5-HTTLPR) of the human serotonin transporter
gene (SLC6A4) has also been shown to be important to variation in life satis-
faction (De Neve 2011) and trait resilience (Stein et al. 2009). Additionally,
individuals with the homozygous long variant of the 5-HTTLPR have been found
to display a significant bias toward processing of positive information and
selectively avoiding negative information (Fox et al. 2009). Other genetic
variants are also likely to be important. According to Burgsdorf and
Panksepp (2006), there are at least two distinct types of positive emotional
states in the brain. One system is primarily involved in reward-seeking behavior
(appetitive behavior, wanting) and associated, at least partly, with
psychostimulants (e.g., cocaine and amphetamine). Another system involves
the opiate and GABA system and appears to be involved in the processing of
sensory pleasures (e.g., hedonic tastes, consummating, liking) (Burgdorf and
Panksepp 2006). Genetic variants impacting on these two systems are likely to
constitute important molecular foundations of positive emotional experiences.
The genetic and environmental influences are likely to transact and interplay
through development, further complicating the picture. Children may vary in their
responses to the same experiences, partly due to specific genes (gene–environment
interaction), and different family circumstances may allow for different expression
of one’s genetic potential (heritability–environment interaction). Quantitative
genetic studies have, for example, shown that adolescents’ experience of parental
positive regard and conflict moderate the genetic and environmental influences on
both positive and negative emotionality (Krueger et al. 2008). In high-conflict
families, for example, adolescents’ positive emotionality was less influenced by
genes and more influenced by the shared family environment.
The genotype may also influence exposure to environmental risk and protec-
tive factors (gene–environment correlation, rGE). Passive rGE characterizes
situations in which a child simply inherits both genes and environmental circum-
stance that reinforce each other, for example, when children of emotionally stable
parents inherit genes related to emotional stability and are responded to in an
emotionally supportive manner by their parents (i.e., double advantage). Children
are also active agents in selecting and shaping their environments (active rGE)
and in turn trigger responses to their behavior (evocative rGE) that amplify or
strengthen genetically based dispositions. Children with temperaments high in
positive emotionality actively seek situations matching their (partly genetic)
disposition (active rGE) and elicit more positive responses in parents and others
(evocative rGE).
Gene–environment interaction (GxE) refers to interaction between specific DNA
sequences and specific measured environments. A number of GxE studies have
been published in recent years, for example, showing that risk of adversity varies as
a function of genotype (Caspi et al. 2003). Relevant to GxE, Pluess and Belsky
(2012) has recently introduced the concept of vantage sensitivity which reflects the
588 A. Holte et al.
fact that some children, partly for genetic reasons, may benefit more than others
from positive experiences. As opposed to resilience, which reflects what “protec-
tive” factors engender, vantage sensitivity does not refer to the potentially protec-
tive function of the same factors in the face of adversity. By contrast, differential
susceptibility (Belsky 1997; Belsky and Pluess 2009) pertains to situations in which
given factors (e.g., specific genetic variants) that increase risk of adversity in
a negative environment will be the same as factors increasing vantage sensitivity
in positive environments (i.e., factors that make some children resilient to adversity
simultaneously make them less responsive to positive experiences). In accordance
with the differential sensitivity hypothesis, a recent meta-analysis has shown that
the DRD4 gene and other dopamine-related genes are related to greater vulnerabil-
ity to negative environments and higher vantage sensitivity in positive environ-
ments in children 10 years and younger (Bakermans-Kranenburg and van
Ijzendoorn 2011). Another recent study reported that the association between
positive parenting and youths’ positive affect varies as a function of 5-HTTLPR
genotype, and suggesting that children with short 5-HTTLPR alleles is particularly
sensitive to the benefits of positive parenting (Hankin et al. 2011). Vantage sensi-
tivity associated with the 5-HTTLPR is also indicated in other studies and is not
restricted to the parenting domain or to experiences in the childhood (Pluess and
Belsky 2012).
Research on specific genes underpinning well-being-related characteristics is
still in its infancy, and we will surely see many more studies on specific genes and
gene–environment interplay of importance to well-being and resilience in the near
future. However, when dealing with the interaction of genetics with human agency
and subjective meaning, with the relevant causal factors being innumerable, essen-
tially nonadditive, and potentially relational and bidirectional, the outcomes are
largely unpredictable.
20.4.4 The Cognition of Well-Being: Jens Thimm and Catharina

Elisabeth Arfwedson Wang
For many psychological theories, it has been a hallmark of mental health and SWB
that the individual is in touch with reality and construes events accurately and
objectively (Taylor and Brown 1988). Accordingly, an important goal of many
psychological treatments (e.g., cognitive therapy for depression, Beck et al. 1979) is
to correct cognitive distortions and help the client to think in a more balanced way
or more realistically.
However, the view that realistic thinking is common and crucial for adaptive
functioning has been challenged in recent years. A wealth of research findings has
shown that most people display a positivity bias or have “positive illusions” (Taylor
and Brown 1988). For example, it has been observed that people use positive
descriptors on average approximately 62 % of the time when they rate themselves
and others. The 62/38 ratio is also known as the golden section and is a robust
empirical finding (Cromwell 2010). Most people tend to remember events
from their life history as pleasant (Walker et al. 2003). When we see happy faces,
we are prone to think that they are directed at us (Lobmaier and Perrett 2011).
Importantly, positive illusions have been shown to be linked with psychological
well adjustment, including different aspects of mental health (Taylor and Brown
1988) and SWB (Brookings and Serratelli 2006) but also with physical health
(Taylor et al. 2000).
In their seminal paper, Taylor and Brown (1988) distinguish between three main
areas of positive illusions: overly positive views of the self, perception of personal
control, and unrealistic optimism. Unrealistic optimism involves an overly positive
view of the future. For example, many people think that they are less likely than
others to experience hazards (e.g., health problems; Weinstein 1987). Also, people
often perceive that they have control in situations that are actually determined by
chance (e.g., when trowing dice; Langer 1975). Another example of positivity bias
is the so-called self-serving attributional bias, that is, people’s tendency to attribute
positive events to oneself and negative events to other causes (Mezulis et al. 2004).
This inclination seems to be an important component of SWB, as it has been found
that the self-serving attributional bias is present but significantly attenuated in
individuals suffering from depression (Mezulis et al. 2004; Moore and Fresco
2012). This phenomenon is also known as “depressive realism” (Haaga and Beck
1995). In terms of the golden ratio model, depression involves a regression from
62 % positive view of self toward 50 % (Cromwell 2010). In a recent review of
information processing in depression, Foland-Ross and Gotlib (2012) conclude that
depression is specifically associated with difficulties in the processing of
negatively valenced information including bias in attention, interpretation, cogni-
tive control, and memory for negative material. This negativity bias has also been
found in young children who are not themselves depressed but are at high risk for
developing depression by virtue of having a depressed parent (Foland-Ross and
Gotlib 2012).
Mezulis and colleagues (2004) also examined developmental trajectories in their
meta-analysis on studies of the self-serving attributional bias. They found in their
analyses that the bias is particularly large in the youngest age group (8–11 years),
significantly weaker in adolescence (more markedly in females) and adulthood
before it increases again in late adulthood. However, at all developmental stages,
the effect size of the self-serving attributional bias is large, suggesting that this kind
of positivity bias is a stable characteristic of normal cognitive functioning across
the life-span.
More recent studies have extended the investigation of the positivity bias to
preschool children. Findings suggest that a large majority of young children
appraise their achievements as highly positive, and they also tend to favor positive
trait attributions of others (Boseovski 2010). Studies suggest a high degree of
similarity of general attributional style in children across cultures but also
domain-specific cultural differences (e.g., self-rated competence; Boseovski
2010). Children’s positivity bias is mirrored by a positive parental bias: Most
parents are optimistic about their children and perceive positive characteristics as
stable and inborn and undesired behaviors as transitory and extrinsically caused
590 A. Holte et al.
(Gretarsson and Gelfand 1988). A drawback of the parents’ positivity bias is that
they can overlook emotional problems their children might have. Results from
a recent study by Lagattuta, Sayfan, and Bamford (2012) suggest that parents tend
to underestimate worries and overestimate optimism in their children compared to
self-report.
Obviously, the positivity bias has a shadow side. For example, unrealistic
optimistic expectations may lead to individuals underestimating their vulnerability
to risk and not taking appropriate precautions (Weinstein 1987). Further, economic
crises and decisions on war have been related to positivity biases (Johnson and
Fowler 2011).
So what contributes to the development of the positivity bias and why is it so
pronounced in childhood? Evolutionary explanations emphasize its adaptive value
(for details, see Sect. 20.4.2). For example, Johnson and Fowler (2011) demon-
strated mathematically that overconfidence in one’s own capabilities is advanta-
geous in the competition for valuable resources. Bjorklund and Green (1992)
propose that for children, the benefit of unrealistic thinking is primarily motiva-
tional. There are a number of tasks that they need to learn, and unrealistic optimism
encourages them to attempt behaviors and practice skills which they wouldn’t have
tried if they had an accurate perception of their abilities.
In conclusion, the positivity bias or “positive illusions” seem to be crucial for
SWB and have probably an adaptive value because the individual is motivated to
take part in the challenges of life. On the other hand, the absence of the positivity
bias seems to be associated with depression and withdrawal from life.
20.4.5 The Happy Personality: Svenn Torgersen and Trine Waaktaar
Most of us feel happy when we wake up to a nice, bright, sunny morning, not least if
we live in northerly climes. A gray, cold, or stormy day may have the opposite
effect. But not all of us react in this way. Some are generally more in a gloomy
mood, while others are more enthusiastic and happy. Some people smile whatever
happens, while others find a snake in every paradise.
In other words, “it is in the eyes of the beholder.” Personality seems to
influence how happy you are. This is not solely what people see unless their
sight is too blurred by ideology, moral, wishful thinking, and “political correct-
ness.” Systematic studies have, namely, also demonstrated the correlations
between a number of personality traits and happiness (DeNeve and Cooper
1998). The authors of the review found that repressive defensiveness, emotional
stability, locus of control by chance (opposite), desire for control, hardiness,
private collective self-esteem, and tension (opposite) were most strongly corre-
lated to SWB, the broader concept, including happiness. They note that “repres-
sive defensiveness” is generally described as “an unconscious avoidance of
threatening information that leads to a denial of the experience of negative
emotions associated with that experience” (DeNeve and Cooper 1998, page
216). The authors also reviewed the studies in relation to the so-called Big Five
(personality traits) and found that extraversion and neuroticism (opposite),

followed by agreeableness and conscientiousness, correlated with happiness.
Already in 1980, Costa and McCrae reviewed studies suggesting that extraversion
correlated with positive affect or satisfaction, while neuroticism correlated with
negative affect or dissatisfaction. In fact, they postulated that positive affect was
part of the concept “extraversion” and negative affect part of the concept “neu-
roticism.” They could both be incorporated in the two broader personality dimen-
sions. The same authors reviewed studies investigating the relationship between
happiness and the whole realm of the Big Five or NEO Personality Inventory,
their widely used questionnaire (McCrae and Costa 1991). They confirmed that
extraversion was most strongly related to positive affect and neuroticism to
negative affect. Conscientiousness and agreeableness were somewhat more
weakly positively related to positive affect and negatively related to negative
affect. Astonishingly, openness seemed related positively to both positive and
negative affect. However, when spouses rated the Big Five, agreeableness
appeared important, while extraversion appeared less important. Therefore, it
seems as if the person himself combined extraversion and positive affect more
strongly, while partners saw more relationship between good mood and agree-
ableness and bad mood and lack of agreeableness.
As happiness is related to a number of the Big Five personality dimensions, it
is natural to look at the relationship between types based on the Big Five and
happiness or more precisely the Giant Three, namely, neuroticism, extraversion,
and conscientiousness. Torgersen (1995, 2008) created in a simple way eight
types based on these three personality dimensions. Those higher than average on
all three dimensions were called Complicated. The opposite type was called
Spectator. Those similar to the complicated, except not being neurotic, were
called Entrepreneur, the opposite type Insecure. Those similar to the Compli-
cated except not being conscientious were called Impulsive. The opposite type
was called Sceptic. Finally, those opposite to the Impulsive except not being
neurotic were called Hedonist, the opposite was called Brooder. Studies have
shown that the Entrepreneur is most happy, followed by the Sceptic, the Hedo-
nist, the Spectator, the Complicated, the Impulsive, and last the Brooder and the
Insecure (Torgersen and Vollrath 2006; Vollrath and Torgersen 2000).
Another aspect of personality is personality disorders. A study of the common
population showed that, controlling for all usual sociodemographic variables,
somatic health and axis I disorders, avoidant, borderline, paranoic, and dependent
traits were negatively associated with SWB (Cramer et al. 2007).
What about children and youth? As the personality is surprisingly stable from
childhood into adult age (Roberts and DelVecchio 2000) and personality traits
among 3-year-old children predict adjustment up into adult age (Caspi 2000), we
would expect that the same personality dimensions and traits were related to
happiness among children and youth. Very few studies have been performed.
Holder and Klassen (2010) found a relationship between social and active per-
sonality (extraversion) and happiness, and a somewhat weaker negative relation-
ship was found to emotionality (neuroticism) among 9–12-year-old children.
592 A. Holte et al.
The same thing was observed among 7–14-year-old children in Northern India,
only a weaker relationship to neuroticism (Holder et al. 2012). Unpublished data
from a study of 3,000 children and youth between the ages of 12 and 18 years in
Norway showed a strong positive relationship between SWB and stability
(negative to neuroticism). The correlation was also high to agreeableness, extra-
version, conscientiousness, and imagination (openness). The questionnaire HiPIC
was applied (Mervilde and De Fruyt 2002). A hierarchical regression analysis
showed that neuroticism (emotional stability) followed by agreeableness, extra-
version, and conscientiousness was closely behind, while imagination (openness)
disappeared in the regression analysis. When Torgersen’s types were applied,
a similar pattern was found as for adults. The Entrepreneur was most happy,
followed by the Sceptic and the Hedonist. Then came the Complicated, the
Spectator, the Brooder, the Impulsive, and finally the Insecure. However, being
the agreeable and partly the imaginable (open) variant of the type increased the
happiness, especially for the Impulsive and the Complicated. It did not particu-
larly influence the Spectator and the Insecure much. There was a tendency that
agreeableness and imagination (openness) were more strongly related to happi-
ness when parents rated the children/youth compared to self-rating. This is similar
to what was found for adults.
It is not easy to find any difference in observations between the studies of adults
and of children/youth. Perhaps there exists a small tendency in direction of agree-
ableness and openness being more important and extraversion being less important
among children/youth, as compared to adults. However, this is very tentative.
Therefore, the conclusion must be that the personality pattern behind happiness is
the same throughout life and most likely: The happy child will be the happy adult.
As Caspi (2000) states in the title of his seminal paper: “The child is the father of
the man.”
20.4.6 The Happy Family: Lucy Bowes and Mona Bekkhus
Research suggests that the family plays a central role for child well-being. Family
relationships in general and parent–child relationships in particular influence mul-
tiple domains of child well-being, including psychological, social, and economic
well-being (Sanders 1999). Overall, research suggests that secure attachment
between children and their primary caregivers promotes well-being throughout
the life-span (Bowlby 1969; Cohn et al. 1992; K. M. Love and Murdock 2004).
Family relationships aside from that of the parent–child dyad have also been shown
to promote well-being, particularly in the context of risks to well-being. For
example, sibling relationships characterized by high levels of warmth have also
been found to promote more positive emotional and behavioral functioning among
children exposed to peer victimization (Bowes et al. 2010; Cluver et al. 2010).
The structure of the family unit has been the focus of a body of research on child
well-being. Compared to individuals from intact, biological families, numerous
studies have found that children in step- and single-parent households score lower
in terms of emotional, social, physical, and psychological well-being (Amato and

Keith 1991; Magnuson and Berger 2009). The association between stepfamilies and
poor well-being has been linked to children having less secure attachment with their
parents compared to children from intact, biological families (Love and Murdock
2004).
Single parenthood has further been negatively associated with child well-being
in some studies; however, this effect may be explained by the higher prevalence
of poverty among single-parent families (Smith et al. 1997) and by reduced access
to social support. Living with a grandparent has been found to reduce the impact
of living in a single-parent family on children’s well-being (Dunifon and
Kowaleski-Jones 2002; Ruiz and Silverstein 2007). Children who experience
multiple transitions in family structure may fare particularly poorly in terms of
well-being, compared to children raised in stable, two-parent families and even
children living in single-parent families. Further investigation of the possible
mechanisms of this association revealed that much of the effect of multiple
transitions could be explained by parent’s preexisting behaviors and characteris-
tics that increased their likelihood of separating from multiple partners (Fomby
and Cherlin 2007).
Child well-being might also be influenced by the economic resources of
the family. For example, low family income has been associated with low academic
achievement, increases in socio-emotional problems, conduct problems, and teen-
age pregnancy (Dodge et al. 1994; Sampson and Laub 1987). It is thought that this
effect can be explained by the increased strain financial pressures place on
parenting (Conger et al. 1997) rather than a lack of material resources per se.
In keeping with this suggestion, the effects of childhood poverty on health
outcomes have been shown to be buffered by high maternal nurturance (Miller
et al. 2011).
Identifying the mediating mechanisms through which family factors exert their
influence on child well-being is clearly of fundamental importance. One important
factor to consider is the direction of effects between family factors and children’s
well-being (Bell and Bell 1968). Children who are more happy and positive are
likely to elicit more positive reactions from caregivers than children who are less so
(Scarr and McCartney 1983). Longitudinal studies with repeated measures are
needed to estimate the direction of effects between family factors and child well-
being. Another important consideration is the risk of genetic confounding rather
than true, environmentally mediated effects. Sensitive, warm parents may pass
genes to their offspring associated with positive well-being. Indeed, this is some-
what likely given that the heritability estimates for measures of well-being are
between 40 % and 50 % (Bartels and Boomsma 2009). That is, as much as one half
of the variance in well-being measures may be accounted for by genetic factors.
When investigating the mechanisms by which family factors may influence well-
being, it is important to test for environmental mediation. This is because interven-
tions designed to promote well-being among children are based on the assumption
that the family factors targeted are causally related to well-being, not simply a result
of confounding.
594 A. Holte et al.
In summary, families play a central role in child well-being. Of fundamental

importance are positive, warm family relationships that help promote positive
socio-emotional development and foster well-being. Economic or social factors
that negatively impact on these relationships serve to reduce the likelihood of
positive child development promoting child well-being.
20.4.7 Happy Parenting: Bruce Headey, Ruud Muffels, and Gert

G. Wagner
National sample surveys of life satisfaction have been undertaken in all Western
countries and many developing countries. In just a few of these surveys, parents and
children from the same family have been interviewed. The largest such survey is the
German Socio-Economic Panel, in which family members have been interviewed
annually since 1984 (Wagner et al. 2007). The German data are unique in that they
allow researchers to analyze not just the life satisfaction of parents and children
living in the same home but also the long-term influence of parents on children who
have grown up, left the parental home, and, in many cases, partnered themselves.
The German panel began with a sample of 12,541 individuals living in about
5,000 households. Everyone aged 16 and over is interviewed. The sample size has
been boosted several times since 1984, and there are now over 60,000 respondents
on file. “Children” continue to be interviewed even after they have left the parental
home. As of 2008, there were 3,208 children for whom life satisfaction data were
available both for them and their parents. Of these “children,” 1,251 had left the
parental home, the average age of the group being 30, with a range from 18 to 50.
As well as life satisfaction, the questionnaire also includes variables which may
account for interindividual differences in satisfaction: personality traits, normative
values, a wide range of attitudes and behaviors, and recall data on parent–child
conflict.
Analyzing the German data, Winkelmann (2004) reported fairly strong correla-
tions (around 0.35–0.45) between the life satisfaction of parents and adolescent
children living in the same household. These links were partly due to the personality
traits of extroversion (sociable, outgoing) and neuroticism (emotional instability),
both of which are about 50 % genetic (Costa and McCrae 1991) (see also
Sect. 20.4.5). Children whose parents were perceived as supportive had high levels
of life satisfaction, whereas those who reported conflict with parents had lower
levels (Aguche and Trommsdorff 2010). Interestingly, the satisfaction of parents
and children covaried over time. When parents became more (or less) satisfied, so
did their children.
Headey, Muffels, and Wagner (2012) focused on adult “children” who had left
the parental home. They found that there were still substantial correlations (around
0.25) between parent and “child” satisfaction and that these linkages could not be
accounted for solely by genetic personality traits. In searching for further
explanations, they concentrated on normative values and behaviors known to be
associated with life satisfaction (Diener and Seligman 2004; Headey et al. 2010;
Nickerson et al. 2003). Adult children who shared their parents’ commitment to
altruistic values, and also to family values, were happier than those who, like their
parents, gave priority to materialistic and career-oriented values. Behaviors
modeled by parents, including active social and community participation and
regular exercise, also helped to explain continuing positive associations between
parent and “child” life satisfaction.
In line with much psychological theory about parenting, it was found that
mothers had greater influence than fathers on the life satisfaction of both sons and
daughters. Both parents appear to inculcate values and behaviors associated with
happiness, but beyond that, the life satisfaction of mothers continues to directly
affect their offspring (Headey et al. 2012).
Interestingly, the life satisfaction of adult “children” appears to have some
influence on the satisfaction of their parents, as well as vice versa (Aguche and
Trommsdorff 2010; Headey et al. 2012). In the German sample, fathers continued
to be affected by the life satisfaction of their daughters, while mothers were being
more affected by their sons’ satisfaction levels.
The persistent influence of parents on the life satisfaction of their children well
into adulthood suggests that “happy” parenting probably yields a lifelong happiness
dividend, whereas unhappy parenting imposes long-term costs. In future work, it
will be important to pinpoint other normative values, skills, and behaviors
which parents may pass on to their children with lasting consequences for their
well-being.
20.4.8 Play: Anne Inger Helmen Borge
Children play intensely and concentrated with their toys. Play and well-being are
closely linked. Play and toys are essential ingredients for the developing child. In
the British Museum, we can enjoy a collection of toys from Egypt dated 2,000 years
BC. They created dolls of papyrus and made miniature elephant figures, horses, and
soldiers with movable parts and mobile charts.
Caregivers have high knowledge about which toys go with which age (Tamis-
LeMonda and Bornstein 1994). Adults create an optimal age-appropriate environ-
ment for play. Observation of the play environment indicates that it is very
important for the child’s well-being. Infants’ synchronous imitation (mimicry)
increases over the ages of 16–28 months. Infants who invite adults to mimic
increase their prosocial behavior and social competence (Fawett and
Liszkowski 2012). A positive social connection is established between the child
and the caregiver. The link between mimicry and well-being is mediated through
positive family relationships. Thus, one should bear in mind that there is no direct
causal link between play and well-being. Many other factors are involved.
These factors are characteristics of the child (gender, temperament), family
(harmony), and context (socioeconomic status). They will always influence play
and contribute to whether or not the play will be associated with positive well-
being. Children from abusing families engage in less child initiated play than
596 A. Holte et al.
neglecting and non-maltreating families (Valentino et al. 2011). These children

have weak well-being and especially problems with peer relationships and social
competence. Intervention efforts may improve and restore their well-being to
acceptable levels.
In a study of preschool girls, measures of well-being and coping were signifi-
cantly related to pretend play (Fiorelli and Russ 2012). Applying an “Affect in play
scale” and a puppet play task, the girls were asked to suggest coping responses to
potentially stressful situations. Imagination was frequently suggested as a coping
mechanism related to their affect and emotional mood. Boys, on the other hand,
who express greater affect in their play, had fewer complaints about pain and were
less anxious than peers who did not invest affects in their play. For both girls and
boys, a relationship exists between life satisfaction and positive affect and
expressing more imagination and creativity in play.
Parents give boys and girls different toys. They expect children to show gender-
specific play. The classic “baby X’ experiment” (Smith and Lloyd 1978) illustrates
why children get different life experiences. During 1 year, the children were dressed
in flight suits and clothes that did not reveal their gender. They got typical boys and
girls names, but, in half of the group, the name matched the gender in reality and, in
the other half, it did not. Thus, the adults, who did not know this, were playing half
of the time with children they thought were girls or boys. The results showed how
adults treated even these very young children according to what they believed was
their gender. In most cultures, parenting, play, and toys will be gender specific and
reinforce cultural expectations to masculine and feminine behavior. Today, a risk to
healthy development is not so much the gender issue but the decrease in free play
and increase in passive entertainment by “intelligent baby television” or computer
games for older children. Active, safe play should always be parallel to enriched
academic stimulation.
Interestingly, today, cultures do not agree on the importance of pretend play for
child well-being (Lancy 2007) and value pretending behavior differently. A recent
survey (Singer et al. 2009) found that in only 5 of 16 countries, the majority of
mothers reported that their child often participated in imaginative play. We need
more knowledge about the association between variations in imagination and well-
being. Methodological shortcomings are found in many studies, with different ways
of defining well-being and imagination.
Play is like life and love, it cannot be easily defined. Krasnor and Pepler (1980)
suggested four criteria in defining play, namely, flexibility, positive affect,
nonliterality, and intrinsic motivation. Nonliterality refers to play behavior lacking
its usual meaning while paradoxically retaining it (Lillard et al. 2013).
The criteria denote that play behavior can be exaggerated, fun, lack the usual
meaning, and be an activity by choice for its own sake. Play can be solitary, peer
related, free, or organized. During the first and second year, children’s play can
be categorized into three levels. The first level is dominated by exploratory activ-
ities, such as putting things into the mouth and manipulating toys. The second is
nonsymbolic play. It comprises concrete and functional activities, such as
playing with bricks. The third is symbolic play characterized by pretense
and make-believe play. Thus, to understand variations among children in their well-
being, there is a host of play types and psychological functions to choose among.
Among all the various levels, categories, and developmental stages of play
behavior, pretend play has attracted much research attention (for review see Lillard
et al. 2013). Pretend play is layered over reality. For example, a blanket over a table
is a castle. Language development and play are associated, with pretend play
preceding language (Lyytinen et al. 1997). Pretend play and constructs like coping
ability, creativity, adjustment, and the regulation of emotions are related and
demonstrated in several studies (Hoffmann and Russ 2012).
Few studies have directly examined the relationship between pretend play and
SWB. The American Academy of Pediatrics has summarized the importance of
play for promoting health. They suggest that play should be protected. They also
underline the need to maintain strong bonds between parent and child. Time for free
play has been reduced in many societies. Families and school systems have to
assure that play is an important element in children’s lives and to create an optimal
developmental milieu (Ginsburg et al. 2007).
Play in general and pretend play in particular are central for the development of
cognitive, social, and behavioral functions. Play has fascinated scientists for many
decades. Vygotsky (1967) illustrated the importance of pretend play for cognitive
development. For example, Vygotsky wrote that a banana could be a telephone
showing that children could understand that actions and object can be separated
from reality. The meaning of a given situation does not need to be based on the
physical properties of objects. Jean Piaget’s theory of cognitive development
illustrates how the child through play assimilates reality to accommodate to new
situations. Freud’s theory is the basis of psychoanalytic play therapy. Children with
social and mental problems reducing the quality of their well-being can be
approached using dolls. Trivial and nonutilitarian, play and well-being are worthy
of serious studies. It is an essential link in the developing child. Play or leisure
activities and hobbies are strongly associated with SWB in all ages.
20.4.9 Peer Relations: Anne Inger Helmen Borge
Children’s interactions with peers are free and based on their own choice of
companion, compared to the interaction with their parents. The concept of “peer
relations” covers a variety of relationships such as friendships, best friends, school-
mates, cliques, and neighborhood gangs that are examples of different contexts of
peer relations (Bukowski et al. 1996; Schneider 2000).
Peer relations are an important part of children´s positive adjustment and well-
being. Even from the first years of life, infants form relations with other infants and
toddlers. It is fascinating to look at the first encounters of infants, enthusiastically
crawling toward one particular child in their peer group. Why infants show this
early preference for one child in particular among many peers is not known. But
older children in preschool seem to select peers with similar personality character-
istics as themselves (Howes 1978). In the family context, the first interactive social
598 A. Holte et al.
and psychological relationship with another child at about the same age occurs with
a sibling (Dunn 2005). In kindergarten and elementary school, girls and boys
themselves choose friends among their peers, which is different from the given
family context with siblings or neighboring children.
Friendship is one of the most important types of peer relationships. Friendship
plays a special role in developing social competence and well-being during the
preschool years. In adolescence, peer relations play an important role in children’s
development and socialization and can be both good and bad for child well-being
(Vitaro et al. 2009). Closeness, intimacy, and trust become crucial. For example,
romantic relationships can be a mixed blessing for girls’ and boys’ well-being.
Cultural factors, ethnicity, gender, and activities are central in acceptance or
rejection of peers. The good relationships are characterized by inclusion, accep-
tance, and prosocial behavior. Bad peer relationships are typically illustrated by
rejection, isolation, exclusion, and aggression (Vitaro et al. 2000). Peers bully other
peers and victimization occurs. Not just any friend can foster resilience among
victimized peers. A best friend with physical strength and aggressiveness can
protect a victimized child against being bullied and cyber-bullied (Olweus 2012).
Together with a best friend, the vulnerable friend will maintain self-esteem and
protection from the social context.
Girls have, however, an even more nuanced perspective of peer problems than
boys. The cost of such caring among girls may entail a risk of empathic distress and
internalizing problems (Smith and Rose 2011). Consequently, peer relations are
important for children’s well-being but, in addition, can carry negative sides.
Today, researchers examine how and why children’s experiences with their
peers affect their well-being. What friends do to each other is predictively related
to their emotional well-being. By studying twins – not only one single child in
a family – researchers have documented a strong environmental risk for aggressive
behavior. The risk lies in the role of the friends’ aggression maintaining a child’s
own aggressive behavior, rather than in the child’s genotype (Vitaro et al. 2011).
Success in peer relations is a function of the child’s companionships, his and her
social competence, level of well-being, interpersonal skills, and culture.
In different cultures, urban and rural peers may differ in cooperation, prosocial
behavior, and opposite-sex friendships. In Japan and Latino cultures, parental values
may play a more central role for peer groups than in USA, Canadian, and European
cultures (Hetherington et al. 2006). Affiliating boys showing antisocial behavior with
prosocial children may balance the potential negative socializing impact of having
only antisocial friends (Eivers et al. 2012). Behavior problems in early school years
appear to lead to peer rejection, lack of friends, and reduced well-being. This, in turn,
may lead to early adolescent depression and loneliness (Pedersen et al. 2007). It is not
a new idea that one should target elementary school children’s peer relations to
prevent later well-being problems. In 1953, Harry Stack Sullivan proposed that
“chumships” help children overcome negative parenting. Peers – especially best
friends – might explain and discuss together in intimacy how a negative
context influences their self-concept. In this way, a positive relational context
with peers or best friends represents a strong link to SWB (Swartz et al. 2000).
More importantly, in the context of SWB, it is too hard for some children to
understand that another child may have a different view on things and a different
SWB than he/she has him/herself. Together peers develop psychological compe-
tences such as trust, endurance, confidence, conflict management, emotional regula-
tion, and theory of mind.
20.4.10 Early Childhood Education and Care: Henrik Daae

Zachrisson and Ratib Lekhal
Early Childhood Education and Care (ECEC) is a standard term used by OECD.
ECEC include all provision of childcare with an educational content prior to school
entry. As we use the term here, it includes day care, center care, preschool, pre-k,
and kindergarten. ECEC have been growing rapidly over the last few decades.
Today, more than 80 % of all children in the Western world experience some form
of ECEC prior to school entry (UNICEF 2008). ECEC is therefore an important
developmental context that affects children’s short- and long-term development,
especially for children at social risk (Shonkoff and Phillips 2000). Despite a vast
body of research on ECEC and child outcomes, there is a scarcity of studies which
explicitly assess its impact on children’s well-being. Rather, researchers have
addressed the impact of ECEC on cognitive and academic achievements, socio-
emotional development, and behavior. Until further, we therefore have to limit
ourselves to consider these outcomes as proxies for children’s well-being.
Early cognitive skills – including language development – may facilitate the
child’s well-being in multiple areas both in short term by providing the basis
for more successful social interactions (Liiva and Cleave 2005) and in longer
term by increasing the chances of academic success (Dickinson 2011). Evidence
on the influence of ECEC on cognitive and language development stems both
from experimental and observational – nonexperimental – studies. In general,
small-scale randomized trials demonstrate that ECEC improves cognitive and
language skills in young children and that – although some of the effects are
fading over time – benefits persist (Barnett 2011). Larger-scale observational
studies support this finding. For instance, findings from the USA – the NICHD
Study of Early Child Care and Youth Development (SECCYD) which is the most
comprehensive observational study in this area – demonstrate that compared
to children not attending ECEC, those who attend perform better on tests in various
cognitive domains throughout early childhood (NICHD 2006) and through
early adolescence (Vandell et al. 2010). Comparable results are reported in several
other countries, for instance, the UK (Melhuish et al. 2008) and Norway (Lekhal
et al. 2010).
An important caveat is that the positive gains of ECEC on cognitive develop-
ment are conditioned on quality of ECEC. Indeed, high quality is a prerequisite for
good cognitive and language development in ECEC (NICHD and Duncan 2003). In
general, quality refers both to structural features (e.g., sufficient number of staff and
staff training, stimulating learning materials, and child group sizes) and process
600 A. Holte et al.
features (e.g., the sensitivity and stimulation in the interaction between the children
and the staff) (Layzer and Goodson 2006).
As important as the potential of ECEC for improving cognitive – and language
development in all children, is its potential for closing gaps between children
growing up in social disadvantage and their peers (Burger 2010). For instance,
a Canadian observational study found social differences in school readiness but
not for children at social risk who had attended early ECEC (Geoffroy et al. 2010).
Again, quality matters; in the NICHD SECCYD, children from low-income fam-
ilies who had experiences of high-quality care performed almost as good as their
more affluent peers through early school age, whereas those who had no experi-
ences of high-quality care performed worse (Dearing et al. 2009). In sum, there
is strong evidence that high-quality ECEC benefits children’s cognitive and lan-
guage development, especially among children at social risk, and therefore makes
a positive contribution to children’s short- and long-term well-being.
As is the case for cognitive and language development, also socio-emotional and
behavioral development serve as a proxies for children’s subjective well-being.
Although children exhibiting high levels of externalizing problems (e.g.,
aggression and disobedience) may score high on well-being, such behaviors are
associated with increased risk for peer rejection (for details, see Sect. 20.4.9). Inter-
nalizing problems (e.g., anxiety and depression), as well as children’s
social competence and peer relationships, are more directly related to their well-
being, yet not conceptually equivalent. Compared to the impact of ECEC on
children’s cognitive development, its impact on socio-emotional and behavioral
development has been somewhat more questioned.
Participation in ECEC, as compared to parental care or – in some studies –
nonformal care (e.g., nanny), has in some studies been associated with higher levels
of behavior problems (e.g., NICHD Early Child Care Network, 2006; Magnuson
et al. 2007). These findings are, however, likely to be conditional upon the socio-
political context (Love et al. 2003). For instance in Norway with its – like the other
Nordic countries – comprehensive universal access ECEC policy, no differences in
behavior problems are found between children attending ECEC compared to
parental care (Lekhal 2012). The potential negative impact of infant care and of
large quantities of care has been debated (Belsky 2001). Whereas infant care has –
in observational studies – consistently been associated with higher levels of behav-
ioral problems (NICHD 2003), a quasi-experimental study has demonstrated that
entry into ECEC during the first 3 years of life is unrelated to child outcomes (Jaffee
et al. 2011). Other recent studies taking stricter approaches to causal inference also
fail to support the association between high quantities of ECEC and behavior
problems (McCartney et al. 2010; Zachrisson et al. 2013).
As is the case for cognitive outcomes, children from disadvantaged families tend
to benefit from participation in ECEC when compared to parental care also in the
socio-emotional and behavioral domain. For instance, Canadian observational
studies have found that children from low-income families, or children with low-
educated mothers, who attended ECEC have lower risk of developing externalizing
problems than do children cared for at home (Borge et al. 2004; Cote et al. 2007).
Similar results have also been found with quasi-experimental study designs in the
USA (Crosby et al. 2010). Again, quality tends to matter. High-quality ECEC
predicts healthy socio-emotional development in US children from low-income
families, ages 2–4, and that more hours spent in childcare are associated with fewer
behavior problems (Votruba-Drzal et al. 2010).
In sum, evidence for the influence of ECEC on children’s socio-emotional and
behavioral development is somewhat less conclusive than with regard to cognitive
development. There is, however, fairly consistent evidence that children from
disadvantaged backgrounds benefit from ECEC also in this domain.
There is an urgent need for studies on the influence of ECEC on child well-being.
Considering other child outcomes as proxies for well-being, the literature is quite
consistent in finding high-quality ECEC to improve development of language,
learning, and cognitive skills, especially for children from disadvantaged families.
The literature leaves us with less strong evidence to argue that ECEC improves
socio-emotional and behavioral development for most children. However, there is
also little evidence of deterioration. Children from disadvantaged backgrounds may
benefit from ECEC also in the socio-emotional and behavioral domains. Given the
current increasing political attention paid to the positive opportunities for children
provided by high-quality ECEC in many countries, the question for future debates
should be how children’s well-being can be sustained while maintaining the
educational benefits of ECEC.
20.4.11 The School: Margaret M. Barry
Schools are one of the most important settings for promoting the well-being of
young people (WHO 2001). The influence of the health-promoting schools initia-
tive (WHO 1998) has brought a focus on the school environment as well as the
curriculum as an important determinant of positive youth development. Schools
have an important function in nurturing children’s social and emotional develop-
ment as well as their academic and cognitive development. The importance of both
the hedonic and eudaimonic dimensions of well-being, including subjective emo-
tional well-being and positive psychological and social functioning, is clearly
embraced in current conceptualizations of positive mental health (Keyes 2007;
Kovess-Masfety et al. 2005). Enhancing children’s positive mental health and
well-being improves their ability to learn and to achieve academically as well as
their capacity to become responsible adults and citizens (Greenberg et al. 2003;
Payton et al. 2008; Weissberg et al. 1991; Zins 2004). This section addresses how
schools can promote and strengthen children’s emotional, social, and mental well-
being.
There is a growing body of international evidence that interventions which seek
to promote young people’s emotional and social well-being in schools, when
implemented effectively, can produce long-term benefits for young people. These
benefits include emotional and social functioning, improved academic perfor-
mance, reduced school drop-out rates, and a range of health and social outcomes
602 A. Holte et al.
(Durlak et al. 2011; Durlak and Wells 1997; Greenberg et al. 2001; Harden et al.
2001; Lister-Sharp et al. 1999; Payton et al. 2008; Weare and Nind 2011; Wells
et al. 2003; Wilson et al. 2001). The evidence indicates that long-term interventions
promoting the positive mental health and well-being of all pupils and involving
changes to the school environment are likely to be more successful than brief
classroom-based prevention programs (Barry and Jenkins 2007; Jané-Llopis et al.
2005; Weare and Nind 2011; Wells et al. 2003).
A number of successful universal school-based programs have employed cog-
nitive and social skills training in promoting children’ social and emotional com-
petencies (Aber et al. 1998; Bruene-Butler et al. 1997; Clarke and Barry 2010;
Greenberg et al. 2001; Greenberg et al. 1995; Kellam et al. 1994; Mishara and
Ystgaard 2006). Many of these programs have been evaluated using randomized
controlled trials and have been replicated with a wide range of children in different
school settings across countries.
Payton and coworkers (2008) report strong and consistent support for the value
of social and emotional learning programs (SEL) when implemented by school
staff, with research showing their sustained positive impact on multiple outcomes
for diverse groups of students. Based on a meta-analysis of 213 universal school-
based interventions involving 270,034 school children age 5–13 years, Durlak and
colleagues (2011) reported the following significant positive effects for
children participating in SEL programs: enhanced social and emotional skills
(mean ES ¼ 0.57); improved attitudes toward self, school, and others (mean
ES ¼ 0.23); enhanced positive social behavior (mean ES ¼ 0.24); reduced conduct
problems, misbehavior, and aggression (mean ES ¼ 0.22); and reduced emotional
distress, stress, and depression (mean ES ¼ 0.24). The review also found that in
addition to improving students’ social and emotional skills, SEL programs signif-
icantly improved children’s academic performance (mean ES ¼ 0.27), with an
average gain on standardized achievement test scores of 11 percentile points. It is
interesting to note that only when delivered by school staff do students’ academic
performance improve significantly (Payton et al. 2008).
An example of a SEL program that has been implemented globally is Zippy’s
Friends, which is a universal emotional well-being school-based program for
children age between 5 and 8 years of age (Bale and Mishara 2004). To date, the
program has been evaluated in Canada, Denmark, Ireland, Lithuania, Norway, and
the UK with key findings indicating significant positive effects on children’s coping
strategies, emotional literacy, social skills, reduced hyperactivity, and externalizing
behaviors (Clarke 2011; Clarke and Barry 2010; Holen et al. 2012a; b; Holmes and
Faupel 2005; Mishara and Ystgaard 2006). Evaluating the implementation of the
Zippy’s Friends program for school children in disadvantaged schools in Ireland
revealed the importance of contextual factors operating in the whole-school envi-
ronment, which can impact and influence program implementation and ultimately
program outcomes (Clarke 2011; Clarke et al. 2010).
Characteristics of effective interventions include a focus on enhancing generic
life skills and competencies and positive mental health, use of interactive teaching
methodologies, balancing universal and targeted approaches, starting early with the
youngest children, programs implemented continuously and long term in nature,

embedding the work within a health-promoting whole-school approach focusing on
the social and physical environment of the school, as well as family and community
links with the schools and the school curriculum and pupils’ knowledge (Barry and
Jenkins 2007; Green et al. 2005; Weare and Nind 2011).
The evaluation of SEL programs highlights the need for supportive
organizational and system-level practices and policies to ensure the sustainable
implementation and integration of effective interventions. The importance of orga-
nizational-level change, including the school culture, environment, and school
practices, is recognized as being critical for effective implementation and sustain-
ability (Bumbarger and Perkins 2008; Durlak and DuPre 2008; Rowling 2008).
School-based interventions adopting a whole-school approach seek to
enhance the social and emotional well-being and positive life skills of pupils
and work to create supportive environments that foster positive youth develop-
ment and a sense of connectedness with the family, community, and broader
social context of young people’s lives (Rowling et al. 2002). Interventions
employing a comprehensive whole-school approach are designed to impact at
the level of the individual pupil, the classroom, and the school as a whole.
Review evidence supports the effectiveness of school-based interventions that
take a whole-school approach (Lister-Sharp et al. 1999; Weare and Nind 2011;
Wells et al. 2003). Examples of whole-school approaches that have been
implemented successfully include the Australian MindMatters program (Wynn
et al. 2000) and the Olweus Bullying Prevention Program (Olweus et al. 1998).
While evidence relating to interventions that adopt a truly whole-school
approach (i.e., include all elements) is quite limited, those that have been
identified provide indication of a positive impact, with small to medium effect
sizes being reported on outcome measures (Adi et al. 2007).
A review of the cost-effectiveness of whole-school approaches by McCabe
(2007) suggests that interventions of this type can lead to health, academic, and
social gains, which lead to savings for health and social services and for the
criminal justice system. Lack of investment in promoting children’s emotional
and social well-being in schools is likely to lead to significant costs for society as
young people who experience emotional and social problems are more likely, at
some point, to misuse drugs and alcohol, to have lower educational attainment, and
to be untrained, unemployed, and involved in crime.
The evidence attests to the value of interventions which promote the emo-
tional and social well-being of young people in the school context. There is
a need to integrate efforts to promote social and emotional well-being of young
people with the school’s educational mission of academic learning. This requires
leadership at the policy and school level, together with the engagement of pupils,
teachers, families, and local communities. Supportive policies and effective
partnerships across the education and health sectors are needed to ensure the
establishment of system-level practices that will support the sustainable integra-
tion and promotion of children’s well-being in the school setting and ensure its
long-term impact.
604 A. Holte et al.
20.5 Application
20.5.1 Five Ways to Well-Being: Ragnhild Bang Nes and Nic Marks
How do we practically promote well-being, build competence, enhance optimal

functioning, and stimulate flourishing in children? A number of child-centered
interventions have been developed in recent years. Many of these efforts reflect
a movement within the health services toward more affirming and strength-building
approaches, commonly emphasizing primary prevention and competence
promotion.
Promotion of well-being and positive mental health constitutes an integral part
of improving overall population health. There is a growing realization that well-
being interventions which can be implemented and sustained at a reasonable cost
will contribute substantially to better health and social gains for the population at
large, thus representing a strong case for policy investment (Barry and Friedli
2008; WHO 2004). Childhood is commonly regarded as the optimal time to
promote healthy attitudes and behavior as positive adaptation at one developmen-
tal stage is likely to provide a foundation for successful encounters also at
subsequent stages, building enduring personal resources (1998, 2001). Practical
applications of “positive psychology” are thus likely to be most efficacious when
initiated early and when they are maintained over time. Not surprisingly, the
public policy context has recently seen a surge of interest in psychological well-
being. In the UK, National Children’s Charities such as “The Children’s Society”
and “Action for Children” have also advocated policy changes in this realm. The
Children’s Society have researched and widely campaigned about the need for
better measures of childhood well-being (http://www.childrenssociety.org.uk/
what-we-do/research/well-being/publications). Action for Children has
made a detailed economic case for a more preventative approach to children’s
services (http://www.actionforchildren.org.uk/policy-research/policy-priorities/
backing-the-future).
A considerable number of interventions have been developed to promote posi-
tive mental health during childhood, for example, by means of promoting socio-
emotional competence in both parents and children (Barry 2013). There is no
generalized empirical evidence of the efficacy of many of these interventions, but
systematic reviews, effectiveness studies, and meta-analyses generally support the
value of programs and interventions that promote positive mental health (Seligman
et al. 2005; Sin and Lyubomirsky 2009). Additionally, experimental and clinical
research has shown that various intervention tools (e.g., mindfulness-based
approaches) simultaneously increase well-being and reduce symptoms of depres-
sion (Fredrickson et al. 2008).
In the following, we will focus on the program Five Ways to Well-Being
(http://www.neweconomics.org/sites/neweconomics.org/files/Five_Ways_to_Well-
being_Evidence_1.pdf ). This program illustrates the potential to intervene around the
same goal – well-being – across different sectors (e.g., health, education) at different
levels, including individual children and parents, youth groups, kindergartens,
schools, communities, and organizations, and at a strategic policy level across the life-
span. The Five Ways to Well-Being were originally designed by the new economics
foundation (nef), a London-based think tank, who have conducted considerable
research into well-being policy over the last decade. In 2008, the UK Government
Office of Science commissioned a comprehensive and wide-ranging review of the
academic literature on well-being as part of its 2008 Foresight program. Five Ways to
Well-Being drew on the extensive evidence unearthed during the Foresight review as
well as the wider literature on positive psychology. The main task was to create a short
list of positively framed actions that target individuals of all ages and are universally
applicable and evidence based and which individuals may build into their daily lives.
The five action dimensions were intended to constitute a simple and accessible means
of communicating the extensive recent evidence about specific activities that can
improve and maintain mental health and well-being. The actions thus mainly influ-
ence well-being and mental capital by interacting at the level of “functioning.” The
five ways are the following:
Connect! Build social relationships and spend time with friends and family.
There is extensive evidence that our social relationships are critical to our well-
being (e.g., Seligman et al. 2005; Sin and Lyubomirsky 2009).
Be active! Engage in regular physical activity which is, for example, associated
with lower rates of depression across all age groups and with better cognition in
children (e.g., Fox 1999; Penedo and Dahn 2005).
Take notice! Be mentally “present” and focus on awareness and appreciation.
Research, particularly on mindfulness and mediation, has been shown to have
positive effects on children’s well-being (Burke 2010).
Keep learning! Maintain curiosity about the world and try new things. Being
willingly engaged with learning processes is good for people’s cognitive and social
skills as well as self-confidence and competency (e.g., Ryan and Deci 2000).
Give! Make a positive contribution to the lives of others. Neuroscience has
shown that reward areas of our brain are stimulated when we engage in mutually
cooperative actions and actions such as volunteering and helping others (e.g.,
Harbaugh et al. 2007).
The Five Ways to Well-Being are intended to be positive and engaging, flexible,
non-prescriptive, empowering, participative, and collaborative, yet firmly grounded
in extensive scientific evidence. Since launching in 2008, groups as diverse as
general practitioners and other health-care professionals, mental health commis-
sioners, arts practitioners, faith groups, community and voluntary organizations,
and local authority departments have incorporated the Five Ways to Well-Being in
their work. Strikingly, the range of uses has been broad, going well beyond just
thinking of the Five Ways to Well-Being as a set of health promotion messages.
The Five Ways to Well-Being were not designed specifically with children in
mind, and there has been no systematic measurement of their impact on children’s
well-being, but they are evidence-based actions resting on a substantial empirical
foundation which indicate that incorporation of more Five-Ways-type activities into
daily lives will improve well-being. In 2011, nef was commissioned by the UK’s
National Health Service Confederation and the National Mental Health
606 A. Holte et al.
Development Unit to systematically explore how different groups had used the Five
Ways to Well-Being. Two primary dimensions were identified, the first being the
point of intervention (i.e., individuals, groups, and/or strategic level) and the second
principal purpose (i.e., increase well-being directly or indirectly). Several Five
Ways projects, both small and large scale, have now been introduced in different
countries. For example, a Five Ways to Well-Being project has recently been
launched in 1 600 Norwegian kindergartens, inviting 70 000 children and their
parents (http://www.psykiskhelse.no/index.asp?id¼31627). Another project
invited children (aged 5–11) from four primary schools in North of England. The
latter project involved children throughout every stage of the production of a book
called “Wit Wolf’s Journey to Happiness.” The story is retelling the well-known
children’s fairy tale about Little Red Riding Hood and the Wolf, and each subplot
was based around one of the five ways (http://www.stockport-academy.org/upload/
files/newsletter__march_2010.pdf).
These recent projects involve the children in the design of specific projects and
interventions, working with them as “facilitators” of coproduced solutions. How-
ever, the focus of interventions need not be the individual. There is considerable
scope for using the Five Ways to Well-Being to improve children’s well-being in
more strategic and indirect ways, both in terms of affecting the wider contexts in
which children live to promote well-being and by informing processes and ways of
living more generally.
20.5.2 A Guide to Findings on Children’s Happiness in the World

Database of Happiness: Ruut Veenhoven
The World Database of Happiness (Veenhoven 2012f) is a findings archive. That is,
a collection of observations that result from scientific empirical research. The
database focuses on research findings on happiness in the sense of subjective
enjoyment of life. Its goal is to facilitate accumulation of knowledge on this subject.
The database consists of several collections. It builds on a collection of all
scientific publications about happiness, called the “Bibliography of Happiness”
(Veenhoven 2012a). To date this collection includes some 7,000 books and articles,
of which half report an empirical investigation that used an acceptable measure of
happiness, listed in the collection “Measures of Happiness” (Veenhoven 2012e).
The findings yielded by some 3,500 studies that past this test for adequate mea-
surement of happiness are described on separate “finding pages,” using a standard
format and a standard terminology. Two kinds of findings are discerned: distribu-
tional findings on how happy people are at a particular time and place and
correlational findings about the things that go together with more or less happiness
in these populations.
To date the database contains about 8,000 distributional findings, of which 5,000
on happiness in the general population of nations (Veenhoven 2012c) and 3,000 on
happiness in particular social categories, such as students or psychiatric patients
(Veenhoven 2012d).
The collection “correlational findings” (Veenhoven 2012b) contains some

15,000 research results. These findings are sorted by subject, such as “Happiness
and Age” and “Happiness and Income.” The collection can also be searched on
characteristics of the population investigated, that is, population, place, and time,
and on methodological features such as sampling and measurement. Though far
from complete, this is the best available source on conditions for happiness at
present.
The database is free available on Internet at http://worlddatabaseofhappiness.
eur.nl A detailed description is found with Veenhoven (2011).
The Bibliography of Happiness involves a detailed subject classification, among
which a classification of populations studied. Part of that categorization is
a distinction of age groups in which happiness is assessed, which is presented in
Table 20.1. The numbers at the right in Table 20.1 refer to the number of publica-
tions. To date (November 2012) the Bibliography lists 290 publications in which
the happiness of children is addressed. Most of these (178) are among adolescents,
but there are also quite some publications on happiness in basic school children
(58) and a few on preschool children (6).
The numbers at the right in Table 20.1 link to a list on which these publications
are described. An example of such a list is presented on Table 20.2, the 6 publica-
tions on happiness in preschool children. For each publication, the usual biblio-
graphic signature is given: author, title, source of publication, and year of
publication. When possible links to the full text are added, use either the DOI
links or a link to a Web site where the publication is available. If the publication
involves research findings that are included in the findings collections of the World
Database of Happiness, a link to the extracted findings pages is also added (WDH).
Investigations that used at least one acceptable measure of happiness are
described on a “study page,” and one of the descriptors is the “population”
concerned. Populations can be “general” or “special”; the general population is
all people living in a particular area at a certain time and special populations are
particular kinds of people, such as intellectuals, homemakers, or people in certain
ages. Studies among children are considered to concern a “special public” and
classified under “age groups.” For particular kinds of children, such as gifted
children, additional classifications are made.
An overview is presented on Table 20.3. The number of studies mentioned in
Table 20.3 is much lower than the number of publications in Table 20.1. One reason
is that not all publications report an empirical investigation that used an acceptable
measure of happiness. Another reason is that about half of the accepted studies is
still waiting to be entered in the findings collections.
Each of these studies is described on a “study page” using a standard format and
a standard terminology. The page starts with a short description of the investigation,
which involves detail about the people investigated, the way of data gathering, and
the measure of happiness used. On the page are links to further pages on which the
findings are reported. An example is presented on Table 20.4.
Happiness is defined as “the enjoyment of one’s life as a whole.” Since this
is something people have in mind, it can be measured using questions such as
608 A. Holte et al.
Table 20.1 Publications on Happiness in age groups 5

happiness in age groups listed
In children 40
in the bibliography of
happiness Infants 9
Preschool children 6
Basic school children 53
High school pupils, adolescents 178
Mentally retarded children 4
In young adults 15
In middle-aged people 10
In elderly people 802
Table 20.2 Some publications on happiness in preschool children listed in the bibliography of
happiness
Overview of publications on happiness and preschool children
Additional keywords: Kindergarten, toddler
Author(s) Fekkes, M.; Brugman, E.; Theunissen, N.C.; Veen, S.
Title Development and psychometric evaluation of the TAPQUOL:
a health-related quality of life instrument for 1–5-year-old
children
Source Quality of life research, 2000, Vol. 9, 961–972
Year 2000
DOI link DOI:10.1023/A:1008981603178
ISSN 0962 9343
Author(s) Henggeler, S.W.; Borduin, C.M.
Title Satisfied working mothers and their preschool sons: interaction
and psychosocial adjustment.
Source Journal of Family Issues, 1981, Vol. 2, 322–335
Year 1981
ISSN 0192 513X
WDH excerpt HENGG 1981/1 HENGG 1981/2
Etc. . .. . .. . .. . .. . ...
Number of publications: 6
“Taking all together, how satisfied or dissatisfied are you with your life as a whole
these days? Please rate with a number between 0 and 10, where 0 stand for
extremely dissatisfied and 10 for extremely satisfied.” Such questions are com-
monly used in surveys of the general population, some of which consider people
from age 12 on. Questions of this kind are also being used in studies among
adolescents. Such questions are classified as pertaining to “overall” happiness in
the collection “Measures of Happiness” and coded “O.”
The answering of these questions requires that the respondent has formed an idea
about “overall satisfaction” and “life as a whole” and this is typically not the case
with young children. Still school-age children do mostly have an idea of how happy
Table 20.3 Links to findings AGE groups

on happiness of children in
AGE groups
the collection of “Happiness
in Publics” Infants 6
Toddlers
Basic school children 21
Teens, adolescents 81
Etc.. . .. . .. . .. . .
CHILDREN
CHILDREN
Children living with single parent 1
Gifted children
Handicapped children 2
Twins 4
Children of divorce 2
Table 20.4 Example of a “study page” in collection of “Happiness in Publics” classified as

regarding “children”
Investigation
Author(s) Holder, M.D.; Coleman, B.; Wallace, J.M.
Title Spirituality, Religiousness, and Happiness in
Children aged 8–12 Years
Public 8–12 aged children, 2 schools, Canada
Happiness measure used A-AOL-g-sq-f-7-a, responses
Happiness measure used A-AOL-g-rdf-f-7-a, responses
Correlational findings
How author named it Our subject classification
Activity Active
Communal spirituality Perceived quality of intimate ties
Emotionality Emotional
Environmental spirituality Ecological values
Gender Sex (male vs. female)
Parent rating of child happiness Rating of happiness by parents
Etc.. . .. . .. . .. . .. . ...
they “feel” most of the time, and at least from age 8 on, they appear to be able to
respond to questions on that matter in a consistent way (VanVaalen 2011). Such
questions tap what is called the “affective component” of happiness and are coded
“A” in the collection Measures of Happiness.
Younger children are less able to estimate how well they feel most of the time
but are still able to report how they feel at the moment. Therefore their happiness
can be measured using multi-moment assessment, such as by repeatedly asking
610 A. Holte et al.
Table 20.5 Example of a distributional finding on happiness in children

Happiness measure used in study HOLDE 2010
Full text Self-report on single question: “Overall how do you usually feel?”
Rated on seven-step faces scale ranging from sad to happy, without
verbal or numerical labels
Classification A-AOL-g-sq-f-7-a
Focus Affect: average overall level
Time frame Generally
Mode 1 question
Scale type Faces scale, range ¼ 7
Author’s label Faces scale
Page in source 135,138
Distribution of happiness
% score 1 ¼ 0
% score 2 ¼ 0
% score 3 ¼ 3
% score 4 ¼ 7
% score 5 ¼ 19
% score 6 ¼ 47
% score 7 ¼ 24
% Don’t know, No answer 0
Mean on original scale 5.82
Mean on scale 0–10 8.03
Standard deviation on 0.97
original scale
Standard deviation on scale 1.62
0–10
“How happy do you feel right now?” Such repeated single questions are coded
A-ARE for “Affect-Average Repeated Estimates” in the collection “Measures of
Happiness.”
Very young children, such as toddlers, cannot even report how they feel at the
moment, and their affect level must therefore be inferred from behavioral indica-
tions, such as frequency of crying and facial expression. Measures of this kind are
coded A-CA, for Affect-Cheerful Appearance. Such rating can be made by trained
observers or by teachers and parents.
Studies on happiness in children that used acceptable measures are listed in the
collection of “Happiness in Publics,” in the section “Happiness in Age Groups,”
subsection “children.” See Table 20.3. Scrolling these studies, one can see which
particular measures have been applied as yet.
Each of the findings obtained in studies that used an acceptable measure of
happiness is described on a separate “finding page.” Findings on how happy
children are are noted together with full detail about the measure used. An example
of such a page is presented on Table 20.5.
Table 20.6 Example of a correlational finding on happiness in children

Study HOLDE 2010
Author(s) Holder, M.D.; Coleman, B.; Wallace, J.M.
Title Spirituality, religiousness, and happiness
in children aged 8–12 Years
Source Journal of Happiness Studies, 2010,
Vol.11, 131–150
DOI DOI:10.1007/s10902-008-9126-1
Sample Non-probability purposive sample
Nonresponse 11
Respondents N ¼ 320
Correlate
Author’s label Parent rating of child happiness
Page in source 138
Our classification Rating of happiness by parents, code
H8.2.1
Operationalization Overall how does your child usually feel?
Rating by parents in response to single
question:
1 sad face
2
3
4
5
6
7 happy face
Seven faces presented ranging from sad to
happy, without verbal or numerical labels
Observed distribution M ¼ 5,74, SD ¼ 0.77
Remarks Assessed 10 days before children rated
their happiness
Observed relation with happiness
Happiness measure Statistics Elaboration/remarks
A-AOL-g-sq-f-7-a r ¼ + .35 p < .05 Child’s self-rating of happiness on the
same scale
These pages can be assessed in several ways. One way is through the “study
pages” listed in the collection of findings on “Happiness in Publics.” The finding
pages can also be accessed through the collection of findings on “Happiness in
Nations.” Select a nation and an overview of findings in that nation will appear.
Select “distributional findings” and next under “special publics” the category “age
group” and within that category the subcategory “children.”
To date (November 2012) n option for comparison of average happiness in
children across nations is in preparation. As yet, most of these data concern
adolescents.
612 A. Holte et al.
Correlational findings are also presented on a “finding page,” an example of

which is presented on Table 20.6. On top of this page is a description of the “study,”
with reference to the publication in which the finding was reported and a short
description of the investigation. Next on the page is a description of the “correlate.”
That is, the factor of which the relationship with happiness was investigated, in this
case the parents’ estimate of how happy their child is. At the bottom of the real
finding, in this case, a surprisingly low correlation with the child’s own rating of
how happy it feels most of the time.
On the Web site of the World Database of Happiness are instructions for adding
findings to the archive.
Acknowledgements We are grateful to Mette Lemser who assisted in the technical editing of this
chapter and to Jeanette Ziehm, Hannah Meurer, Evelyn Raichle, and Holly Bunje for their valuable
assistance with the section on “Subjective Well-Being in Children and Adolescents from a Cross-
Cultural Perspective” (20.4.1).
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Section III
Theoretical Approaches to Child Well-Being
Understanding the Well-Being of Children
and Adolescents Through Homeostatic 21
Theory
Robert A. Cummins
21.1 Introduction
There is an enormous literature on the well-being of children and adolescents

(hereafter “children”). While the notion of well-being is important at any age, it
has special interest in respect of young people because ill-being has such potential
to interfere with their normal life trajectory. As is well documented, a significant
proportion of youth in Western countries suffer some form of mental health
problem. In Australia, for example, Sawyer et al. (2000) estimate that about 14 %
of adolescents aged 13–17 years could be classified as having mental health issues
as determined by the Child Behavior Checklist (Achenbach 1991). This is an
instrument for assessing behavioral and emotional problems and competencies.
However, it is heavily weighted to the measurement of ill-being, through accessing
such constructs as anxiety and aggression. Similar results have been reported for
American youth (e.g., Keyes 2006). The authors of these and similar reports refer to
their results in terms of “well-being.”
The representation of “well-being” as the antonym of “ill-being” is common-
place in the literature. It follows the tradition in physical medicine of regarding the
patient as “well” as long as they are not “ill.” It is found in reviews of instruments
measuring psychopathology (e.g., Smith and Brun 2006), in meta-analyses of
“well-being” (e.g., Fischer and Boer 2011), and in numerous regular papers in
both medicine and psychology. Unfortunately, the antonym does not apply within
psychology, and this important misunderstanding has caused much confusion.
One avenue to understanding why “well-being” and “ill-being” are not func-
tional opposites comes from studying subjective well-being (SWB). It is now
evident that SWB is a basic property of human experience, with increasingly
R.A. Cummins
School of Psychology, Deakin University, Melbourne, VIC, Australia

636 R.A. Cummins
defined scales of measurement, norms, and theoretical models to describe and

predict its interaction with ill-being. One such model describes the control of
SWB in terms of homeostasis.
21.2 Subjective Well-Being Homeostasis
The theory of subjective well-being homeostasis (Cummins 1995, 2010) proposes

that, in a manner analogous to the homeostatic maintenance of body temperature,
subjective well-being (SWB) is actively controlled and maintained by automatic
neurological and psychological processes (see also Cummins and Nistico 2002).
The purpose of SWB homeostasis is to maintain a normally positive sense of well-
being that is generalized and rather abstract. It can be measured by the classic
question “How satisfied are you with your life as a whole?” Given the extraordinary
generality of this question, the response that people give is not based on a cognitive
evaluation of their life. Rather, it reflects the deep, stable, positive mood that is the
essence of SWB. It is this general and abstract sense of positive mood which
homeostasis seeks to defend. As a consequence of homeostatic maintenance,
subjective well-being has some interesting characteristics.
21.2.1 SWB Is Normally Stable and Positive
The stability of SWB at the level of population sample mean scores is remarkable.
The Australian Unity Wellbeing Index has been used to monitor the SWB of the
Australian population since 2001 using the Personal Wellbeing Index (International
Wellbeing Group 2006). A total of 26 surveys were conducted from 2001 to 2011,
each involving a new sample of 2,000 people (Cummins et al. 2010). All results are
standardized to a 0–100 scale, and using the 26 survey mean scores as data, the
average of these surveys is 75 points and the standard deviation is 0.8 points.
To explain this positive stability in SWB, it is proposed that each person has a set
point for their SWB that constitutes a genetically determined, individual difference.
While the strength of genetic determination is uncertain, longitudinal studies on twins
have led to estimates that the stable component of SWB has a heritability of some
40 % (Lykken and Tellegen 1996; Roysamb et al. 2003). While there is a high level
of agreement in the literature that such set points exist, Casas et al. (2008) failed to
find clear evidence for the heritability of set points between children and their parents
even though SWB comparisons seemed to indicate a detectable influence of a shared
environment. More studies are required to clarify the degree of heritability.
We also propose, on the basis of empirical deduction (Cummins 2010), that the
set points of individual people lie within the range of 60–90 points, with a mean of
75. Calculations also seem to indicate that, within this range, the normal variation
around each set point is about 6 percentage points on either side of its mean.
Homeostatic processes seek to maintain SWB within this set-point range for each
person.
21 Understanding the Well-Being of Children and Adolescents 637
The assumed normal distribution of set points within large samples, together
with the set-point ranges, explains why no population group chosen on the basis of
demographic criteria has a reliable SWB higher than about 81–82 points (Cummins
et al. 2007b). That is, if all members of a demographically advantaged sample, such
as people who are very wealthy, are operating at the top of their respective set-point
ranges, then the sample SWB should be about 75 + 6 ¼ 81 points.
21.2.2 How Is SWB Managed?
So what kind of a system might be responsible for keeping SWB stable and
positive? There is a substantial literature in which researchers describe the models
they imagine responsible for quality of life. One of the earliest was proposed by Liu
(1975), who created a composite model comprising nine “component indicators”
and a formula for their combination. The components are all objective. While he
does include “psychological inputs” into his formula, he regards this “subjective
component [as] qualitative in nature, [specific to] the individual and is not now
measurable” (p. 12).
In the year following, two other models were published, each of which assumed
the reliable measurement of SWB. The “Lewinian” life space model (Campbell
et al. 1976) and the “two-dimensional conceptual model” (Andrews and Withey
1976) were both concerned with the composition of quality of life into its objective
and subjective components, but did not incorporate any of the psychometric
characteristics described above. It took more than a decade for subsequent
researchers to build models based on psychometric data.
The first of these pioneers were two Australian researchers, Headey and Wearing
(1989). Using data from a panel study, they observed that people appeared to have
an ‘equilibrium level’ for their SWB. That is, in the absence of significant life
events, people tended to maintain a relatively steady level of SWB and that if an
event caused SWB to change then, over time, it tended to regain its previous level.
They called this their “dynamic equilibrium model” and considered the manage-
ment of SWB to be vested in a genetically inbuilt psychological system, based in
stable personality characteristics, which had the primary purpose of maintaining
self-esteem. They characterized this positive sense of SWB as a “sense of relative
superiority” because it had the consequence of making people feel that their
subjective life experience is better than average for the population.
Four years later, Tesser (1988) and Beach and Tesser (2000) proposed their self-
evaluation maintenance model. This also concerns the maintenance of positive
feelings about the self, with the motivation provided by a preference for positive
affective states and goal achievement. A balancing negative force was perceived as
the need for accuracy, consistency, and control. However, the overall balance is
weighted toward positivity due to the greater need to maintain positive feelings
about the self than for accurate perceptions of self-performance. This model is
limited to social interaction as the source of positive and negative feedback and
does not build on the crucial insight provided by SWB stability.
638 R.A. Cummins
The next researchers to use this insight were Stones and Kozma (1991) who
proposed their “magical model of happiness.” Like Headey and Wearing, they
depicted SWB as a self-correcting process that maintains stability around set points
that differ between individuals. They also regard SWB stability as a function of
a dispositional system (Kozma et al. 2000, now referred to this as the “propensity
model”). Importantly, they advanced understanding by noting that the stability in
SWB could not be entirely explained through personality variables alone and that
the best predictor of future SWB was the level of past SWB.
Other authors (Hanestad and Albrektsen 1992; Nieboer 1997; Ormel 1983;
Ormel and Schaufeli 1991) have also developed models based around the
assumption that SWB is neurologically maintained in a state of dynamic equilib-
rium. However, none of these incorporate the psychometric characteristics of SWB
described in the previous section and the nature of the relationship between
SWB and other demographic and psychological variables. The model that attempts
such a synthesis is SWB homeostasis.
21.2.3 SWB Is Homeostatically Protected
While SWB is normally held positive with remarkable tenacity, it is not immutable.
A sufficiently adverse level of challenge can defeat the homeostatic system, and
when this occurs, the level of subjective well-being falls below its homeostatic
range and this is likely to signal depression (Cummins 2010). However, under
normal levels of challenge, homeostatic processes maintain SWB within its set-
point range for each person through three levels of defense we call “buffers.”
The first line of defense is behavior. People are generally adept at avoiding
strong challenges through established life routines that make daily experiences
predictable and manageable. However, strong and unexpected events will inevita-
bly occur from time to time. Such events will shift SWB out of its normal range, as
attention shifts to the emotion generated by the event. Such deviations from the set-
point range will usually last for a brief period of time, until adaptation occurs.
Adaptation to unusual positive challenges is very predictable and well understood
(Helson 1964). Adaptation to negative challenges is less certain but is assisted by
the buffering capacity of the two “external buffers” as relationship intimacy and
money.
Of these two external buffers, the most powerful is a relationship that involves
mutual sharing of intimacies and support (Cummins et al. 2007a). Almost univer-
sally, the research literature attests to the power of good relationships to moderate
the influence of potential stressors on SWB (for reviews see Henderson 1977;
Sarason et al. 1990).
Money is also a powerful external buffer, but there are misconceptions as to
what money can and cannot do in relation to SWB. It cannot, for example, shift the
set point to create a perpetually happier person. Set points for SWB are genetically
determined (Lykken and Tellegen 1996; Røysamb et al. 2002; Stubbe et al. 2005),
so in this sense, money cannot buy happiness. No matter how rich someone is, their
average level of SWB cannot be sustained higher than a level that lies toward the
top of their set-point range. People adapt readily to luxurious living standards, so
genetics trumps wealth after a certain level of income has been achieved.
The true power of wealth is to protect well-being through its use as a highly
flexible resource (Cummins 2000) that allows people to defend themselves against
the negative potential inherent within their environment. Wealthy people pay others
to perform tasks they do not wish to do themselves. Poor people, who lack such
resources, must fend for themselves to a much greater extent. Poor people, there-
fore, have a level of SWB that is far more at the mercy of their environment. One
consequence is that their mean SWB is lower than average.
While the external buffers assist with homeostatic management of SWB, they
are not always successful. If these defenses fail, then the experience of SWB moves
outside the set-point range, and when this occurs, it is proposed that the internal
buffers are activated.
The internal buffers comprise protective cognitive devices designed to minimize
the impact of personal failure on positive feelings about the self. Such devices have
been variously described as downward social comparisons (Wills 1981), secondary
control (Rothbaum et al. 1982), benefit reminding (Affleck and Tennen 1996), and
positive reappraisal (Folkman and Moskowitz 2002).
A detailed discussion of these internal buffers in relation to SWB is provided by
Cummins and Nistico (2002) and Cummins, Gullone, and Lau (2002). Internal
buffers protect SWB by altering the way we see ourselves in relation to homeostatic
challenge, such that the negative potential in the challenge is deflected away from
the core view of self. The ways of thinking that can achieve this are highly varied.
For example, one can find meaning in the event (“God is testing me”), fail to take
responsibility for the failure (“it was not my fault”), or regard the failure (dropping
a fragile object) as unimportant (“I did not need that old vase anyway”).
In summary, the combined external and internal buffers ensure that subjective
well-being is robustly defended. There is, therefore, considerable stability in the
SWB of populations, and as has been stated, the mean for Western societies like
Australia is consistently at about 75 points on a 0–100 scale. But what is the
composition of subjective well-being?
21.2.4 Homeostasis Is Defending HPMood
Most contemporary theorists regard the composition of SWB, obtained through

a verbal or written response, to involve both affective and cognitive components.
This was first recognized by Campbell et al. (1976) who suggested that this
amalgam should be measured through questions of “satisfaction.” This form of
question has since become standard for SWB measurement. However, relatively
little research has examined the relative contribution of affect and cognition.
Whether, as claimed by Diener, Napa-Scollon, and Lucas (2004), SWB represents
a dominantly cognitive evaluation is moot. Indeed, to the contrary, more recent
research (Blore et al. 2011; Davern et al. 2007; Tomyn and Cummins 2011a)
640 R.A. Cummins
weighs the balance strongly in favor of affect, in the form of a deep and stable
positive mood state we refer to as homeostatically protected mood (HP Mood:
Cummins 2010).
The first indication that HPMood, not cognition, dominates the structure of SWB
came from Davern et al. (2007). These authors used structural equation modeling to
explore the relative strength of core variables to account for the variance in SWB.
These variables were HPMood (measured by six affects including contented,
happy, and alert), cognition (measured according to multiple discrepancies theory;
MDT, Michalos 1985), and all five factors of personality (NEO Personality Inven-
tory; Costa and McCrae 1992). Three separate models confirmed that the relation-
ship between SWB and HPMood was far stronger than that between SWB and
either personality or cognition. Moreover, their best-fitting model accounted for
90 % of the variance in SWB.
This pioneering research indicated that HPMood is the driving force behind
SWB, not personality as is generally reported in the literature (e.g., DeNeve and
Cooper 1998; Emmons and Diener 1985; Headey and Wearing 1989, 1992; Vitterso
2001; Vitterso and Nilsen 2002). Moreover, a major implication of their findings is
that HPMood may be causing the relationship between personality and SWB. That
is, since HPMood accounts for most of the shared variance between personality and
SWB, individual differences in set-point levels of HPMood may be causing per-
sonality and SWB to correlate.
A follow-up study by Blore et al. (2011) supports the findings of Davern et al.
(2007). They used data from 387 individuals who responded to the 5th longitudinal
survey of the Australian Unity Wellbeing Index (see http://acqol.deakin.edu.au/
index_wellbeing/index.htm) and confirmed, again using structural equation modeling,
that HPMood accounted for 66 % of the variance in SWB. Following Davern et al.,
these authors also concluded that personality is not an important determinant of SWB.
After accounting for the variance supplied by HPMood, extroversion had
a nonsignificant relationship with SWB, while neuroticism remained weakly related.
Thus, their findings strongly support SWB as a construct mainly comprising HPMood.
In sum, we propose that HPMood comprises a blend of hedonic (pleasant) and
arousal values (activation). It is measured by asking how people generally feel on
the three affects of contented, happy, and alert. We propose that each person has
genetically generated level of HPMood which provides them with a unique level of
felt positivity. This level constitutes an individual difference between people and
represents their “set point” which, in turn, is the level of SWB which homeostasis
seeks to defend.
21.2.5 Normal Ranges
A major implication of homeostasis is that it should be possible to create normal

ranges for the variables that are heavily saturated with HPMood. The most saturated
of these variables is SWB, as argued above. Thus, two kinds of normal range for
SWB can be generated, one for individuals and one for normative groups.
Using the Personal Wellbeing Index for adults (International Wellbeing Group
2006), the current estimation of the SWB normative range for group mean scores,
using the 26 survey mean scores from the Australian Unity Wellbeing Index as data
(Cummins et al. 2011), is from 73.71 to 76.71 points and with an SD of 0.75 points.
When the scores from individuals are used as data, with a sample size of 52,011
respondents, the SD is much larger at 12.42 points. This makes the normal range for
individuals 50.16–99.84, which rather neatly covers the positive half of the 0–100 point
range. So, importantly, no individual adult score should fall below 50 points. If a score
does fall below this level, it is indicative of psychopathology, especially depression.
The 3.0 point normal range for group mean scores has been achieved through the
use of constant methodology and a stable Australian society. When the criteria for
data collection are relaxed, the range naturally expands. Cummins (1995, 1998)
determined that the normal SWB range for survey mean scores in Western nations
is 70–80 points, while the range for a broader set of countries was determined as
60–80 points. This applied equally for single item scales (“satisfaction with life as
a whole”) and multi-domain scales.
Interestingly, the normal range for the Satisfaction with Life Scale (Diener
et al. 1985) is about 5–10 points lower than the above estimates, caused by the
extreme nature of the item wording and the consequential avoidance of the
extreme upper end of the response scale. Numerous studies have shown that the
normal range for this scale is about 65–75 points. For example, survey data
collected by our team in 2004 from a general Australian population sample of
557 respondents produced a mean of 69.4 points. Other results from comparable
cultural groups have been reported by Renn et al. (2009) (Austrian medical
students – 72.0 points); Koo and Oishi (2009) (European American college
students – 67.3); Proctor et al. (2011) (English undergraduate students – 66.1);
and Christopher and Gilbert (2010) (US college students – 62.7 points).
In summary, normal ranges can be established for SWB scales. These are very
important devices because they infer that results lying outside these ranges are
likely to be abnormal.
21.3 The Interface Between Well-Being and Ill-Being
21.3.1 Homeostasis and Resilience
Homeostatic systems can be inherently robust or they can be fragile. To some

extent, this dimension is a product of each person’s constitution, and to some extent,
it is dependent on the defensive resources available to them. In terms of constitu-
tion, this attribute has been studied for many years, commonly under the rubric of
“resilience.” A resilient person is someone who functions normally even in the face
of considerable environmental hardship and challenge. The term applied to children
denotes that they have developed normally despite adverse living conditions.
What allows some people to function in such a robust manner has been much
debated, but it may be simply a function of their HPMood set point. Someone with
642 R.A. Cummins
Dominant Source of SWB Control
Set Homeostasis
Challenging
Defensive range
80
Set
point a
range
70 b
Strong homeostatic defense c
Upper
Threshold Lower
SWB Lower
Threshold
Threshold
50
No Very strong
challenge challenge
Strength of challenging agent
Fig. 21.1 The relationship between negative experience and SWB
a high set point has the advantage that their normal level of SWB is far away from
the “danger zone” of 50 points that signals an increased probability of depression
(see later). Moreover, their high HPMood will enhance extraversion more than
neuroticism, ensuring a socially oriented personality that is likely to garner the
involvement of other people in the person’s life. Thus, their social capital is likely
to be high. In addition, their high set point will deliver a robust sense of self-esteem,
control, and optimism, all of which will ensure a strong buffering system (Cummins
and Nistico 2002).
What, then, is the statistical relationship between the level of objective
resources in people’s lives and their SWB? Almost universally, researchers
assume the relationship to be linear. Necessarily, however, if homeostasis
theory is correct, the linearity assumption is wrong. All homeostatic systems
operate around a threshold. The purpose of such systems is to create relative
stability in whatever variable is being defended. In the current context, the
positive sense of self provided by the HPMood set point is being defended
against challenges created by either internal process (e.g., anxiety) or external
circumstances (e.g., poverty). Thus, it is predicted that the strength of any source
of environmental challenge will relate to SWB in accordance with homeostatic
principles, as shown in Fig. 21.1.
In the absence of major challenges and in the presence of personally enhancing
resources, SWB will lie at the top of its set-point range. This averages about 80–82
points in population samples. In an extensive search for groups with high SWB
conducted through our analyses of the Australian Unity Wellbeing Index data, no
demographically defined group has a mean score that reliably lies above this range
(Cummins et al. 2007a).
As the presence of a challenging agent becomes increasingly evident to aware-
ness, the SWB for each person will move down through its set-point range until it
approximates the bottom of the range. This downward progression will plateau as
homeostatic processes are progressively activated to prevent further decrease. At
about 70 points, on average, these homeostatic processes are fully activated. That is,
even though awareness of the challenge is increasing, homeostasis is “holding the
line” and preventing further change in the level of SWB.
At some higher strength of challenge, however, the capacity of the homeostatic
system is exceeded. At this point, the threshold for homeostatic maintenance is
breached, and control of SWB shifts from the homeostatic system to the challenging
agent. This causes a change in the correlation between SWB and the challenging
agent, from a very weak relationship during effective homeostasis to strong
interdependence as the threshold gives way. A description of this change is provided
in Cummins (2010). As the challenging agent causes well-being to fall, this creates
a progressive increase in the probability of depression. The pathological state of
depression is normally associated with the loss of the positive sense of self (American
Psychiatric Association 2000).
This model predicts a new understanding of the relationship between SWB and
challenging agents. Consider, for example, the situation of rising anxiety. As the
level of anxiety rises, homeostasis attempts to negate the negative relationship with
SWB, as it attempts to keep SWB within its set-point range. Thus, quite marked
increases in anxiety may be accompanied by very little change in SWB.
A demonstration of this using adult data comes from the 6th report of the
Australian Unity Wellbeing Index (Cummins et al. 2003). This survey was
conducted in April 2003, a time of high tension in Australia. Just 6 months before
this survey, a favorite Australian tourist destination in Bali, Indonesia, had suffered
a deadly terrorist attack. On October 12, 2002, bombs detonated in the tourist
district of Kuta killed 202 people, 88 of whom were Australians. It was Australia’s
first introduction to terrorism so close to home.
The data for the 6th survey were collected shortly after the Bali attack. More-
over, at that same time, the war with Iraq was looming, and the seemingly automatic
involvement of Australian troops was a topic of national concern. Indeed, there was
a gap of just 1 week between the end of data collection and the actual invasion. So
during this survey period, the combined Bali aftermath and the looming war were
a strong source of anxiety for many people.
We asked the 2000 respondents “What about the general situation concerning
Iraq? Does this make you feel anxious?” If they answered “yes,” we asked “How
strong would you rate your anxiety [from 0 to 10] about the situation in Iraq?”
A total of 71.7 % respondents said they felt anxious, and almost 25 % of these
people rated their anxiety as 9 or 10. The relationship between the strength of
anxiety and SWB measured through the Personal Wellbeing Index is shown in
Table A10.1 of that report.
644 R.A. Cummins
What these results indicate is no systematic relationship between levels of

anxiety and SWB. Over the range of anxiety strength 3–10, the mean levels of
SWB vary from 73.6 to 75.2, a range of just 1.6 percentage points, and all values lie
within the normal range for group mean scores which is 73.7–76.7 points
(Cummins, et al. 2011).
There are several important principles demonstrated by these results as follows:
1. Levels of anxiety cannot be used as measures of pathology. Whether a specific
level of anxiety causes pathology will depend on several other factors.
2. One important factor is the reason for the anxiety. In the current example, the
anxiety is being expressed in relation to distal matters, either terrorism or war,
neither of which is actually occurring in Australia and so are not part of the
personal life space for most people. If the anxiety was in relation to stuttering in
social interaction, then its influence on SWB would be stronger, but the same
principles of uncertainty in relation to pathology would apply.
3. A second factor is the strength of the homeostatic system to resist change. This
may involve the set point, with higher set points indicating more resilience, and
also the strength of the external and internal buffers to resist change.
21.3.2 Chronic Challenges and Homeostatic Fragility
While the above results demonstrate the lack of linearity between distal anxiety and
SWB, it is also true that any level of chronic challenge to the homeostatic system will
weaken its ability to defend HPMood. The influence of multiple challenges is cumu-
lative, so the chronic daily difficulties caused by, for example, physical disability will
reduce the potential of the homeostatic system to counteract other sources of threat.
Certainly, such challenges are offset by the availability of the individual’s external and
internal resources. If these resources are sufficient to neutralize the additional demands
caused by the disability, the homeostatic system will manage SWB and the person will
experience normal levels of well-being. If the demands exceed the resources, homeo-
stasis will fail, and SWB will lie below the normative range.
In estimating the levels of chronic challenge, often measured as stress, it is
common for researchers to simply add the sources in a linear fashion. This, however,
likely underestimates their combined influence. The presence of one source of
chronic challenge may create an enhanced probability of others. For example,
many people with a disability have a lower income than is age normative, some
have reduced control of the income they do receive, and many will experience more
difficulty than is normal in developing friendships or intimate relationships. These
factors, together with the negative challenge imposed by their disability in negoti-
ating the routines of life, represent a double jeopardy. They have a higher probability
of low external resources and a higher probability of encountering difficulties with
daily living. As a result, their management of SWB will be more tenuous because
their homeostatic systems will be under constant pressure. While this does not imply
widespread homeostatic failure, it does imply that people with a disability likely
have reduced capacity to deal with unexpected negative experiences.
21.3.3 Mental Health and Well-Being
As described in the introduction to this chapter, mental health is a very poor

descriptive term for two reasons. First, it implies that psychological health is simply
the absence of psychopathology (mental ill-health). So it encourages the assump-
tion that the absence of stress, depression, etc., implies that someone is “mentally
healthy.” While this conception has strong validity within the realm of physical
medicine, it is simply wrong when applied to subjective well-being. The prior
descriptions of SWB homeostasis make it clear that it is perfectly normal, and no
doubt necessary, to live with certain levels of “psychopathology” (e.g., stress) and
for this to be non-pathological as long as homeostasis is ascendant. One true
measure of psychopathology is homeostatic failure and the loss of a sense of
positive well-being.
21.4 Subjective Well-Being and Children
The importance of studying subjective well-being in children, in conjunction with

the traditional study of psychopathology, is in harmony with preventive approaches
to promoting mental health (Spence 1996). Primary prevention aims to reduce the
incidence of psychopathology by intervention prior to the onset of disorders. As
such, it requires knowledge of the factors which predict entry into dysfunctional
pathways (risk factors) as well as those that support the normal homeostatic
maintenance of well-being (resilience factors). Such knowledge is particularly
important when the risk factors are not easily amenable to change, such as family
breakup, poverty, and early childhood temperament. Moreover, understanding the
normal (subjective well-being) is essential to informing the abnormal and vice
versa (Cicchetti and Cohen 1995). Hence, the investigation of SWB homeostasis is
not only important in its own right, it is also fundamental to understanding the
development and treatment of pathology in children.
Many psychological disorders, particularly the more common anxiety disorders,
emerge in late childhood or early adolescence (Dadds et al. 1997). Moreover, unless
treated, they tend to remain stable throughout adolescence and are associated with
a range of psychosocial impairments and significant distress (Milne et al. 1995).
Not surprisingly, therefore, the preadolescent and adolescent years have received
substantial research attention in relation to psychopathology, but far less in relation
to subjective well-being.
In this context, SWB is important because of its nonlinear relationship with
challenging agents (see Sect. 21.2) and its predictive power in relation to depres-
sion. Moreover, understanding the empirical nature of these relationships is facil-
itated by understanding the processes of homeostasis. But do the same discovered
properties of SWB homeostasis apply to children? The following sections will
examine this issue even while acknowledging a crucial caveat, which is limitations
imposed by the process of maturation. The internal homeostatic buffers are all
highly involving of cognition, and therefore, there are going to be age limitations to
646 R.A. Cummins
the extent that they become available to children. In particular, secondary control
(Rothbaum, et al. 1982) only gradually becomes available to children as they age
from early school age to adolescence (Altshuler and Ruble 1989; Band 1990;
Marriage and Cummins 2004). Thus, it would be expected that homeostatic control
would not reach full strength until adolescence, at least.
A similar maturational issue is raised by the measurement of SWB itself. The
questions used for this purpose are quite abstract (see PWI) and so clearly not
understandable to young children thinking in concrete terms. One possible way to
counter this is to make the measurement scale questions more concrete, with
a simpler response format.
21.4.1 Measuring SWB in Children
A precursor to the Personal Wellbeing Index was the Comprehensive Quality of

Life Scale (ComQol: Cummins 1997b). In 1999, Gullone and Cummins collected
data using this adult scale from a sample of 264 school-based adolescents aged
between 12 and 18 years. They found that the scale yielded SWB data that lay
within the normative range for adults. Moreover, test-retest reliability and internal
consistency were adequate and, in support of convergent validity, fear and anxiety
were generally found associated with lower levels of SWB. The authors concluded
that the psychometric properties of the ComQol are adequate to measure the SWB
of adolescents.
However, in 2002, the ComQol was substantially revised to improve various
aspects of its functioning (http://www.deakin.edu.au/research/acqol/instruments/)
and the Personal Wellbeing Index – Adult was created in its place. The PWI –
School Children (PWI-SC: Cummins and Lau 2005) has been specifically
constructed as a child version of the adult scale. Changes to the scale involve
simplified wording and a reduced number of response points.
In terms of its psychometric properties, the PWI-SC factors as intended (Tomyn
and Cummins 2011b). However, results on the domain contributions to GLS for
adolescents are mixed. Using the PWI for adults and a pooled sample of 1,952
Spanish and 940 Romanian adolescents, Casas et al. (2009a) found that all 7
domains contributed unique variance to the prediction of GLS. However, Austra-
lian data, based on the PWI-SC, only partly confirmed this result. Using a smaller
sample (N ¼ 351), Tomyn and Cummins (2011b) found that the domain of relation-
ships failed to make a unique contribution to GLS. This is a curious result given that
the well-being of adolescents is no less dependent than adults on the availability of
supportive relationships. It is possible that this may reflect inadequate statistical
power due to small sample size.
A further major difference from adult PWI results concerns the domain of safety.
In adults, this domain fails to make a unique contribution in Australia and is only
retained because it does so in other countries (International Wellbeing Group 2006).
However, for the adolescents in the Tomyn and Cummins (2011b) study, the
domain of safety contributed a significant 2 % unique variance. These results
may indicate that the relative contributions of the domains to GLS are not equiv-
alent for adults and adolescents.
Despite these cautions, the PWI-SC appears to yield data that are comparable to
those from the adult scale. Due to maturational limitations, however, it is not
recommended for children under the age of 12 years. How, then, to measure SWB in
younger children is a problem that some researchers solve through proxy responding.
21.4.2 Proxy Responding
Proxy responding, or providing answers for another person, seems intuitively

sensible in circumstances where the child cannot validly respond for themselves
due to immaturity. In such situations, proxy responses are commonly sought from
one of the child’s parents. While such parental responses may well be reliable when
the topic of the information is objective (e.g., “Does Trixy get out of the house
much with her friends?”), both reliability and validity plummet when the informa-
tion being sought is subjective. This has been systematically documented in relation
to children and adolescents, where two reviews have concluded that proxies cannot
be reliably substituted for self-reports either in relation to behavioral/emotional
problems (Achenbach et al. 1987) or the feelings experienced by children with
disabilities (Yuker 1988).
Results presented within the Achenbach et al. (1987) review are instructive. The
studies they accessed were restricted to the behavioral/emotional problems of
children and adolescents. The proxy responses had been provided by parents
(N ¼ 11 studies), teachers (N ¼ 17), mental health workers (N ¼ 6), and peers
(N ¼ 20). The mean correlations (Pearson’s r), within each of these groups between
proxy and self-reports, were .25, .20, .27, and .26, respectively. Very similar results
are reported by Cummins (2002) in a review of eight studies reporting subjective
proxy data for children/adolescents (mean r ¼ .24). Using Cohen’s (1977) criteria
for effect sizes, correlations from .10 to .29 represent small degrees of association.
This implies that such proxy data could not validly be used as a substitute for self-
reports.
The review by Cummins (2002) is more wide-ranging. It examines data covering
many different situations where proxy responses have been used because
a judgment has been made by the assessors that reliable subjective data are unable
to be provided by the person themselves. Across all of these situations, no evidence
was found supporting this as a valid technique and several reasons were advanced.
These include the obvious fact that the proxy has no direct access to the required
information and so must rely on indirect cues and personal knowledge about the
target person, all of which are inherently unreliable for such a purpose. Further,
systematic personal biases in relation to making subjective evaluative estimates for
other people make it virtually impossible for proxies to make disinterested judg-
ments. For these and other reasons discussed in this review, it is concluded that the
process of proxy responding in relation to SWB is inherently flawed and should not
be used.
648 R.A. Cummins
21.4.3 The Normal Range of SWB for Children
When children provide their own SWB data, the most basic issue of comparability
with adult data is the normal range. If, as proposed, this range is primarily
determined through the distribution of HPMood set points, then the distribution
should not differ between adults and adolescents because the determination of each
set point is proposed to be under genetic control. So, if the normal range for children
and adolescents was found to be substantially different from that of adults, then
there are two possibilities. One is that the two age groups are responding to the
items in fundamentally different ways. The other is the identification of some
agency which is exerting an age-related, systematic influence on SWB.
It is unlikely that such an agency would cause the chronic SWB of adolescents to
rise above the adult range, since adaptation so predictably reduces the response to
abnormally positive experiences (Helson 1964). However, a challenging agent
could certainly maintain the SWB of children below the adult range, as long as
the agent was strongly felt and persistent.
From the perspective of homeostasis theory, the presence of a persistent, chal-
lenging agent would be apparent from an examination of the sample variance. Take
first the situation of a positive challenge in the form of an effective intervention of
some kind. If such an agent is applied to a group of children who are already
experiencing normal-range SWB, then while the agent may enhance group resil-
ience, it will not cause a major shift in SWB. This is because rapid adaptation will
return SWB to its normal range. If, on the other hand, such a positive agent is
applied to a disadvantaged sample of children, who have a maintained level of
SWB that is below normal range, then the agent may have a dramatic effect to
increase SWB back into its normal range. If this occurred, then raising the mean
SWB would be associated with a reduced within-sample variance, as the tail of the
distribution was brought into the normal range.
The presence of a negative challenging agent will exert the opposite effect. At
low levels of challenge, homeostasis will hold the line and no dramatic shift in
SWB will be observed. However, if the level of challenge exceeds homeostatic
capacity for some children, their SWB will fall and the within-sample variance will
expand, reflecting a higher proportion of the sample experiencing homeostatic
defeat.
How, then, do the sample variances between children and adults compare? In
Australia (see Sect. 21.2.5), the normal range for sample mean scores for adults has
been determined as from 73.71 to 76.71 points. Confirmation that this range
approximates that for children comes from young children, aged 5–10 years,
assessed using a scale developed for people who have an intellectual disability
(Com-Qol-15; Cummins 1997a). Marriage and Cummins (2004) reported SWB
values of 74.98 and 78.95 points, for younger and older children, respectively. For
samples of children aged 12–18 years, similar results have been found from Spain
(Casas et al. 2008: mean 14.1 years; 79.1 points) and Australia (Tomyn and
Cummins 2011a, b; 15.7 and 16.7 years; 74.7 and 73.6 points, respectively).
These are reasonable approximations to the adult range.
21.4.4 The Composition of SWB for Children
While the mean SWB scores seem comparable, this does not indicate validity.
A major issue for the validity of the PWI-SC is whether the domains form
a coherent scale and whether they are sufficient to reasonably represent the con-
struct of SWB in children. After all, the scale was designed for adult views of the
construct, and these may well not parallel the views of children.
In terms of factorial composition, it is apparent that the PWI factors as intended
when used with adolescents (Casas et al. 2011b; Casas et al. 2007a) as does also the
PWI-SC (Tomyn and Cummins 2011b). However, the equivalence of some of the
domains is questionable.
The domain of “productivity” is problematic in this regard. The adult version of
the scale is intended for the dimension of adult experience which may comprise
paid work, family care, volunteer activities, engaging hobbies, or any other activity
the adult feels is consistent with their views of being productive. Children, how-
ever, are generally bereft of these activities, with their lives outside the home
dominated by the institution called “school,” which provides them with a quite
different experience. Attending school, and even the process of learning new
information, may not be viewed by children as a “productive” activity (see
Tomyn and Cummins 2011b). Rather, it may be categorized, for example, as
a social activity and so viewed by children quite differently.
When students engage with peers and teachers in a meaningful way, they are
likely to elicit feedback, either positive or negative, in return. Ongoing interactions
then tend to reinforce specific expectations and behaviors, which lay the founda-
tions for each individual’s unique school experience, which forms part of their
subjective life quality. Tomyn and Cummins (2011b) tested this proposition by
including “school satisfaction” as an additional domain in the PWI-SC. And, sure
enough, it contributed an additional 1.0 % unique variance to the prediction of GLS
beyond the existing seven domains. It thereby qualified to be considered as an
additional domain for the scale.
As verification that the children were regarding this new domain as a high-level
conceptual structure, it was also shown that a four-item scale, to measure the
deconstructed form of school satisfaction, could be constructed along the same
lines as for the PWI. Satisfaction with the items “teachers,” “behavior,” “abilities,”
and “safety” accounted for 52 % of the variance in school satisfaction.
21.4.5 The Role of HPMood for Children
Within adult samples, the structure of SWB is dominated by HPMood, as has been
shown. So, if the role of HPMood is as primitive and universal as has been
suggested, it should have a similar relationship to SWB, personality, and other
variables, as has been found for adults.
In a study aiming to partially replicate Davern et al. (2007) with a sample of
Australian adolescents, Tomyn and Cummins (2011a) found the adjectives happy
650 R.A. Cummins
(pleasant), content (pleasant), and alert (activated), when combined to create

HPMood, explained 57 % of the variance in SWB. This proportion of variance
accounted for is roughly consistent with findings using adult data (Blore et al.
2011 – 68 %; Davern et al. 2007 – 56 %) in the presence of multiple other variables.
Tomyn and Cummins (2011a) also tested again the three structural equation
models in which HPMood, personality, or multiple discrepancies were each
allowed to drive the combined relationship with SWB. Consistent with Davern
et al. (2007) and Blore et al. (2011), the affectively driven model was the best fitting
accounting for 80 % of the variance. Moreover, their model-fit statistics indicated
a particularly poor fit for the personality-driven model. This challenges a large body
of research, cited earlier, which states that personality drives SWB. Rather, these
results indicate that most of the shared variance between personality and SWB
comes from HPMood. A similar conclusion is made in respect of MDT. Taken
together, these results confirm HPMood as the major component of SWB and
suggest that, just as with adults, the relationship between personality and SWB
and between MDT and SWB, in data from adolescents, is mainly due to the
variance contributed by HPMood.
21.4.6 Correlates of SWB in Children
Another form of validity (AER, American Educational Research Association,

American Psychological Association, and National Council on Measurement in
Education 1999) is the way in which the SWB, as measured by the PWI-SC,
correlates with other variables. If the yielded SWB operates in the same way within
adults and children, then the relationships between SWB and other variables should
be similar. And, indeed, this appears to be the case. Adolescents’ life satisfaction
has been reported to correlate positively with internal locus of control, self-esteem,
and extraversion and negatively with anxiety, neuroticism, depressive symptom-
atology, and stress (Dew and Huebner 1994; Heaven 1989; Hong et al. 1993;
Huebner 1991; Leung and Leung 1992). Similarly, SWB has been found to be
inversely related to loneliness, social anxiety, and shyness, while being positively
related to self-esteem, social acceptance, attachment, self-efficacy, psychological
maturity, low impulsivity, and physical attractiveness (Hawkins et al. 1992;
Marriage and Cummins 2004; Neto 1993).
In terms of the operation of the homeostatic system itself, the three putative
buffers of self-esteem, perceived control, and optimism are all highly correlated
with one another in adults (Sanna 1996; Scheier and Carver 1985; Shepperd et al.
1996), leading to the proposition that, in addition to buffering SWB, they also
buffer one another. The child data also show similar relationships. For example,
locus of control and self-esteem have been found significantly correlated in a child/
adolescent sample (Casas et al., 2007b; Enger et al. 1994), as does primary control.
However, secondary control (Rothbaum, et al. 1982) has a changing relationship
with child SWB as the control construct matures through early childhood (Marriage
and Cummins 2004).
In conclusion, it can reasonably be deduced that the relationships between SWB

and other variables, determined through the use of child data, are similar to those
found in adults. Moreover, given the caveat of maturational effects for secondary
control, the three buffers appear to be similarly functionally linked for both age
groups.
21.4.7 The Sensitivity of SWB Measurement in Children
A final form of measurement equivalence between the two age groups is the
sensitivity of SWB to various influences. Due to homeostatic control, demographic
factors generally have only a weak influence on adult SWB (Cummins, et al. 2011).
Similarly, studies with adolescents have typically also found only a weak associ-
ation between SWB and demographic variables (Burke and Weir 1978; Huebner
1991; Man 1991).
Despite this weak overall trend, adult levels of SWB are predictable
influenced by various demographic factors to the extent that statistically reliable
differences can be detected. The comparability sensitivity of child data will now
be examined.
21.4.7.1 Gender
The presence and direction of a gender difference in adults is highly variable. It
seems to differ between countries, and even within a stable Western country as
Australia, it varies considerably. Over the 26 surveys of the Australian Unity
Wellbeing Index (Cummins, et al. 2011), 15 surveys (58 %) have shown significantly
higher SWB for females, 1 (4 %) has shown higher SWB for males, and 10 (38 %)
have shown no gender difference. Thus, while the presence of an adult gender
difference is unreliable, when it does occur, it favors higher well-being in females.
In a sample of young Australian children (5–10 years), Marriage and Cummins
(2004) found no gender differences in SWB. In samples of older Australian
adolescents (Tomyn and Cummins 2011b), SWB was higher among females
(76.09 points) than males (71.09). These trends are in accordance with the pattern
of adult data.
21.4.7.2 Age
The well-being of adults, where data are collected through population surveys,
commonly shows a statistically reliable sensitivity to age. When it is found, the
relationship is U-shaped; such well-being is highest in early adulthood, drops in
middle age, and then rises after the age of about 55 years. The cause of this change
is the lower well-being of some middle-age people who find their resources
insufficient to deal with the combined demands of children, a mortgage, and
work. When the partner resources are sufficient to meet these demands, this
middle-age decrease does not occur (see Fig. 5.11 in Cummins et al. 2011). That
is, the middle-age decrease in SWB is mainly confined to people living without
a partner.
652 R.A. Cummins
Such systematic age differences in relationship support will not normally be

present for children. However, many adolescents will experience different forms of
systematic age-related challenges, which increase in intensity as they move through
the adolescent period. Adolescence is commonly experienced as stressful due to the
biosocial changes associated with puberty, changes in schools as students move
between primary and secondary education, concerns about belonging and
conforming to peer pressure, and familial relationships that are often undergoing
transformations (Steinberg 1993). They also face greater schoolwork pressures in
their final years of secondary school or face the uncertainty of employment and
starting a career. It is therefore reasonable to expect that homeostatic maintenance
will be increasingly challenged through the adolescent period, and this is confirmed
by abundant evidence.
One of the most important markers of psychopathology is depressed mood, and
this is commonly found in later adolescence (e.g., Greenberger and Chen 1996).
Indeed, it occurs more often in adolescence than at any other time of life (Steinberg
1993), contributed by hormonal changes with the onset of puberty (Susan et al.
1991). The incidence of general mental health problems also rises during the
adolescent period (Keyes 2006). So it is hardly surprising to find that these findings
are paralleled by decreasing SWB through adolescence. It has been reported that
child well-being decreases between 12 and 18 years in both Spain (Casas et al.
2007b; Casas et al. 2009c) and other Latin-speaking countries (Casas et al. 2011a),
in Romania (Casas et al. 2009a), and also in Australia (Petito and Cummins 2000;
Tomyn and Cummins 2011b).
The implications of decreasing well-being through adolescence are shown
through the relationship between mental health, satisfaction at school, and subjec-
tive well-being (e.g., Baker 1999; Huebner et al. 1999; Jin and Moon 2006). Quite
clearly, difficulties with mental health are associated with difficulties in scholastic
achievement and social development.
21.4.7.3 Disability
A further challenge to homeostatic control is evident in children who have
a disability. However, children display remarkable resilience under most such
circumstances, and this is most particularly so if the disability is congenital.
Because the presence of the disability is the only life experience such children
have known, their level of adaptation to the limitations imposed by their circum-
stance is strong. This resilience is strongest if the financial and emotional resources
are sufficient to support the child in those aspects of their life made challenging by
the condition itself.
Most obvious in this regard are children who have a congenital physical disabil-
ity. The child’s physical needs in relation to their disability are obvious and can be
met by prostheses of one kind or another. Moreover, in such circumstances, most
children will learn how to integrate and socialize with other children, so their
measured SWB will be normal. However, there are other forms of congenital
disability which have high potential to disrupt normal experience and for which
prostheses may not be available. An example is language impairment.
One of the most demanding and necessary skills for children to learn is effective
communication with people outside their family (Mulcahy et al. 2008). Such
interactions are necessary as a means for children to get to know one another
through the subtly of inferred meaning and mutual sharing of values. Obviously,
this process is disrupted when a child has expressive language impairment. They
may experience chronic frustration when others react negatively to the nature of
their speech (Klompas and Ross 2004) and thereby attend more to the manner of
their speaking than the message it is intended to carry (O’Keefe 1996). Such severe
difficulties may impose a level of challenge that defeats homeostatic control.
Depending on the severity of the disability and the character of the person, this
has the potential to exert a negative influence on life quality throughout the life
cycle. Children tend to avoid perceived deviance in others. So it is no surprise to
find that children who exhibit behavioral deviance are likely to experience exclu-
sion, even victimization. This problem has been well documented in relation to both
young children (Baldwin 1958; Heiman and Margalit 1998; Williams and Asher
1992) and adolescents (Brown and Timmons 1994; Hornby and Kidd 2001; van
Riper 1971). Interpersonal rejection then predisposes these children to the devel-
opment of personality disorders (Iverach et al. 2009) and psychopathology (for
reviews see Deater-Deckard 2001; Hawker and Boulton 2002). If these difficulties
persist, then the social anxiety may cause children to underperform at school (Peters
and Guitar 1991).
In adulthood, fluency disorders, for example, may harm employment opportu-
nities (Klein and Hood 2004) as well as continuing to create relational difficulties
(Ross 2001). Moreover, severe childhood language difficulties are associated with
adult differences in objective life quality. Arkkila et al. (2008) followed up Finnish
children who had received a hospital diagnosis of specific language impairment.
They had normal nonverbal intelligence but below-normal verbal intelligence at the
time of diagnosis. At the age of 34 years, compared with the general population,
they were more likely to live with their parents and to have a pension. While only
a few reported having literacy problems, over 40 % had difficulty in finding words
and remembering instructions. Thus, remnants of their early language impairment
persisted.
In summary, while most forms of congenital disability allow adaptation with
appropriate support, some forms of disability that strongly impact social relation-
ships are more difficult to manage. Thus, children have specific areas of vulnera-
bility as they mature, and the profile of the PWI domains can assist to identify such
areas in situations where SWB is being threatened.
21.4.8 Life Domains
Within the general population, there are subgroups of adults and children who
exhibit particular vulnerabilities. While poverty and family violence exert
a common negative influence on people no matter what their age, some domains,
such as safety, gain special relevance for both adults and children. Under such
654 R.A. Cummins
conditions, the selective depression of some domains can be diagnostic of the

dominant form of the challenge to homeostasis. One of these is the domain
“achieving in life.”
There are several subgroups of adults who suffer low satisfaction with this life
area. People who are unemployed are an obvious example. But children may exhibit
a special vulnerability due to their common experience of attending school. Rather
disturbingly, Tomyn and Cummins (2011b) found that the PWI domain of “achiev-
ing in life” was below the adult range. Low satisfaction with this domain may
indicate that the school curriculum is failing to meet these children’s developmental
needs.
A second domain of interest in this regard is spirituality/religion. This domain
was only introduced into the adult scale in the 4th edition of the manual (2006), and
its inclusion has been problematic in that about 45 % of respondents in Australia say
they do not have this dimension in their life (Cummins, et al. 2011). Moreover,
while, for believers, spirituality/religion fulfills the requirements for a PWI domain,
it is very weakly connected to the other domains, indicating it may be representing
a different construct.
Casas et al. (2009a) find similar results both in Spain and Romania and also
evidence of changing emphasis between spirituality and religion during adoles-
cence (Casas et al. 2009b). These authors recommend that the two constructs be
separately measured and investigated rather than being combined into a single
domain. While this suggestion requires earnest consideration, it also adds yet
another domain to the scale.
In summary, studying the pattern of domain satisfaction levels can be quite
diagnostic in terms of identifying the major sources of challenge for children. It
may also be wise, at this stage of scale development, to omit the spirituality/religion
domain for children.
21.5 The Relevance of Homeostasis for Parents
The final topic to be addressed in this chapter is parental well-being. Pretty

obviously, the well-being of most children is highly dependent on the well-being
of their parents and, indeed, of the whole family. The theory of SWB homeostasis
gives insights into this crucial topic.
As has been described, two of the major external resources available to parents
are household income and partner support. In Fig. 21.2, taken from Cummins et al.
(2011), adult SWB is mapped against various levels of both resources. It is evident
that the best household composition for adult SWB is living only with a partner.
Even the lowest household income allows couples, on average, to maintain normal-
range SWB. Moreover, due to the genetically imposed ceiling, their SWB rises only
marginally with increasing financial resources, changing only 3.7 percentage points
over the entire income range.
The situation is more volatile when children are added to the household.
Children drain parental resources, and this compromises the SWB of adults living
82 81.5
81
80 79.2 79.9
78.6
79 77.8
Strength of satisfaction (PWI)
77.8 78.8
78 78.9
77 76.2 78.1 76.7
76 74.6 76.8 Normative
75 75.6 75.8 Range
74 74.6
73 73.7
72 72.7
71 71.8
70
69 69.8
68
67 67.7 Partner only
66
65 Partner & children
64
63 63.5 Sole parent
62
<$15 $15-$30 $31-$60 $61-$100 $101-$150 $151-$250 $251-$500
Household Income ($'000)
Fig. 21.2 Income x household composition: Personal Wellbeing Index (combined surveys)
with them when the gross annual income of the household is less than AU$31,000.
For sole parents, the situation is even more extreme, and it is well known that single
mothers are more prone to depression than mothers with a partner (Cairney et al.
2003). At the lowest income, the mean of 64.1 points for single parents indicates in
no uncertain terms that additional resources are required. Moreover, while partners
plus children enter the normal range at $31,000–$60,000, sole parents require
$61,000–$90,000. This is because the sole parents are missing the partner support
resource and require more income support to compensate.
21.6 Summary
The overall conclusion from this chapter is that the construct of SWB appears to be
reliable, sensitive, and valid for children. It can be measured using the Personal
Wellbeing Index – School Children, the normal range appears similar to that for
adults, the validity of the scale appears as strong as the adult version, and the
composition of SWB is dominated by HPMood, just as it is for adults. The caveat to
all of this is that children must have the cognitive maturity to provide their self-
report data. While the age at which they gain such competence is variable, a rough
guide seems to be 12 years. In summary, the measurement of SWB for children over
12 years is recommended as an index which informs about whether they are
experiencing normal circumstances for development. When such data are
interpreted using the theory of SWB homeostasis, they provide crucial understand-
ing of the balances between challenges and supports during this formative period of
their lives.
Acknowledgment I thank Ann-Marie James for her assistance in the preparation of this chapter.
656 R.A. Cummins
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Sociology: Societal Structure, Development
of Childhood, and the Well-Being of 22
Children
Jens Qvortrup
22.1 The Near Absence of Social Studies of Childhood
Until a few decades ago, sociology failed to indicate any interest in childhood. By
and large, the individual child as studied by developmental psychology had been
the sole object of research for more than a century, and since way back in history,
the child has been the center of attention and concern among ordinary people.
Before the occurrence of massive scientific interest in the child around the turn
to the twentieth century (see most recently Turmel 2008), the focus on and
responsiveness to offspring was largely a matter of the survival of the family, the
locality, and/or the community. Contrary to what is currently the case, there was an
outspoken awareness in each and every economic unit (a family, a farm, a village)
that without the reproduction of new generations, without successors to produce
food (in short, without children), the prevailing economic unit would be in danger
of withering away. In a sense, therefore, this interest did not center upon the child as
such; it had in mind, rather, a future workforce outside or inside the house shaped
by the characteristic traditional division of labor between women and men. This is
not to say that the child was merely of instrumental interest: indeed, as historians
have demonstrated, parents and in particular mothers have always cared for their
children (see discussions with various emphases in, for instance, Ariès (1962),
Pollock (1983), Shorter (1975), Stone (1975), and deMause (1974)).
This mundane interest was not aimed at achieving scientific insight into the child,
let alone into childhood; a pure scientific interest appeared much later, without,
though, abandoning a forward-looking interest. In fact, pedagogical science (or art,
perhaps) displays such an interest as its main rationale. The distance from a pedagogy
understood as the art of upbringing to a scientific interest in the broader phenomenon
J. Qvortrup
Department of Sociology and Political Science, Norwegian University of Science and Technology,
Trondheim, Norway

664 J. Qvortrup
of socialization is short, and it is probably correct to say that no child-related feature

has caught the interest of sociologists so much as socialization has. In this sense,
sociology – with a particular view to saving or strengthening the social order – has
been as forward-looking as pedagogy and not least developmental psychology
(generally seen as the ruling science of the child), with its claim to administer
a so far unrivaled scientific rigor in dealing with the child and its development.
What thus appears to unite the various more or less scientific approaches to
coming to terms with the child or with childhood is their forward-looking aspect or
anticipatory perspective, which has left the periodic stage of childhood as
a preparatory stage without pretentions, demands, or claims in its own right. The
omission until recently of sociology and other related disciplines which claim to
cover a broader context left a gap that was partly filled by political and cultural
interests of Marxist or social democratic provenance, such as Ellen Key (1900),
Otto R€ uhle (1911, 1925), Otto Felix Kanitz (1925), and Walter Benjamin (1929),
who provided a much needed contextualization of children’s life worlds (for a very
useful overview, see Andresen 2006). No doubt they were preoccupied
with “socialist upbringing,” but they also took an engaged interest in poor and
proletarian children’s lives in the here and now. They shared a moral commitment
with child savers in many countries, and yet there were worlds between their
outlooks (see in particular Platt 2009, Introduction to second edition).
After a mind-boggling delay, in the 1980s or perhaps even in the late 1970s, the
gap was eventually addressed by a number of scholars under the banner of “the new
sociology of childhood.” As suggested and demonstrated by, for instance, available
handbooks or encyclopedias, they were not supported by a strong social scientific
legacy. At the time – in the 1980s – the easiest accessible encyclopedia on these topics
was the still relatively recent edition of the International Encyclopaedia of the Social
Sciences, which had appeared a decade before (Sills 1968–1979). There was, alas, not
much help that a searching mind could obtain from this eighteen-volume work. There
were no entries for “child,” “children,” or “childhood” pure and simple, merely
entries for “child development” and “child psychiatry.” The latter simply said, “see
under psychiatry,” while the former was slightly richer in words, while saying, “see
developmental psychology; intellectual development; moral development; sensory
and motor development; and the biographies of Gesell; Hall; Montessori” (Sills 1968,
vol. II, p. 390). These few words were not helpful, to say the least, and given that they
were taken from a social science encyclopedia, the result was shameful: the idea that
childhood could be perceived sociologically, let alone in structural terms, was simply
not available. Nothing told us, however, that we could expect anything better.
The seminal article by Anne-Marie Ambert is a testimony to that; she wrote in
1986 about the “near absence” of children in North American sociology and found
that they hardly had any place there. Despite the geographically restrictive title, she
helpfully included a number of European classical sociologists, represented by
works translated into English (Comte, Marx, Pareto, Weber, Durkheim, Simmel),
besides giants from the USA such as Mead, Parsons, and Merton. In addition, she
chose seventeen sociology textbooks published between 1971 and 1983 and eight
sociological journals – six general and two special ones (Journal of Marriage and
22 Sociology 665
Family and Sociology of Education, it is going without saying that sociological

journals on childhood did not (yet) exist). She looked for textbooks on the sociology
of childhood and finally expressed an interest in knowing whether any courses on
childhood were being offered at sociology departments in the USA and Canada.
Fearing to underreport representations of children and childhood, she was generous
in her demarcations, for instance, by including “pages discussing socialization and
other concepts that used children as a vehicle rather than focused on children
themselves” (Ambert 1986, p. 14).
The results of Ambert’s analysis explain why the representation of children and
childhood in the Encyclopaedia from the 1970s was so meager: there was hardly
anything to report on. By and large, childhood has been ignored by the classics,
marginalized by textbook authors, and overlooked by general sociological journals.
Even worse, the two special journals in which one might have expected to find
something completely disregarded children. In the Journal of Marriage and the
Family, only 3.6% of the articles had anything to say about children; in Sociology
of Education, the percentage was 6.6. One wonders what such journals were
writing about.
Among the classics, however, there was one issue which unduly – as “the new
paradigm” would argue – raised the representation of children, namely, the issue of
socialization. Thus, Durkheim and Parsons increased their “interest” in children;
the question is, however, whether this was a “focus on children themselves” or
rather a discussion which “used children as a vehicle,” as Ambert noted. This
remark was very much in line with the criticism leveled by “the new childhood
paradigm,” and both Durkheim and Parsons were extremely traditional in their view
on children. Parsons has been rightly criticized (see Jenks 1982; James et al. 1998),
and Durkheim deserved the same assessment1.
The representation of children and childhood in Sills’ edited encyclopedia was the
low point. The sequel edition from the beginning of this century (Smelser and Baltes
2001) – let me just mention it here in passing, even though it was not available in the
1980s as a reference work to scrutinize – had many more entries (easily retrievable
due to our electronic equipment), but by and large, the editors had not discovered
“the new paradigm” or “social studies of childhood” and remained basically psy-
chological and forward-looking. The forerunner, however, from the early 1930s
(Seligman 1930–1933) was very different, partly because it left considerable space
for the entry “Child” – 57 double column pages – and partly because, perhaps
typically for the time, the issue was dealt with in what we might call social policy
terms (for a similar situation in Germany, see Mierendorff 2010, p. 240, footnote).
The entry covered twelve themes, which, in addition to child psychology (written by
Gesell), were the following: child welfare, child hygiene, child mortality, child
guidance, child marriage, dependent children, neglected children, delinquent chil-
dren, institutions for the care of children, child labor, and child welfare legislation. It
is true that this encyclopedia also included some forward-looking perspectives (child
psychology, child guidance), but first of all, it was marked by a concern for children’s
welfare in surroundings of economic depression, austerity, and unemployment2. Not
much suggests, however, that this early encyclopedia was known or inspected by
666 J. Qvortrup
representatives of the new paradigm of childhood, and its contribution to theorizing

childhood was slim. From a social policy point of view, it might still have
a considerable historical interest, not least for scholars and practitioners concerned
with children’s well-being.
22.2 The Emergence of Social Studies of Childhood
The 1980s, more or less, is arguably the foundational decade as far as the “child-
hood paradigm in sociology” or “social studies of childhood” were concerned,
a view reiterated by the interesting fact that similar ideas to the same effect cropped
up in different parts of the world (see Hardman, [1973] 2001; Hengst 1981; Jenks
1982; Corsaro 1985; Qvortrup 1985; Thorne 1987; see also Preuss-Lausitz et al.
1983). What were these ideas, which we suggest are loosely similar while at the
same time differing from conventional child research?
1. The socialization critique. Prevalent and significant was criticism of the
forward-looking, anticipatory perspective, which, it was largely felt, was that
held by psychologists and sociologists alike. It may indeed be argued that the
anyway small number of critical psychologists (Dreitzel 1973; Richards 1974;
Woodhead 1990 and 2009) were more numerous than the sociologists who took
up the new positions. Yet, individual courses toward maturity – a child’s devel-
opment into an adult – were arguably a defining characteristic of the develop-
mental psychologists’ metier. This marks a difference from sociologists, the
majority of whom did not take an interest in childhood at all, while those who did
typically chose their forward-looking perspective in terms of a socialization
model.
The critique of anticipation amounted in more positive terms to talking about
children in their own right or about childhood in its own right. There is no
necessity, it was argued, in invoking the futurity of children (i.e., their future
being as adults) for us to study them. In one of the first programmatic articles to
go beyond a psychological orientation, the anthropologist Charlotte Hardman
suggested that childhood be accepted as “a self-regulating, autonomous world
which does not necessarily reflect early development of adult culture” (Hardman
[1973] 2001, p. 504). This is not supposed to mean that children or childhood can
stand alone without reference to other categories. On the contrary, as we shall
see later, we need a comparative perspective in structural terms, that is,
a generational perspective, which requires an analysis of generational segments
that in principle are of the same order and significance. Socialization and
individual development are not only forward-looking, they are looking forward
to something that is putatively more important and competent. “Socialization”
and “development” are, in sociologist Barrie Thorne’s words, “ahistorical,
individualist, and teleological” (Thorne 1985, p. 696). Childhood is reduced to
a preparatory stage, deprived of any value in itself.
2. Agency and voice for children. Part and parcel of the critique of the socialization
approach was criticism that children’s capabilities were being overlooked. It was
22 Sociology 667
typically pointed out by representatives of the new paradigm that children in

conventional research were either not seen as sufficiently capable or competent
to contribute or were prevented from taking part in “serious” activities. This was
in accordance with, it was often held, typical psychological schemes of “ages
and stages” according to which children will eventually acquire skills that enable
them to be partners. As a consequence, children were basically seen as vulner-
able persons in need of protection on their journey toward adulthood. This
discussion was an important one which had both historical and contemporary
references under the heading of protection and participation. Are children here
first of all to be protected or do we – adults – allow them also to be participants?
We find this issue very clearly in discussions on the United Nations Convention
on the Rights of the Child (UNCRC), which includes significant articles
about children’s right to protection but perhaps much more significantly – and
new – also granted them participatory rights.3
Nobody would agree that children are literally passive and silent. However,
this is exactly a claim which one can make metaphorically. Children are not
allowed entry into the serious social fabric; they are given voice – including in
the UNCRC – but merely in matters concerning themselves very personally;
they are minors in both the legal and sociological meanings (on childhood as
a minority category, see below).
3. Structural constraints and opportunities. At the same time as children are
recognized as agents with a voice, some scholars of social studies of childhood
have insisted on perceiving childhood from a structural perspective. Children are
born not only with certain endowments – biologically, psychologically, and
intellectually – they are also born into a structural context which to a large
extent determines limits to their actions and voice. I am happy to underline the
words “to a large extent” in order to leave space for children’s own impact and
imprint on their broader or narrower contexts – be it family, school, locality, or
society. Sociologist William Corsaro (2009, and ▶ Chap. 23, “Children’s Well-
Being and Interpretive Reproduction,” this volume) has usefully coined the
phrase “interpretive reproduction” to suggest children’s contributing potential
or indeed the fact that they are contributing. The structural approach is here to
remind us that children, exactly like adults – as creative and practicing human
beings – do contribute to changing the world, but again exactly like adults, they
don’t do it “as they please” or “under self-selected circumstances,” to paraphrase
a famous quotation that did not talk of children but of “men,” that is, people in
general.4 Structures may therefore constitute constraints that limit one’s chang-
ing capabilities, but they also offer opportunities that are helpful in facilitating
and implementing aims and hopes.
Since the 1980s, the twin perspectives of agency and structure have
been with us as complementary perspectives, although the agency perspective
has attracted much more interest than that of structure. In this chapter, the
structural view is presented by one of its adherents and users, but it is important
to stress that the border between them is not always sharp. As I shall show
below, one way of giving voice to children is to let “them” talk through statistics
668 J. Qvortrup
and other social accounts; in other words, a way which does not literally listen to
children as such but which nevertheless mediates insights about their
life worlds.
4. The study of normal childhood. It can hardly be contested that an overwhelming
concern about children and childhood has been to prevent deviation from the
“normality” of childhood, however defined. This has historically been the case in
efforts to rescue children from the temptations of the street and to protect society
from dangerous children. This was, for instance, a task the “child savers” gave
themselves. Lately and less normatively, many professionals have been preoc-
cupied with children who for other reasons could not be part of “normality,”
whether mentally or physically disabled, having reduced opportunities due to
poverty, family problems or parental alcoholism, immigrant children, or chil-
dren faced with problems which have hampered their development in other ways
or simply their daily lives as children. Problems of this kind are still attracting
much attention in both research and policy – and rightly so.
It was, however, felt that an exclusive focus on problems pertaining to
children and their surroundings, however justified, would run the risk of
neglecting what one may call the “normality of childhood.” In a sense, the
normality of childhood is implicitly recognized, because any discussion of
deviations from normality presupposes an understanding or an awareness of
what is normal. Our failure, whether as researchers or politicians, to focus
seriously on normal childhood has been one way of muting childhood. What is
the position of childhood compared to those of adulthood or old age? Is the
collectivity of children properly accounted for when resources are distributed
between generations? (See further below in Sect. 22.6, “Relations and
Relationships.”)
5. The use of ordinary methods in the study of childhood. One way of emphasizing
the normality of childhood is that as far as possible the whole available arsenal of
methods should be used. Obviously, in some cases special approaches had to be
chosen and particular ethical considerations adopted, not least if small children
were to be studied. In particular, as far as structural approaches were concerned,
it was hard to see good arguments for not using the whole range of methods.
As experience has shown in recent decades, it has proved possible to use not
only observation, photography, interrogation, and other ethnographic methods,
but also more macro-type documentation, aggregate analysis (e.g., statistical
evidence), interpretation (e.g., text analysis), and historical analyses, not to
speak of theoretical approaches in all their variety.
22.3 Theses of Childhood
Out of the work done in the initial decades, efforts were made to formulate theses about
children and childhood. Space does not allow me to quote all of them, so I shall extract
just a few salient ones (see Prout and James 1990, pp. 8–9; Qvortrup 1993, pp. 11–18;
Mayall 1996, pp. 58–59; Zeiher 1996, p. 37 and 41–42; Honig et al. 1996, p. 21).
22 Sociology 669
Common to all authors and their variants of theses was a more or less clear
division between “agency” and “structure.” As far as agency is concerned, for
instance, it was said that:
“Children are active in construction and determination of their own lives – and of
others and societies” (Prout and James),
“Children are themselves co-constructors of childhood and society” (Qvortrup),
“Children are studied as actors – not merely as dependents. . .” (Zeiher),
“Children are contributors to societal resources and production – not merely object
and recipients” (Mayall).
Honig, Leu, and Nissen talked in their chart about agency-related research and
situations of activity from the perspective of children.
As to the structural perspective, it was said that:
“Childhood is understood as a social construction” (Prout and James),
“Childhood is a particular and distinct form of any society’s social structure . . . an
integral part of society and its division of labour” (Qvortrup),
“Childhood is determined in societally organized relation between generations – as
an integral part of society” (Zeiher),
“Childhood is a component of the structures of society – not a preparatory stage”
(Mayall),
In their chart, Honig, Leu, and Nissen talk about “social status and cultural
pattern in historical change of generational relations.”5
There were doubtless sufficient variations in formulations and emphases to
generate discussions among the authors of these theses, but as these excerpts
show, there was also a considerable and remarkable agreement between their views.
22.4 A Structural Approach
The purpose of this chapter is to give a clearer understanding of childhood in

structural terms.6 Using a structural approach is in itself not an easy task. Although
a defining characteristic of the sociological discipline, attempts to theorize struc-
turally are often not welcome, as they seem to run against the hegemonic ethos of
our individualistic societies. As sociologist Herbert Gans has put it in his study of
big US news media,7 “There are no stories or magazine sections . . . about what
sociologists call the Social Structure . . . nor about more easily grasped complexes
such as the Class Hierarchy or the Power Structure” (Gans 1978, quoted by Gross
1980, p. 54).
As prominent examples of structural approaches, we may quote Galtung’s
structural theories of aggression, integration, violence, and imperialism from
1964 to 1971 (see, for instance, Galtung 1969, on violence). They are not directly
suppressed and are not infrequently quoted, and yet they are marginalized; they do
not belong to sociological canons and are typically not part of the ordinary arsenal
of textbook readings. The reason for sidelining structural approaches has most
likely to do with their alleged political contents or connotations, while forcefully
670 J. Qvortrup
maintaining that violence, aggression, imperialism, and integration are profoundly

rooted in the dominant political economic structure of any prevailing system, rather
than in individual actions.
Structural theories are also controversial because they are often considered
difficult to apply or insufficient as explanations of current socioeconomic condi-
tions. It is much easier to appreciate violence as a result of individual shortcomings
than to perceive it as the outcome of capitalism as a system. It is more straightfor-
ward and opportune to see poverty as individuals’ failure to thrive and achieve in an
individualistically formed economy than to see it as a result of market forces that
cannot be blamed or held responsible, being hidden, invisible, and without inten-
tionality. Leaving matters to the market is profoundly structural in its consequences
and in need of explanation at this level.
If structural theories are difficult, challenging, and eschewed in general terms,
this is much more the case when applied to children or childhood. When did we last
see, for instance, a structural theory of violence, or any other theory of that order,
applied to children and childhood? When talking about children and violence, what
first comes to mind is most likely parents slapping their kids rather than, for
instance, austerity measures instigated by the International Monetary Fund (IMF)
with the support of the dominant capitalist economies.
Closest to theories of that order may be the concepts of structural inconsider-
ateness and structural indifference toward children and childhood – not proposed
by some alleged left-wing scholar but surprisingly by the value-conservative
German sociologist and social policy scholar Franz-Xaver Kaufmann. In several
publications, Kaufmann has talked about a structural lack of consideration
(strukturelle R€ ucksichtslosigkeit8) which comes about as a result of a widening
structural indifference (strukturelle Gleichg€ ultigkeit) (see especially Kaufmann
1990, pp. 136ff; see also Kaufmann 1996, pp. 15ff; Kaufmann 2005, pp. 152ff).
His critical use of structural perspectives targets society in general and specifically
not parents (especially since Kaufmann includes the family among the victims of
indifference and inconsiderateness). Kaufmann seems, though, to prefer to use the
vaguer term “adults” for “society”: it cannot be sensibly reasoned that individual
adults have become more hostile toward children than before (cf. Zelizer 1985;
deMause 1974), but rather that the modern social fabric has made it much more
difficult to have and be children. In other words, the modern economy and infra-
structure have not been built up with children or childhood in mind; planning has not
considered childhood; it has practically been indifferent to childhood and its children.
Kaufmann’s observations are at first sight at odds with those of many other
observers,9 for instance, Viviana Zelizer (1985), whose strong thesis – well
documented in her seminal book Pricing the Priceless Child – was that children
have experienced increasing sentimentalization and sacralization as society has
modernized itself. She uses many cases to make plausible the thesis that
a historical change in attitudes toward children took place in the wake of industri-
alization. From the late nineteenth to the early twentieth century, adults’ attitudes
had become much more positive, though this new positive attitude does not appear
to have shifted direction since then (see Zelizer 2005).
22 Sociology 671
Are Zelizer’s and Kaufmann’s views reconcilable? Although they may appear
paradoxical, I suggest, they are far from contradictory. The suggestion that parents
and indeed adults have adopted more affectionate attitudes toward children does
not contradict the alternative suggestion that society has become more indifferent
and less considerate and responsive to childhood. However, an appreciation of this
paradox requires that we make analytical distinctions between the family and
societal levels because the meaning of connections between generations differs
depending on the level of analysis – whether we talk about them at the family level
or the societal level. The significance of choosing one or the other level is in turn
dependent on the prevailing economy. While the latter in its variability remains our
focused contextual framework for analysis, childhood will be our unit of observa-
tion throughout. This important point will be resumed later (see especially the
section about “relationships and relations”) (Sect. 22.6).
22.5 Childhood as a Social Form, a Segment

of the Generational Order
In this section, I shall present what I see as the most important features of childhood
in sociological terms. With reference to Fig. 22.1, these features are envisaged as
structural levels, which in negative terms are not individual levels that otherwise
characterize psychological perspectives. I shall not say much about developmental
psychology but merely point out how, at significant points, it distinguishes itself
from a sociological approach, namely, in terms of a focus, alien to sociology, on the
individual child with a view to its development and its transition to becoming an
adult. The arrows in Fig. 22.1 represent disciplines with an individual perspective.
I shall ignore the special case of the downward-pointing arrow apart from indicating
that it may represent a psychiatric (or psychoanalytic) view in the sense that an
adult’s personal problems are thought to be diagnosed by acquiring knowledge
Childhood Adulthood Old age
2010s
1990s
1970s
1950s
Fig. 22.1 Model of

generational relations 1930s
672 J. Qvortrup
about this person’s childhood through the psychiatrist. What it has in common with
the downward-pointing arrow is its emphasis on the early stages of life as a key to
coming to terms with adulthood.
22.5.1 The Diagonal Dimension: Individual Level
The upward-pointing arrow represents the typical case of a child’s development as

seen by a developmental psychologist, ordinary people, parents, and the children
themselves (see Frønes 2005). A child is born in the 1990s and will develop its
dispositions so as to become an adult in command of sensory, motoric, moral,
intellectual, and sexual abilities and skills. It will enlarge its competencies and
capabilities, which are supposed to flourish fully only in adulthood. The perspective
is looking forward to or anticipating this particular child’s adulthood; measures of
upbringing and socialization are oriented toward adulthood. The focus is on the
child’s integration into society, as one typically formulates it, thereby suggesting
that the child is not yet an integrated member of society. As allegedly not fully
developed, the child is perceived and treated as a not-yet-person – legally and in
daily practice. The child is vulnerable and in need of protection; it is dependent and
has claims on its parents, not as a deserving person, but because it is the offspring of
its parents (cf. Garbarino 1986).
The childhood we are talking about is understood as a transition to adulthood and
thus as a period of a person’s life, the other periods of which are youth, adulthood,
old age, and perhaps additionally broken down to include also early, middle, and late
adulthood and early and late old age. They hardly have names, all of them, but at this
stage of our speculations, this tripartite division suffices. A person’s life is a period in
itself, as are the parts of it: childhood, adulthood, and old age. As a period, it is
something which has a beginning and an end.10
This perspective is useful in many respects and serves us well in our daily-life
settings of the family, school, leisure time, etc. It is a life-phase perspective which is
relevant for the individual person’s trajectory (distinguishable from a life-course
perspective; see below). It may at best be seen as complementary to a structural
perspective, which, however, is one which most people are hardly aware of,
consciously or unconsciously.
22.5.2 Structural Levels
A structural perspective, the main preoccupation of this chapter, is on most

counts radically different from an individual’s life-phase perspective. A structural
perspective on childhood is a profoundly relational and comparative perspective –
either historically (the vertical dimension in Fig. 22.1) or cross-sectionally
(the horizontal dimension). Talking about a structural perspective on childhood
presupposes an appreciation of structure in generational terms. As I shall discuss
22 Sociology 673
later, efforts to come to terms with it in relation to class or gender are unhelpful.
As structural forms, childhood, adulthood, and old age assume generational forms
and must therefore relate to each other as such (see Alanen 2009, and ▶ Chap. 5,
“Childhood and Intergenerationality: Toward an Intergenerational Perspective on
Child Well-Being,” this volume). They are, in other words, not class forms, gender
forms, or ethnic forms.
As mentioned above, life phases – among them the periodic phase called
childhood – are defined in terms of developmental dispositions: sensory, motoric,
morally, intellectually, and sexually. Generational forms are defined in completely
different ways. They are not defined with reference to personal dispositions but to
its parameters at a given historical juncture in a given society or other larger or
smaller political or cultural unit. The parameters to be considered include eco-
nomic, political, social, cultural, legal, religious, technological, and others, not
forgetting mode of socialization.11 They do not pertain to the person but rather to
larger categories like generation or as the case may be: class, gender, or ethnicity
(see Alanen, ▶ Chap. 5, “Childhood and Intergenerationality: Toward an
Intergenerational Perspective on Child Well-Being,” this volume). Characteristic
of these parameters is also that in principle they are to be found in all societies,
irrespective of economic stage.12 Although the level of technologies in prehistor-
ical eras was rather primitive, I think one would have to go very far back in
history to be able to claim a complete absence of technology. Childhood through-
out history has, therefore, in principle a technological dimension, which can be
compared, including between coexisting generational forms.
22.5.2.1 The Vertical Dimension: The Historical Development

of Childhood
However, if we stay with Fig. 22.1’s vertical dimension, it is obviously highly
meaningful to think in terms of the parameters mentioned for all “generations” over
the last century. This makes it possible to compare them over time in terms of both
continuity and change. This is true for childhood as well as for adulthood and old age.
What was childhood in the 1920s, for instance? We are obviously not talking
about one specific person’s childhood. We could have done that if we had known
his or her dispositions, indeed, we could have done it if we had known the
parameters of his or her periodic childhood. What I have in mind here is rather
the crucial question of what childhood was like at a given historical juncture, in
France or Sweden, for instance, in the early twentieth century. Taking into consid-
eration two countries already suggests two implicit comparisons: a historical one
comparing contemporary childhood at the beginning of the twenty-first century
with that of the early twentieth century and a cross-cultural one comparing child-
hood in two nations at the beginning of the twentieth century.
In each of these junctures, childhood is defined by a particular set of parameters
as they interact with each other. In both countries, childhood was characterized by
a certain level of economic, technological, and social development of a particular
cultural and religious situation, etc. We may likewise claim that adulthood and old
age are formed by the same parameters (on the differences between generational
674 J. Qvortrup
units, see below). We thus perceive childhood as a generational space, as

a particular socioeconomic, cultural, and technological architecture impacting and
leaving imprints on all children living in France and Sweden at this time in history.
Of course there were differences between children or “childhoods” in both coun-
tries, and of course there were differences between French and Swedish childhood
in early twentieth century. However, if we compare childhood at this time with
childhood in the early twenty-first century, we are surely justified in suggesting that
the changes over this century and thus the differences between these two junctures
were much greater than the differences between French and Swedish childhoods at
any of the two historical eras. We are therefore allowed to say that, although
childhood changes and even if childhood differs over time and place as
a structural form, it does not come to an end. We must have this message clear
for us, because this is where the conclusion differs most in relation to childhood as
a life phase or as a period in a person’s life. While the latter disappears, childhood
as a structural form never terminates.13
If we disregard various diagnoses about childhood – its disappearance (Postman
1982), its erosion (Suransky 1982), and its liquidation (Hengst [1981] 1987), not to
speak of its absence from mediaeval adults’ awareness (Ariès 1962) – it has always
been with us as a structural form. Childhood has, in other words, permanence as
a unit within a generational order. It varies, it changes, but it never disappears as the
space or architecture awaiting any newborn child; there will always be one or
another kind of context or framework available for children to grow up within, its
qualities untold. This context or framework is not the periodic life phase cast in terms
of individual dispositions, but the permanent but changing childhood defined in
terms of prevailing parameters. It is permanent because it never ceases to exist; it
changes because its defining and interacting parameters assume ever new values and,
in interacting, adopt new configurations. To put it differently from the point of view
of research, childhood is our unit of observation, and society is our level of analysis.
In other words, at the same time as it is stated that childhood has permanence, it
must be reiterated that childhood is changing. In principle, it does not change
because its parameters differ in number. It changes rather because the values of
the parameters change and because the relative significance of the parameters
cannot and will not remain the same. It seems obvious that the importance of the
technological parameter has increased during the twentieth century; it could change
if the politics of childhood gains primacy relative to that of economics (e.g.,
the market) or vice versa. As suggested above, culturally a more caring attitude
to children has been noted, while economically and politically a structural indif-
ference has been observed.
I have been talking about the vertical dimension in Fig. 22.1 and argued that
childhood has permanence and that it is changing, while suggesting that it is
a completely different thing to talk about the development of childhood than
about the development of the child. The discourses around the two are different,
although in a sense the discourse about the development of childhood has hardly
come out in the open (see though, historians Ariès and deMause).
22 Sociology 675
As mentioned above, we talk about the child in anticipatory terms: about the
child becoming an adult and about the child’s transition to adulthood. However, it
does not make sense to talk about the development of childhood into adulthood and
further into old age; as a permanent category, childhood cannot transmute
into anything other than childhood, it merely – as childhood – undergoes alter-
ations. While we frequently and meaningfully discuss the socialization of the
child or talk about how children grow up, it is not possible to talk about
the socialization of childhood or about childhood growing up. It is nevertheless
full of meaning to imagine, observe, study, and talk about the change and continuity
of childhood.
The generational units remain related to each other but with changing members
on board – some enter and some leave in a continuous flow. Within a generational
span – typically from zero to 18 years (the age of majority) – the social space of
childhood renews its members completely. This renewal is unavoidable, and there
is consequently within one generational span a total mobility from the status of
childhood to the status of adulthood. Even though all children have become adults,
this dramatic replacement of members does not in itself and in the short run
transform childhood as a social form.
While one colloquially uses the in my view unhappy phrase that children grow up to
become integrated into society, one cannot use a similar expression as far as childhood
is concerned. Childhood as a structural form is not integrated into society because, by
definition, it is an integral unit of society and more specifically a unit of the genera-
tional order (see Alanen 1994, and ▶ Chap. 5, “Childhood and Intergenerationality:
Toward an Intergenerational Perspective on Child Well-Being,” this volume).
22.5.2.2 The Horizontal Dimension: Comparing Generational Units

The horizontal dimension of Fig. 22.1 is a cross-sectional dimension. As already
suggested, it allows us to compare different generational units or forms, whether we
stick to the three used in Fig. 22.1 or we add others to them – youth, for instance, as
perhaps the most obvious omission. The definition of the generational forms in
terms of outcome of the interplay between parameters is unaltered, but we must
evidently ask if this outcome has the same influence on different generational units.
As mentioned above, they are at any given time and place exposed to more or less
similar impacts from most parameters, but impacts and effects will presumably be
received differently by the units and their members, whether children, adults, or
elderly. The reasons for this are to be found not only in external factors, for
instance, adults’ status involving stronger and more crucial rights, entitlement to
work and earning money, their privilege in exerting political rights, their being in
command of technological equipment as a result of their role in the larger social
fabric, their education and experience, etc. It is also due to the fact that it is
explicitly one of adults’ prerogatives to execute power over children (and to
some extent over the elderly) both inside and outside the family – to select, channel,
and interpret whichever symbolic and material objects are to children’s advantage
or disadvantage. For this reason, the parameter “socialization mode” is in principle
676 J. Qvortrup
different from the others: it is only the members of the generational unit of
childhood who are massively and systematically subjected to this parameter,
which therefore contributes to making childhood different from other generational
forms and to constituting it as a minority category (see below).
In our discussions about relations and relationships, we shall deepen our analysis
of the horizontal dimension. The comparison may be between persons belonging to
different generational units, but it may also be between collectivities and the units
themselves – between childhood and adulthood and/or old age or any other
combination.14
The horizontal dimension is not necessarily reduced to the current
cross-sectional level: combined with the vertical dimension, it offers in principle
historical answers to questions about changing intergenerational relations. At any
time and place, we will be describing and disclosing a certain relation between the
generations. There is always such a thing as an intergenerational relation; it has
permanence. At the same time, we can establish that it necessarily changes over
time. Evidence of relations between generations and how they manifest themselves
is an empirical question; the idea that access to status, power, and other privileges is
unequally distributed over generations is hardly extraordinary nor is it an astound-
ing proposition that their forms may change over time. An excellent example is
Margaret Mead’s famous exposé of changing generational relations in her booklet
Culture and Commitment (Mead 1970).
22.5.2.3 The Diagonal Dimension: The Collective Level

In my interpretation of Fig. 22.1 so far, the diagonal directions represent individual
development in a forward-looking approach (or exceptionally a backward-looking
one), always with the child as the key to understanding adult life, future or present.
There is, however, one diagonal, forward-looking approach which includes more
than the individual, namely, a cohort, or perhaps better a collectivity (interestingly,
there is hardly a chance in this approach to look backward in a way that parallels the
so-called psychiatric perspective; see above). The best example of this approach is
Glen Elder’s seminal research on Children of the Great Depression (Elder [1974]
1999). It has been Elder’s ambitious project to make a connection between
structure and personality through collaboration between history and developmental
psychology.15 His research has been stimulating, as in Children of the Great
Depression, he set out to follow a large group of children born in Oakland in
1920–1921 who grew up in the depression in the 1930s. The children were exposed
to similar large-scale influences. From a sociological point of view, Elder’s life-
course perspective represents a great leap forward compared with the life-phase (the
individual developmental) perspective, which it complements with a broad socio-
logical dimension. Yet, it is still forward-looking, though at a collective level using
macro variables as hypothetical causal ones. The variables are not individual
dispositions as used by developmental psychologists, but they are external,
environmental parameters such as those mentioned above: economy, politics,
etc. During the depression of the 1930s, the economic slump was deep in terms of
unemployment and poverty.
22 Sociology 677
Even if Elder did not succeed in coming to a satisfying answer concerning the
links between structure and personality, his questions were highly relevant
and significant and did contribute to reasoning about the production of different
collectivities as a result of different large-scale circumstances.
22.6 Relations and Relationships
The issue of connections between generations needs to be dealt with at two levels –
at the micro level (family, locality) and the macro level (society). Both levels are
interesting and relevant; they are applicable in different contexts and for different
purposes; yet there are also crucial parallels and correspondences. At the micro
level, we wish in general to denote the bonds between persons who are closely
related as regards family links, friendship, work affiliation, and other primary
affinity. In generational terms at this level, we are thinking of relationships between
members of two or more generational units: children and parents, children and
grandparents (or great grandparents), parents and grandparents, and, more and more
attenuated as the case may be, aunts and uncles. Of course, within families we can
also talk about relationships between members of the same generation such as
siblings and cousins (see Hood-Williams 1990).
Intergenerational links at this level, as described in research, may be friendly or
full of tensions; this is also the case in belles-lettres, with the father-son relationship
being the most prominent one.16 In developmental psychology, the typical rela-
tionship described is interestingly not the father-son but the mother-child dyad, and
while the father-son relationship more often than not is confrontational, the mother-
child dyad is symbiotic.
In structural (macro) terms, we are primarily interested in connections between
generational units; our interests in links between persons are shown only to the
extent that they more or less coincide with structural connections, as it is the case in
preindustrial society. How do we come to terms with them? The German language
has a distinction between “Beziehungen” at the personal level and “Verh€altnisse”
at the structural level. It talks, for instance, about “Mutter-Kind-Beziehung”
(mother-child relationship) but about “Klassenverh€altnis” (class relation). As
far as I can tell, the English language does not have a similar, rather clear-cut
distinction, but I suggest that “relationship” be used for the primary or personal
level and “relation” for the structural level.17 Most important is that we are enabled
to make an analytical distinction between the two levels, as we are used to doing in
analyses of social class and gender. In the former case, we may talk about a personal
relationship between two workers who are colleagues in a particular factory; it
is even conceivable to talk about a personal relationship between a worker and
his capitalist employer. At the structural level, however, we shall be talking
about relations between the working class and the capitalist class, that is, relations
between structural units. In the latter case, namely, gender, we shall be
talking about love between a woman and a man in terms of relationships, whereas
if we are dealing with women and men as gender units, we shall use the term
678 J. Qvortrup
“relation.” Interestingly, one would typically think of “love” at the micro level,18
but opposition at the macro level: men and women seek each other for lifelong
partnership, which does not prevent a contradictory, almost antagonistic relation
between the categories “men” and “women” or “manhood” and “womanhood.”
It is instructive to make these analogies to foster and further our understanding of
structural relations between generational units. Even if it makes sense to talk about
a development of a (personal) relationship between a worker and his or her
employer, it can never be one that transcends the lifetime of the persons involved.
A lasting relationship between a woman and a man is not only possible but luckily
still typical in terms of partnership in marriage. Again, it can last only until the
death of the partners. These relationships are extremely important for the persons
involved, and the fact that they are, at the end of the day, temporary or periodic does
not reduce their significance; it only shows the limits of their applicability.
The notion of relations does not, therefore, replace relationships or the necessity
of dealing with them but represents an extension of our understanding of the links
between social phenomena. The coexistence of relationships and relations is an
example of Wright Mills’ famous distinction between “the personal troubles of
milieu” and “the public issues of social structure” – a distinction which he held to be
“perhaps the most fruitful distinction with which the sociological imagination
works” and “an essential tool of the sociological imagination and a feature of all
classic work in social science” (Mills 1961, p. 8). While personal troubles befall an
individual or occur within the range of her or his immediate relationships with
others, says Mills, public issues have to do with matters that transcend these local
environments of the individual. If, at a societal level, workers and capitalists or men
and women recurrently experience typical and common problems, they assume the
form of a relation in terms of a public issue – a class relation and a gender relation.
While personal troubles must be dealt with in a private context, public issues in
terms of large-scale cooperation or conflict between structural units must be
addressed at the structural level.
The latter is a well-known fact of economic and political life in terms of class
struggles –historical phenomena that have been with us for centuries independently
of individual workers and capitalists. It is also a well-known phenomenon in terms
of “gender wars,” although less institutionalized, only surfacing in recent decades
as a powerful and recognized public issue.
How are we now to perceive generational relations as a public issue? How are
we to acknowledge that the links between generations that each of us finds as
personal relationships within the scope of the intimate milieu of home and locality
have sufficient in common that we can also appreciate it as a “public issue of social
structure” in Mills’ words? It is important to underline that neither relationships nor
relations need to be negative: Mills’ “personal trouble” unfortunately has such
a negative connotation, which the neutral “public issue” does not have. We all
have personal relationships with members of other generations – their qualities
untold – and it is this commonality that allows us to talk in generalized terms about
(objective) relations between generations and to make it a public issue, while
acknowledging that a subjective relationship may well be absent. Indeed, children
22 Sociology 679
are hardly aware of a structural hostility or indifference between generations

(cf. class “in itself” and “for itself,” below).
Structural relations between generations are, unlike relationships, without
a beginning and an end. They are independent of particular persons and persist as
a permanent feature. The quality of generational relations is not to any noteworthy
degree impacted by the inflow of new or outflow of old members, unless we are
witnessing large demographic upheavals, such as those that have turned the numer-
ical relations between young and old upside down. The generational units remain in
principle as such, and the flow of members through the segments does not prevent
one from recognizing the current members at a particular time as forming
a collectivity. The flow of members cannot help leaving its imprint on the segments,
but the inevitable changes of the segments will, I suggest, be rather a result of
structural forces and of the interaction with other generational segments, that is, of
intergenerational relations.
We have to admit, as alluded to above, that our appreciation of intergenerational
relations is still wanting and far from constituting a tradition, and experiences made
available by social studies of childhood have not improved this state of the art to
a notable extent. They remain stuck at the individual level and “personal troubles of
milieu.” To the degree that structural perspectives are invoked, it is class, gender,
and ethnicity that are mustered to the effect that nothing is told about generational
relationships, let alone relations. Unfortunately, this tendency has been aggravated
during the period of postmodernism and post-structuralism, with a concomitant
appetite on diversification and a concurrent aversion to generalizations. The
approach to questions of well-being will, I suggest, gain from consulting
a structural perspective, which, as far as childhood is concerned, is and must be
a generational one (see Alanen, ▶ Chap. 5, “Childhood and Intergenerationality:
Toward an Intergenerational Perspective on Child Well-Being,” this volume).
Occasionally, one happens to find a generational perspective in writings by
structural sociologists with hardly any idea of “social studies of childhood.” Arthur
Stinchcombe (1986) is such a rare case. Nevertheless, he not only uses children and
childhood as examples to illustrate what he calls pervasive categories but immedi-
ately and almost instinctively catches the point about children’s status as a counter-
position to that of adults. In other words, he adopts a structural approach. Let me
therefore briefly present his reasoning.
First of all, he asserts that “all societies distinguish between children and
adults” (p. 148), and that “in every society there are some categories into
which people can be classified that pervade their whole lives: child-adult;
male–female; citizen-alien; black-white; crazy-sane” (p. 145). “On the one
hand,” Stinchcombe contends, “these categories seem to be features of institu-
tions,” and then he mentions quite a number of examples of the child’s member-
ship of different institutions such as the school and the family, the political
system, and the legal system. As he observes, “we do find a certain amount of
variation between these institutions in exactly who is a child” (p. 146, my
italics) – in terms of their legal majority, for instance. On the other hand, he
states, somehow this [variation] misses the essence of the status of being a child.
680 J. Qvortrup
After all, being a child in the civil courts (i.e. not being able to be held liable for
contracts), is very closely related to being a child in the family (being subject to
the head of the household’s decisions about money) and in the labor market (not
being employable) and the school (being prepared for the labor market). The
status of a child is pervasive among institutional areas, and “hangs together” in
a meaningful sense. That is, is dominated in each institutional area by the notion
that this is a person who needs to be taken care of, who cannot make his or
her own decisions. Though the details (e.g., the age of majority) vary among
institutions, the child-adult contrast has roughly the same significance in all of
them. It is a “structural” distinction, in the sense that it gives structure to a wide
variety of superficially different situations. (p. 146, my italics).
It is interesting to observe that Stinchcombe is not dissolving the notion of
childhood or children by splitting these categories into a number of subcategories
like gender, ethnicity, and class. He is doing exactly the opposite; he is observing
variation and creates out of this variation what he calls pervasive categories, that is,
categories that reappear in a meaningful sense in quite a number of contexts – and
as far as childhood is concerned, all having to do with a relationship to older
generations. He observes that we are too easily led astray by situations which at
face value are at variance but which share a common substance, namely, a subser-
vient position vis-à-vis adults. “[E]ven in the face of personal variation . . . perva-
sive classification . . . decisively shapes the opportunities, rights, and obligations to
which a person is exposed . . . it shapes people’s dominant conception of their
identities, of their continuities of their own lives” (p. 155). “The line between
minors and adults in the society as a whole decisively shapes families (adults
always run them), schools (teachers and parents run them . . .), factories (minors
are excluded), automobile and real estate markets (minors cannot get credit . . .),
and so on” (loc.cit).
Stinchcombe does not use the concept of generation, but again and again he
makes the distinction between children and adults: “Children go to school – adults
not” (p. 145); “children have privileges and obligations distinct from adults”
(pp. 145–146). He makes this distinction because children and adults are pervasive
and corresponding categories exactly as women and men are pervasive and
corresponding categories, the existence of which requires the other. It is for this
reason that I suggest that even studies of children which do not show any signs of
being interested in generation nevertheless must presuppose other generational
segments.
If you try to circumvent this task of definition, as is possible, then you will
logically be conducting gender, class, or ethnic research and not generational
research. There is nothing wrong in that, but it does not contribute to accumulating
insight into the structural position of childhood (see Wintersberger, ▶ Chap. 52,
“Childhood and Inequalities: Generational Distributive Justice and Disparities,”
this volume).
Giving a priority to diversity, I argue, means turning one’s back on recognizing
childhood as a structural segment or, in Stinchcombe’s terms, a pervasive category.
It is a denial of acknowledging its common structural features, which are
22 Sociology 681
profoundly generational. I am not warning against dealing with plural childhoods as

such but only against doing so unless one has come to terms with what childhood is
in generational terms (see Qvortrup 2010).
An instructive example of the necessity to focus directly on children is found in
public statistics. Since its very beginning, the sociology of childhood has made
efforts to give children a voice in public statistics or to make children count,
literally as well as metaphorically. One significant observation made by early
practitioners of the sociology of childhood was that all too often children were
hidden in statistical categories that did not pertain to children themselves. Typically
was for instance a mix-up of family statistics with statistics on children. There is,
however, a huge difference between the categories “families with children” and
“children in child families.” Many years ago, we traveled with this example,
demonstrating that, while there might well be close to 50% of all child families
that included merely one child, in fact, only around 20% of all children had no
siblings (see much more about this in Sgritta and Saporiti 1989; Qvortrup 1990;
Jensen and Saporiti 1992). The confusion about choosing the correct unit of count
or observation may have serious consequences for the chosen policies: if true, the
myth of the grossly exaggerated proportion of single children in families that
politicians and journalists untutored in statistics wanted to spread would be suffi-
cient cause for alarm. This does not mean that family statistics are useless; on the
contrary, they are indispensable for arriving at a correct picture of families;
similarly, counting children is absolutely necessary for knowing about children.
If we want to know about poverty among children, it does not help us much – or
merely as a bad proxy – to know about poverty in child families. We must come to
know about poverty among children, and its gravity is appreciated only if it is
compared with its corresponding generational unit – adults, young people, or the
elderly (see Wintersberger, ▶ Chap. 52, “Childhood and Inequalities: Generational
Distributive Justice and Disparities,” this volume). The proper comparative cate-
gory to families with children is families without children – a very interesting
comparison, by the way, with implications for the position of children in society.
The lesson that experiences with statistics on children teaches us – in continu-
ation of our discussion of diversity – is the necessity to focus directly on children
before we make any effort to split up other categories like families, gender, and
ethnicity. In his seminal address to the American Population Association, Preston
preempted criticism that he was generalizing too much about poverty among
children in the USA by saying:
With regard to race, let me just say that the main theme here is the changing
status of American children, a group that includes all races. I see no particular
reason for separating out the races any more than for carrying through a distinction
between Northerners and Southerners or other commonly used identifiers (Preston
1984: 451).
This is exactly the point: Preston insists on a consistent focus on children
because the theme is children. Nothing prevents a further breakdown of children
according to race, class, gender etc., but one has to observe carefully the adequate
order of analysis.
682 J. Qvortrup
22.7 A Growing Awareness of Childhood, Family, and Economy
The development of childhood is induced by changes in the conditions of production

and concomitant changes in our awareness of related phenomena. The changing
connections between generations are particularly important to register in an account
of children’s changing position. Intergenerational connections in preindustrial com-
munities took the form of primary contacts above all because everybody lived close
to each other in a small locality or community, even though they were actually
included in both the reproductive and the productive spheres. The reason for this was
obvious: the economy was a household economy, or to use a different terminology,
their oikos was of the household type. Since this was the case, it also, in abstract
terms, assumed the nature of structural relations in that there was a coincidence
between the structural level and the family level: in a household oikos, the agents
embodied connections between generations. This coincidence disappeared in the
modern economy, when reproduction and production were severed.
I find the Greek term for household/economy useful for comparative reasons. As
a supra-concept, oikos can be used as a generic, generalized concept for any
economic type – for households based on community or Gemeinschaft cooperation
in a locality in preindustrial society (hereafter, for the sake of brevity: the old oikos),
as well as for what we might call a societal household (a national economy: hereafter
the new oikos). In principle, all necessary economic processes take place in any
oikos: production, reproduction, consumption, circulation, and division of labor; and
everywhere, one must “economize” in order to maintain sustainability. Thus, while
in principle nothing has changed in terms of vital processes to accomplish, because
all forms are indispensable forms for human survival, dramatic changes have taken
place in the way the various oikos are organized. The oikos concept reminds us that,
while it is always subjected to change, it is continuity that reigns.
In the old oikos, the connections between different functions were transparent;
there was no separation between production and reproduction because those who
produced were the same as those who reproduced, which meant that nobody was
able to be a free rider in the system or evade responsibility for common concerns.
This implied a practical enforcement of a generational covenant. In fact, children
happened to be so deeply involved as both contributors and beneficiaries that Ariès
found it appropriate to characterize this oikos as a time and place where childhood
had not yet been invented:
In medieval society the idea of childhood did not exist . . . [the] awareness of the
particular nature of childhood, that particular nature which distinguishes the child
from an adult . . . was lacking (Ariès 1962: 128).
Ariès conveys to us not only the insight that generational differentiation hardly
existed because it barely existed in reality but also that children and their activities
were enmeshed and embedded in the community in which both parents and children
lived and worked side by side. One is therefore justified in proposing that differ-
entiation of work-related roles was low – the nature of what children and adults did
was in any case the same,19 even if the activities were adapted to their bodily
capacities.
22 Sociology 683
When, to follow Ariès, childhood was “invented” – and he points in particular to

schooling as an important marker in this process – the way was paved for a growing
attention to what children did. Historians’ descriptions of children’s work in the
nineteenth century is sufficient for us to realize at least two things: first, what
children actually did – and they did, details aside, manual activities, as they had
always done until this time; and secondly, even if they largely shared particular
kinds of activities with adults, this eventually came to clash with a new awareness
about children. Some, but far from all, were alarmed by what was understood as an
assault on children’s bodies and minds. This reflected a new consciousness about
children, as Ariès and many others have suggested (Zelizer 1985; see above).
Brunner conveys the same message when he says that
Only in the eighteenth century does the word “family” comes to penetrate
the everyday German language and achieves this particular emotionality which
we connect with it. (Brunner 1980: 89; my italics; my translation from the German).
Not only childhood but apparently also the family, according to Brunner, had to
be invented as modernity progressed. With the changing economy – or oikos – the
division of labor and the rate of change also increased. The old oikos was not at the
time an issue but rather seen as a context for a “natural” exchange of use values; it
had not as such reached peoples’ consciousness, and therefore, with industrializa-
tion had to be addressed in a new way. As Levine says:
What to do with the economy has been a problem since we first became aware
that we had one. Our awareness of the economy is, however, a fairly recent
development (Levine 1995: 12; my italics).
The three quotations from Ariès, Brunner, and Levine all point in the same
direction. They all speak of or allude to a lacking awareness of, respectively,
childhood, family, and economy. I do not read this as if it merely took some social
constructionism – or more precisely: mental creativity – to establish childhood,
family, and economy. The fact was rather that incipient modernity – by means of
a growing differentiation due to changing requirements of production – did away
with the thus far dominant oikos. This was a site for relationships in family and
locality, resulting in reproduction as well as production, but it was a productive
activity that people did not realize was an economy, an oikos.
To address Levine’s point, it is tempting to say that the new awareness of the
economy coincided with the severance of reproduction from production which
again invoked the demise of political economy to the advantage of what is now
regarded as a classical liberal economy as pioneered by Alfred Marshall. To follow
Kaufmann, this period also increased the level of indifference to childhood on the
part of corporate society.
Interestingly, furthermore, this interpretation of the economy coincided
with the appearance of a number of child sciences such as pediatrics, devel-
opmental psychology and child psychiatry, which all had their inaugural
assemblies during the last decades of the nineteenth century. It also suited
well the portrayal of the period as one in which the awareness of childhood
peaked, with children being sentimentalized and subjected to increased levels
of protection.
684 J. Qvortrup
In other words, we observe a paradox in the sense that children are more and
more embraced at the family level, while simultaneously being increasingly
disregarded at the level of society – a paradox that accords with Davis’s “increasing
incongruity” thesis (see next). To the extent that this thesis was acceded
by dominant economic and political forces, it suggested a significant change in
childhood. However, one may ask whether it was an interpretation that served
children well – or indeed, whether it was a valid one? Was it true that children were,
so to speak, thrown out of the serious social fabric, or were they simply entering
a changed version of the generational contract?
22.8 Change and Continuity in Generational Relations
As we have seen, the changes in production led to changes in awareness. How can
we make use of the perspectives outlined? In what follows I shall give examples of
both change and continuity in generational relations.
This perspective suggested that childhood is the unit of observation and society
the level of analysis. As a consequence, the position of childhood and the status of
children as a collectivity depend on the historical context. This is true also for
relations between childhood and other generational segments. To demonstrate this,
in this chapter, I shall limit myself to a particularly significant historical caesura,
namely, the transition to industrial society – or to modernity, as some would prefer
to call it – a period which covers, by and large, the last third of the nineteenth and
the first third of the twentieth centuries. Many scholars within history, political
science, and sociology have pointed to this period as a particularly important one.
Sociologist James S. Coleman describes it as a transition from a “primordial
social organisation” (our old oikos) to a “purposively constructed social organisa-
tion” (our new oikos). More specifically, Coleman defines it as a transformation of
the economy from a “set of weakly interdependent households, most of which
produced most of what they consumed,” to an economy “in which most production
took place in factories and most of what was consumed was purchased in the
market.” Major indicators of this transformation are “[t]he movement of people
off the land into cities and the movement of production from households to factories
and other specialized workplaces” (Coleman 1993; see also Coleman 1990).
Kingsley Davis, a congenial colleague of Coleman,20 made an interpretation of
the more or less completed transition. He realized its impact in all modernizing
countries, and in an attempt to explain its implications, especially for the family, he
put forward the thesis.
[T]hat the declining birth rate has resulted from a ripening incongruity between
our reproductive system (the family) and the rest of modern social organization, . . .
the kind of reproductive institution inherited from the past is fundamentally incom-
patible with present-day society and hence can never catch up (Davis 1937, p. 290).
Both Coleman and Davis allude to what a moment ago was referred to as the
severance of reproduction from production. In other words, there was in the old
oikos a congruity between production and reproduction, which disappeared under
22 Sociology 685
the new oikos.21 What, in terms of change and continuity, do Davis’s and
Coleman’s deliberations mean for childhood and for generational relations?
Compared to the old oikos, the number of children decreased during the transi-
tion and has continued to do so right up to this very day. There were good reasons
for this: classical motivations for having children have basically disappeared. They
were, firstly, that children were already regarded as an asset as children, being
contributors in the old oikos; and secondly, that children were seen as the only
(if there was any) guarantee for care and provision when people reached old age.
Nowadays, in the new oikos, children are no longer perceived as an economic
asset but as a cost. Parents do not have children in order to enrich themselves in
monetary terms – on the contrary. Children are in addition claimed to endanger
parents’ occupational opportunities, in particular those of their mothers. One major
change in the discourse is that children have lost the attribute “useful” for the new
oikos. This does not mean that they are regarded as less valuable in all respects, but
their valuation is now gauged in emotional currency, not as contributors to our
material wealth. It was this change Zelizer (1985) played with in the title of her
book Pricing the priceless child. What children had gained in “pricelessness,” they
have by the same token lost in usefulness and status. Indeed, a moral condemnation
of child labor, for instance, by child savers, was part of the sentimentalization that
embraced childhood. The most significant, almost brutal indication of children’s
loss of status is doubtless, the dramatic reduction in their numbers, relatively
speaking. Paradoxically enough, the more we claim to be knowledgeable about
children and their needs, and the more we appear to love them (cf. Zelizer’s
sentimentalization thesis), the less likely we are to have them.
As to the other fertility motivation, parents no longer consider old-age provision
and care a good reason for having children – at least not for having many children.
The marginal utility of an additional child will soon be realized as rapidly decreas-
ing after the first and second children, who nonetheless are appreciated for their
practical and emotional support in old age if they live in the vicinity. But the cash
nexus has been severed. The parallel with childhood is therefore striking: at
the emotional level, relationships remain, but at the rational level, it is relations
that prevail.
It is easy to identify and make an inventory of the changes that have taken place.
There are obvious and considerable differences between the old and the new oikos.
We need, however, to take a closer look at the matter or reflect on alternative
interpretations while considering continuities. Most crucial in intergenerational
terms are the following two questions:
(a) Did children really lose their usefulness?
(b) Did old people have anything to fear regarding care and provision from the
succeeding generation?
The answer to both questions is “no,” at least in principle. An appreciation of
this answer requires a realization that not only have both children’s activities and
the generational contract changed, they have also retained their equivalence of
meaning in the transition from the old to new oikos. As a part of the new oikos,
neither children’s activities nor pensions are part of intergenerational relationships
686 J. Qvortrup
within the family; they have become part of the intergenerational relations within
society writ large. Let us look at these two important areas as far as childhood
studies and generational relations are concerned: children’s activities and the
generational contract. We shall also consider demographic changes from the
same perspective.
Children’s Activities. If we talk about childhood in the old oikos, we inevitably
come to think of children’s obligatory activities in terms of classic child labor
aimed at supporting the family and the locality. These activities took many forms
but almost without exception were accomplished as manual work – in the fields,
in factories, in small manufacture, etc. Quite logically, children’s work was
predominantly manual, because manual work was predominant in preindustrial
society as a whole. There was, in other words, a fit between the prevailing economy
and children’s activities, and it is likely that throughout history there has been such
a fit. In general terms, one might suggest that children’s obligatory activities are
immanent in any prevailing economy; let us call it system-immanent work. This
must consequently be the case also in the new oikos.
It is true that many children work manually after school hours in the new oikos.
Many scholars have interpreted this as a continuation because the work is manual
and have inferred that children’s involvement in work has decreased over time. I do
not think this reasoning is logical because manual work in a knowledge society is
not system-immanent. Manual work in the old oikos has a different meaning than
manual work in the new oikos. There is however another activity that candidates to
the label “system-immanent work” in the new oikos, namely, children’s school-
work. Astonishingly, schoolwork as performed by children themselves is ignored
by most scholars of social studies of childhood, even if they are eager to demon-
strate that children are active persons. Schoolwork is sidelined, despite the fact that
it is the only true system-immanent work: it is a universal obligatory activity,
demanded by both the political community and the new oikos, and it is agreeable
to parents as well as children; it is system-immanent in the sense that its form
as mental work corresponds to the prevailing activity form in a knowledge society
(for further arguments, see Qvortrup 1995).
The necessary compatibility between children’s work and work in general within
any oikos produces a new kind of connection between generations in the historical
move from the old to the new oikos – it changes from relationships between persons
in the old oikos (between children, parents, and grandparents) to relations between
pervasive categories in the new oikos (between minors and adults; pupils and
teachers; childhood and adulthood/old age). In other words, connections between
generations remain, but their nature changes. Children’s obligatory activities
remain system-immanent, but their form changes, as they relate to two different
systems (oikos). Finally, while children’s manual work was useful for the old oikos,
children’s schoolwork is useful, indeed indispensable, for the new oikos. I wonder if
anybody is ready to make conclusions to the opposite effect. The problem is,
however, that, while the material value of manual child work in the old oikos
benefitted the whole family, the material worth of children’s schoolwork is credited
to the accounts of the new oikos, namely, the national and corporate economy
22 Sociology 687
(besides the advantage accruing to children themselves as persons). At the same

time, the child family remains the main unit that defrays the expenses of children’s
upbringing. It should hardly be surprising that parents have historically responded
by reducing the number of children they have.
Generational Contract. Perhaps we should not, in the old oikos, talk about
intergenerational solidarity in terms of a contract but rather of a covenant – an
unwritten and unspoken agreement rather than a formalized one. The covenant
implied that everyone assumed an age-specific role in the community’s division of
labor: children worked and contributed as soon as they could; adults of working age
produced (and reproduced!), and the products were shared with both the children and
the elderly. Nobody suggests that this system was without its frictions and tensions,
but it was transparent: everybody knew her or his role, and attempts to free ride could
not happen with impunity. Even childless persons might jeopardize their own sup-
port in old age if they neglected to play their part in meeting all requirements in the
local community, for instance childrearing. Consciously or not, we are here realizing
true intergenerational relationships within the old oikos.
The new oikos, on the other hand, has a formalized generational contract. The
technicalities may differ from country to country, but in principle, they have
become individualized in the sense that each and everybody with an income is
saving money during their active-working years to be collected in old age. This is
typically a so-called pay-as-you-go technicality: the savings you make in your
active years are used, among other things, as pensions for your parents’ generation,
while your own pension is released from current savings made when you have
retired. These savings are made by the next adult generation to come and not by
your very own children, and that is the point, that is, it is this which changes the
intergenerational nexus from being relationships to becoming relations. Nothing,
however, has changed in the fact that in any oikos – old or new – it is the succeeding
generation that provides for the preceding one.22
Demographic Change. The age composition of a population is in the first place
a dependent variable; it is a result of changes in and the interactions between other
parameters. However, the outcome of these changes and interactions is a dynamic
factor in itself in need of interpretation. Starting out from the historical caesura
mentioned above, the demographic transition was one of the most dramatic events
in terms of a declining mortality followed by a declining fertility, the interaction of
which finally resulted in an almost reversed age composition. To put it crudely and
briefly, during the twentieth century, the proportion of children have more or less
halved, while the proportion of the elderly has tripled or quadrupled. The compo-
sition is somewhat different from country to country, but the trend is unequivocally
the same, with the result that currently the relative proportion of young and old is
approximately the same, but within a few decades, the proportion of elderly will
everywhere in the developed world outnumber that of children.
Although without, necessarily, any purposeful direction, quantities often assume
qualitative consequences. I presume this is the case concerning the changed age
composition. As Preston remarked (1984), one might have assumed that a smaller
proportion of children might have given them a more privileged position as far as
688 J. Qvortrup
the struggle for resources is concerned. The opposite has been the case. Even if
children within a family may claim and actually obtain distributive justice, at the
societal level they risk becoming worse off. One reason is that the declining birth
rate is also producing far more households without children (in Scandinavian
countries, this type increased from circa a quarter to three quarters of all households
in the twentieth century). This reduces the number of households and adults in
general with an obligation and the willingness to invest commitment, time, and costs
in raising children. The risk of a low income and poverty thus increases more for the
young than for other age groups (see Preston; see also Kuznets23). One final reason
may be political in the sense that the elderly are voters. If one adds to the elderly the
number of persons in other childless households, the economic vulnerability of
children is aggravated; they do not themselves have a political constituency, and
there is a dwindling number of adults who seem willing to rally round them.
Against this demographic background, we can formulate some intergenerational
corollaries. While in an old oikos, everybody is obliged to share both duties and
products, in the new oikos, it has become both easy and attractive to be free riders.
Corporate society does not grasp why it should carry any responsibility for the costs
of raising children (even though it does expect to receive a well-educated labor
force), and adults with no or merely a single child are equally uncomprehending as
to their role in this intergenerational exchange (even though they do expect care in
old age from other peoples’ children).
The severance of production and reproduction has only strengthened the
misconception that childhood is not an integrated part of the social structure. Children
have lost their status as contributors to the social fabric in the here and now because
schooling has never been realized as an integral activity in the social division of labor;
by the same token, children’s schoolwork as a precondition for rescuing pension
schemes was obscured. In both cases, the position of children was misrepresented; it
was depersonalized as the connection between generations changed from relation-
ships to relations, and this abstraction went along with its being disguised. They were,
to use another terminology, sentimentalized within the family as the household lost
its position as a dominant oikos. Childhood was exposed to a structural indifference
as the national and corporate economies became dominant.
22.9 Childhood and Politics
As I have said before, the key factor in bringing new social studies of childhood to
the fore was not grounded in a new perception of the social problems of children nor
was it based on a specific wish to rescue children, as it had always been the case, for
instance, for child savers’ movements. The idea was rather an academic one in
terms of grasping childhood as a continuously changing, yet permanent social
category, or in Stinchcombe’s words, a “pervasive” category.
This is not to say that social studies of childhood in my understanding did not
have improvements to childhood on the agenda and thereby improvements to
children’s lives. Such intentions were there – perhaps not very explicitly, and not
22 Sociology 689
in terms of formulating a social policy program. I should probably be a little

cautious here, because there is no doubt that many scholars within what we now
call social studies of childhood understand themselves as being dedicated to
fulfilling a mission on behalf of children, indeed on behalf of the individual child.
While underlining the difference between a forward-looking perspective and
a perspective which is directed toward impacting on the life space of childhood or
childhood as a social form, I will necessarily come to repeat themes already
mentioned above or rather illustrate what has already been said. The question is,
as alluded to already, whether we are, on the one hand, primarily interested in social
policy for the individual child with an eye to his or her well-being later in life
(well becoming, so-called) and perhaps even more the health of the social fabric as
a whole or whether, on the other hand, our main focus will be a politics for
childhood as a pervasive social category, that is, while children are still children.
If the former is preferred, we can have no guarantee that children’s presence is
a main concern – on the contrary, its deliberate goal is to serve “the next genera-
tion” in the sense of children who have become adults. If, however, we retain
a focus on childhood as a space of welfare in its own right, we will necessarily be
directing our interest toward childhood in the here and now, which implies that the
context and framework within which children live will be a target of deliberate
politics, the purposes of which will be to restructure the parameters which form
childhood and to see them adapted to children’s life worlds. Such a politics for
childhood does not primarily look forward to adulthood; it is not a politics for
children’s so-called well becoming, but it is a politics that will enhance current
children’s opportunities to lead a good life while they are still children. The chance
of realizing such a goal is so much the better if and when the framework of
childhood within which children live is deliberately optimized as an opportunity
space. There is, however, no guarantee that such an opportunity space will be made
fully available to children because other and stronger interests may get in its way as
major contenders. In addition, and potentially much more dangerous for realizing
“the best childhood imaginable,” is the simultaneous accomplishment of adult
interests in all their variety, that is, the results of all planned undertakings and
unplanned efforts on the part of adult activity. We can, in other words, not take it for
granted that the interests of adulthood and the interests of childhood coincide,
whereas the resources that generational segments reach out for will be overlapping
and therefore objects of competition.
The issue of childhood and politics as presented here will be divided into
the following parts: (1) children/childhood as a nontargeted object of politics,
(2) children/childhood as a targeted object of politics, (3) children/childhood as
an instrumentalized object of politics, and (4) children as subject in politics.
22.9.1 Children/Childhood as a Nontargeted Object of Politics
One has to be aware of the fact that quite a lot of politics has unintended consequences,
that is, consequences that were neither foreseen nor necessarily wanted. We must, in
690 J. Qvortrup
other words, make a distinction between politics which aims at impacting on children
or childhood, on the one hand, and politics which does not have this aim but
nevertheless may have considerable consequences – for better or worse.
One might argue that, since this kind of politics is not directed toward childhood,
there is no reason for us to consider it. This is, though, an untenable argument – in
fact, I would suggest that much of what happens to childhood, toward forming and
transforming childhood, and much of what influences children and their daily lives
in fact is instigated, invented, or simply takes place without having children and
childhood in mind at all. If this is true, the means either to prevent the negative or
promote the positive in such politics must follow a diagnosis as far as children and
childhood are concerned. Why are so many children poor? Why are children
densely packed in housing more often than other groups? The reason is not likely
to be a conspiracy against children. Rather, in terms of what looks like cognitive
dissonance, it simply happened that way – due to inattentiveness, structural indif-
ference, or whatever.
It is not difficult to find examples of the kind of politics or sociopolitical or
politico-economic events that could be defined in terms of an unintentional influ-
ence on childhood or children’s life worlds: it can be any societal, political, or
economic event or development of a certain magnitude. Elder’s magnum opus,
referred to above, is an obvious example. Let me mention some other examples that
are all too familiar.
During large stretches of at least the second half of the twentieth century, there
was a dramatic increase in women’s participation in the labor market. This devel-
opment was not directed toward meeting children’s needs – many would even say
the contrary, although this is far from certain. Regardless, it was a development that
had a great impact on childhood and on children’s lives, for better or worse. First, it
obviously increased monetary affluence in the family. Secondly, in many countries
it drew with it in its wake the establishment of kindergartens, crèches, after-school
arrangements, and the like, where children are forced to stay during considerable
parts of their childhood. The latter will be an example of a policy consciously
targeting childhood, but the former – women’s entry into the labor market – did not
in the first place include reflections about children or childhood but rather made
such reflections necessary in the second place.
If we look a bit further back in history – to, for instance, the beginning of “the
century of the child,” as it was labeled by Ellen Key (1900) – we will observe quite
a few events that were characteristic of the transition toward a modern, industrial
society, such as industrialization, mechanization, urbanization, secularization, indi-
vidualization, and democratization (see Coleman above). These headings, as it
were, represent transformations in society at large and were answers to demands
about making economic growth continue. If we were to ask where the children are,
the answer would initially be that they were not considered; they were not the target
as such. However, if we nevertheless go on to look for children, we shall soon find
out – as discussed above – that they were impacted dramatically by the trans-
formations that did not have them in mind. This can be seen in another list of
simultaneous events: the abolition of classic child labor, child savers movements,
22 Sociology 691
mass scholarization, fertility reduction, sentimentalization, and new scientific

interest – to mention the more important and conspicuous among the new variables.
The point being made here is that the transformation of childhood was not really
the result of a deliberate politics set out with this explicit purpose in mind.
Nevertheless, one can hardly underestimate the range and significance of the impact
on childhood of macroeconomic, macro-political, and macro-social parameters.
Childhood never became the same again after its passage through the industriali-
zation period.
The first lesson of this is that, whether we like it or not, childhood is inadver-
tently part of society and of societal politics. Any effort to exclude it or to set
it aside simply reflects wishful thinking (see Garbarino 1986; Zelizer 2005;
Hollingshead 1949). Therefore, the second lesson is that one has to be unremittingly
attentive to consequences for childhood of all kinds of politics, including those that
do not have childhood in mind.
In some countries, ministries for childhood have been established. This is where,
one would suspect, childhood politics and policies are made. No doubt about it.
Nevertheless, one might assume that decisions made in ministries of finance,
housing, transport, urban planning, and similar overarching ministries have
a much greater impact on childhood than ministries dedicated to children as such.
22.9.2 Children/Childhood as a Targeted Object of Politics
There obviously are political initiatives that directly target children and childhood.
We may go through a country’s legislation, or we may look through the UN
Convention on the Rights of the Child (CRC) and find quite a few pieces of
legislation which actually focus on children, whether in terms of protecting them,
providing for them, or enabling them to participate – the 3 P’s in the CRC
(see below). One could also imagine, by the way, that such initiatives may aim at
protecting adult society. When in some countries, like the USA and UK, curfew
bills are enacted, this is likely to be the case.
Often, however, it is not so easy to determine whether certain initiatives or bills
are targeting children, the family, parents, mothers, or somebody else. Is
a kindergarten, for instance, for children or for parents – or for the state and the
trades? At the end of the day, it may well be that kindergartens will be an advantage
for several parties, even if it is also likely that some will benefit more than others
from them.
One may make two distinctions here: one between childhood and children (or
the child), and one between politics and policies. In principle, this would produce
four cells in a matrix. I shall here restrict myself to two of them: politics of
childhood and policies for the child.
The notion of a politics of childhood does not have the individual child in
mind but rather the legal, spatial, temporal, and institutional arrangements available
for children in a given society. We may talk about childhood as a social phenom-
enon, a social construction, a structural form, or the like.24 Its form or architecture
692 J. Qvortrup
depends on parameters such as economy, technology, culture, adult attitudes, and

the interplay between them. Since these parameters change and continuously
assume new configurations, childhood is never the same, even if it is of the same
nature. You may compare childhood in Sweden in 2007 with childhood in Sweden
in 1907, and you will realize in your mind that you keep talking about childhood but
also that it has changed. It has changed due to the fact that society and its industry
has changed – but also because the state may have intervened to correct unintended
changes (see discussions above).
One might say, metaphorically, that children live within a house of childhood –
which is what it has come to look like as a result of both intended interventions and
unintended consequences. They live there for a certain period only; they then move
out of the house of childhood and first into the house of adolescence and then into
the house of adulthood, which likewise constitutes cultural institutions with
a certain permanency. The notion of politics is an answer to questions of orienta-
tion, of where to go, and it includes ideological questions.
If we thus talk about the politics of childhood, we will have in mind political
decision about what we as a society want with or for childhood, that is, decisions
about the framework of childhood, about the place of childhood in an adult-
dominated society, about children’s rights to vote, and about mainly large-scale
or macro issues dealing with children’s life worlds in general terms. What
childhood looks like depends on historical period or civilization, and a politics of
childhood is about how to design childhood structurally and how consciously
to change the architecture of childhood. We are interested in the situation and
development of childhood as structural segment of society.
Policies for the child, on the other hand, are more responses to practical
problems and will result in piecemeal decisions. Moss and Petrie (2002, p. 100),
for instance, make a plea for what they call the whole child. They are likely to be
speaking for many students of childhood when they advocate as a necessity the
acquisition of as much and as detailed information as possible about the individual
child in order to make a holistic description of the individual child; they are, in
other words, making a plea for personhood rather than category (loc. cit.). Their
approach is sympathetic and agreeable within a social policy context, where one is
forced to determine whether a particular individual, in this case a particular child, is
entitled to receive support from the public purse or the social policy apparatus,
typically at the municipality level. This approach enables us to distinguish between
children with different needs and demands due to the gravity of their personal
position. “We face,” the authors contend, “a myriad of different children, created
from different discourses: the ‘schoolchild’, the ‘child in need’, the ‘looked after
child’, ‘the child of child development’ and so on” (ibid., p. 21).
In their jointly authored book, Petrie is cited from an earlier work for saying that
children hold different social class positions, they differ as to age, gender, ethnicity –
and there are interactions between these . . . an individual disabled child is not an
abstraction whose life is to be purely within the context of disability. Each disabled
child has a complex social identity. A disabled child may be Black or White, male or
female, with parents employed or unemployed. . .. (Petrie in ibid., pp. 22–23)
22 Sociology 693
There are, in other words, innumerable children, and each of them is a whole
child with, as they say, “a personal history and personal relationships” (ibid.,
p. 100). It is possible, I believe, in principle and to some extent also in practice to
take into account “the complex social identity” of each child. It is the task of
a social worker or a clinical psychologist to make a holistic description of any child
who is asking for help or on whose behalf help is asked. Their toolbox for helping
this particular child we may call a social policy for the child, even though no policy
is formulated with only one child in mind. The instruments in this toolbox are not
what a structural sociology of childhood makes use of; it should rather advocate
a politics for childhood, as discussed above. At best, of course, the two must play
well together and reinforce each other’s advantages.
22.9.3 Children/Childhood as an Instrumentalized Object in Politics

(An Outcome Approach)
Children have always assumed a particular role, namely, that of being raw material
for the production of an adult population. This is why we incessantly talk about
them as our future or as the next generation. This way of talking gives us an
inevitable suspicion that childhood is not our main target but merely an instrument
for vicarious purposes. It is an answer to all adults’ question to all children: what are
you going to be when you grow up? Typically, adults are not interested in what
children are while they are children.
Arguably, children’s role as raw material or as a resource is historically the most
enduring and most dominant view of children, but despite the enduring view, the
arguments in its favor may change completely. Thus, for instance, it was once
common knowledge that children should be smacked or spanked, the argument
being that this was necessary for a successful future adult life. “Spare the rod and
spoil the child” is only one among many adages to this effect. As we have become
wiser, we have realized that one should not punish children physically. Interest-
ingly, however, our goal has not changed: we still want to produce a better adult.
The new version, though, has the advantage of establishing a win-win situation:
children are supposed to be happy while developing into ideal adults. A crucial
question in this situation would be: how would we act toward children if the winds
changed once again and new insights proved that the prospects for a successful
adulthood were unambiguously in favor of smacking them?
I am afraid we know the answer. Throughout history, children have been punished –
to be on the safe side! As late as the turn to this century, only seven countries had
laws explicitly prohibiting the physical punishment of children (A League Table of
Child Maltreatment Deaths in Rich Countries 2003, Fig. 13), and if one is to believe
the philosopher George Lakoff (2002), this is an important marker which in the
USA distinguishes “liberals” from “conservatives”: the conservatives prepare for
the next generation by slapping the current one – allegedly in its best interest.
A parallel to the issue of physical punishment is, one might argue, the modern
social investment strategy (see Olk 2007). An outcome policy for dealing with
694 J. Qvortrup
children is as old as one can possibly look back, but it has recently gained broad
popularity and momentum as a result of being supported by renowned scholars such
as the 2000 Nobel laureate in economics James Heckman (2009 and ▶ Chap. 14,
“Economics of Child Well-Being,” this volume), welfare researcher Gøsta
Esping-Andersen, who was hired by the European Commission to formulate
a “child-centered social investment strategy,” and sociologist Anthony Giddens
(1999), who for New Labour in the UK masterminded the so-called Third Way that
included a clear-cut outcome perspective for investing in children, welcomed,
reformulated, and attempted to be implemented by the then prime and finance
ministers Tony Blair and Gordon Brown, with the widespread acclamation of
center-left governments around the turn of the century.
The gist of the outcome perspective is the preponderance of results over process. At
the end of the day, it is the quality of the produced adult – not least in economic terms –
which determines the success of one’s investment strategy. If it can be established that
certain investments are more effective than others in creating a useful labor force, both
public and private agents will consequently place their money accordingly.
Common to these scholars’ and politicians’ ideas are, more or less explicitly,
sympathetic and compassionate attempts to combine investments in children with
positive outcomes. In Esping-Andersen’s words, we are foreseeing a positive-sum
strategy, a win/win situation that favors children both in the here and now and in
a future economy and welfare society:
If poverty harms children’s life chances, and if it also creates negative external-
ities, we see the contours of a positive-sum strategy: minimizing child poverty now
will yield an individual and social dividend in the future. And in the far-off future,
it should diminish the risks of old age poverty (and possibly also the need for
early retirement). (Esping-Andersen 2002: 55, emphasis in original; see also
Esping-Andersen and Sarasa 2002).
It is at first glance difficult to see what is wrong about such a statement; in fact,
this author does not wish to criticize a program that aims to achieve merely positive
ends. As already mentioned, Esping-Andersen’s and the European Union’s strategy
is close to the so-called Third Way and the social investment state in the UK.
However, Giddens’ formulation becomes a little more intriguing when he says
that the guiding principle of the Third Way “is investment in human capital
wherever possible, rather than direct provision of economic maintenance” (emphasis
in original, quoted in Lister 2003: 429). One may in fact suspect from this quote that
Giddens is making the flow of money from the state to the citizen, whether this is
called investment or maintenance, contingent on its profitability. Heckman is rea-
soning similarly when he argues that “[t]he optimal policy is to invest relatively
more in the early lives of the most disadvantaged children.... For later periods, the . . .
optimal policy slightly favors more advantaged children” (Heckman 2009: 20–21
et passim, my emphasis). The interesting point, in other words, is not only the flow of
money or services as such, but also the motive for their allocation.
The crucial question is if and to what extent children have a right to and
a legitimate claim on societal resources, independent of their profitability and
outcome. An approach that claims to be child-friendly and child-oriented,
22 Sociology 695
as Esping-Andersen’s does, (see Esping-Andersen 2009) should recommend

resources being used for children without reservation. Child poverty should be
done away with from a moral standpoint and not be made conditional on anything
else, for instance, on a prosperous economy some decades ahead. As Myles and
Quadagno express it:
If Third Wayism has a soft spot, it is for children: The soft spot comes less from
benign spirits than from hard-headed economic considerations about the longer-term
implications for economic performance of a large number of children growing up
poorly educated or in poor health. Children matter because “human capital” forma-
tion matters. (Myles and Quadagno 2000: 166; see also Lister 2003; Olk 2007).
Now, are there any reasons to believe that the investment strategy or the social
investment state (the Third Way) is running the risk of having to choose between
children’s current well-being and future positive outcomes? Can one imagine that
the public is reluctant to invest in children if no or merely a meager outcome is
foreseen? As noted above, Giddens can be interpreted in this way, and Blair and
Brown have made statements that follow suit (see Qvortrup 2009).
It is easy to agree with Esping-Andersen’s proposal for a win-win situation in
which children’s well-being, while they are still children, is made a precondition for
their futurity as adults. The crucial question is, however, what adult society will
choose if – God forbid! – promising prospects for our future society are contingent
on children being exposed to strenuous lives and rigid pedagogies (i.e., a lose-win
situation)? As for the physical punishment of children (see above), the likelihood of
opting for parents, adults, and adult society under such conditions is, I am afraid,
overwhelming (see Qvortrup 2009; see also Zuckerman 2003).
The similarities in perspectives and approaches between economics and devel-
opmental psychology are striking – both are forward-looking, and the yardstick of
their success seems to be attainment and fulfillment in adult life (see also Davis
1940; Blake 1981). The question is whether this strong alliance,25 backed up by
trendy political strands, serves the interests of childhood as a space of welfare in its
own right and thus a good life for children while they are still children, or whether
these prospects are made dependent on the likelihood of their making positive
contributions to any futurity?
22.9.4 Children as Subject in Politics
There are these days many scholarly considerations and much public debate about
children’s rights and children as citizens. These discussions have much to say in
general and also in more particular terms about children’s status in society and
about what children can legitimately expect as members of society. The UN
Convention on the Rights of the Child (CRC) contains quite a few articles which
colloquially are often divided into one group of articles dealing with protection,
another with provision, and a third group with participation rights (the so-called 3 P’s).
In terms of children’s subject status, their participation rights are most relevant.
Participation is here primarily understood in terms of rights that bear similarities to
696 J. Qvortrup
human and civil rights in the Human Rights Declaration. Article 12 of the CRC thus
speaks of assuring the child who is capable of forming his or her own view the right
to express those views freely in matters affecting the child: in Article 13, the child is
given freedom of expression; in Article 14, freedom of thought, conscience, or
religion; in Article 15, freedom of association and peaceful assembly; and in Article
16, the right to privacy.
These are all articles giving the child subjectivity, but there are a number of
limitations. Most significant in my view is the limitation in Article 12 which states
that only in matters affecting the child does he or she have a right to express views
freely. This is a severe limitation, but one which is probably symptomatic of the
child as a political subject in our societies.
In discussions not only of children’s rights but also in general terms about
citizenship, researchers and politicians are leaving us in a kind of wilderness by
demonstrating that children have not really been thought about. Thus, Marshall
(1950), the British political scientist who wrote a seminal book after the Second
World War about citizenship, did not find a place for children; the US philosopher
of law John Rawls (1971) was equally perplexed, and the German-British sociol-
ogist Ralf Dahrendorf (2006) directly talked about children as “a vexing problem” –
in other words, an irritating and annoying problem disturbing serious discussions
among adult people about mature persons.
It is in this connection, and highly relevant for my theme of Childhood and
Politics, remarkably that the academic discipline which has shown least interest in
the new strands of childhood studies is political science. If any curiosity about
children is shown at all, it is exclusively concentrated on political socialization, that
is, how children are best brought up to become responsible political persons, which
is supposed to require a certain level of political activity, and in any case sufficient
to fulfill a democratic system’s minimum expectations: to cast one’s vote.
This expression of citizenship – the demonstration of the real sovereign, the
people as a voter – is one which the CRC does not mention at all as an option. One
reason is perhaps that such an expression would transcend what is said about the
child’s own affairs, which is apparently understood in a very narrow sense. The idea
that larger structures might influence the child quite directly seems to be beyond the
purview of the CRC. Another reason is clearly related to this, namely, that the child
is not supposed to have the competence to vote. The child is simply politically
immature.
I do not want to discuss this contention as such; it may be true, but in this case,
three questions have to be asked. First, if competence is the main criterion for
voting, have we then made sure that all politically incompetent persons are
prevented from voting, irrespective of age? Secondly, would society incur any
harm if children were voters? Thirdly, would the child or children experience any
harm, injustice, or unfairness by not having access to the ballot?
Regarding the first question, one might make reference to Hilary Rodham – now
better known as Clinton – who, many years ago as a child lawyer, made the
provocative suggestion that we “reverse the presumption of incompetence and
instead assume all individuals are competent until proven otherwise” (quoted by
22 Sociology 697
Lasch 1992, p. 75). What she was suggesting is thus that one cannot take it for
granted that persons under a given, arbitrary age are politically incompetent. It is
not difficult to find someone under that age who has that competence; also it is fully
possible to find quite a few above that age who are not politically competent. If this
is so, one is faced with a problem of fairness, which is not addressed but merely
glossed over with reference to expediency, while assuming that everybody
under 18 years of age is incompetent. Nobody would contest as a fact the total
impracticality of testing not only children’s competence, but also that of each and
every member of the society. I do not think this is a trivial problem, and much
thinking and writing have been invested in it. However, a democratic problem
cannot be dismissed with reference to inconvenience.
Regarding the second question, it would be hard to suggest fairly that society as
such would be running any risk if children were granted suffrage. My assumption
would be that the distribution of votes would not deviate grossly from a normal
outcome. I will not dismiss the claim that it might be disturbing for conventional
wisdom; it might, on the other hand, be a way of emphasizing responsibility for
communal values.
Regarding the third question, it is much more important to ask whether, given
their disenfranchised status, children have proper political representation? It is
worth recalling that in European countries we are actually talking about some
20–25% of the population (those under 18), in other parts of the world even
more, who cannot claim a political platform in the sense of being directly
represented politically. Now, it could be and often is argued that they have good
representatives in their parents.
Let us look at this argument. The main assumption as far as voting behavior is
concerned is that people vote in accordance with what they assume to be their best
interests. Thus, adults without children, among them the elderly, are supposed to have
their own and not children’s best interests in mind when casting their ballots. One
cannot even be sure that all parents lend support to children’s interests when voting,
but let us in this argument assume that the majority of them do that. If this is so,
children will be represented by most parents currently living with them. We know
that in Scandinavian countries, for instance, there will be children in merely a quarter
of all households; we also know that an ever larger group of persons are over 60 years
of age and that this proportion of the population will increase. We can calculate that,
within a relatively short time, more than half of the electorate will be over 50 years of
age. The concrete forecasts we cannot be certain about, but these demographic
developments do not work in favor of children’s interests.
If we refrain from considering the possibility of letting children vote, there is the
final possibility of furnishing parents with additional ballots – one for each child.
A couple with two children would therefore receive four ballot papers at each
election – whether they should all be given to the mother or to the parent of the
same sex or opposite sex as the child is another matter (see Offe 1993; Hinrichs
2002) The proposal may cause constitutional problems which I would, in case,
leave to political scientists, lawyers, and politicians to deal with – with an eye also
to any perverse effects that may accrue from it.
698 J. Qvortrup
The point is that children are arguably not well represented currently, and given
predicted demographic developments, there are no prospects that this imbalance
will change. We can therefore conclude our deliberations on children as political
subjects by suggesting that our system does not leave channels for children to act as
such and that an increasingly aging population is not likely to establish such
channels.
Children are evidently subjects in many arenas; only, when it comes to the
societal level, they have hardly gained recognition in any of them. Their school-
work might be one prominent candidate, but as discussed above, this work is not an
acknowledged activity in its own right. Another candidate may be their role as
consumers (see Brusdal, ▶ Chap. 48, “Well-Being and Children in a Consumer
Society,” this volume), but although children on this important stage do have an
impact on the market by spending their own or rather their parents’ or grandparents’
money and influencing parents’ choice of consumer products, they remain depen-
dent on adults’ discretion and whim.
A more autonomous activity, perhaps, about which children, compared with
their parents and in particular their grandparents, exert sovereignty is their use of
computer and other technological devices and gadgets. As Mead argued many years
ago (1970), the rapidity of technological changes in this respect may eventually
imply a shift in power relations between generations. A materialization of these
prospects still remains to be seen.
22.10 A Minority Category?
What kind of category is childhood? What kind of group or collectivity are

children? A pervasive feature of our society is, as Stinchcombe contended (see
above), that children assume a subservient position vis-à-vis adults. What is the
nature of this subservience? We shall not call it an exploitative relation as we do
about class relations. Could we call it patriarchy with a concept that otherwise
seems reserved for gender relations? Or could we use the notion of discrimination
in a way otherwise used about repressed ethnic groups?
I would suggest minority group as a proper notion; given that there are many
groups that may qualify as a minority group, I would add that the nature of
children’s subservience is paternalistic. In Louis Wirth’s classical definition,
a minority group is any group of people who because of their physical or cultural
characteristics are singled out from others in the society in which they live for
differential and unequal treatment, and who therefore regard themselves as objects
of collective discrimination. The existence of a minority in the society implies the
existence of a corresponding dominant group with higher social status and greater
privileges. Minority status carries with it the exclusion from full participation in the
life of society (Wirth 1945: 347).
Wirth did not have children or childhood in mind when he formulated his
definition, but the latter is nonetheless sufficiently broad to include quite a few
discriminated or marginalized groups. First of all, it must be made clear that the
22 Sociology 699
word “minority” does not refer to any quantitative attribute. Even if, for instance,
black people in South Africa under apartheid were in the majority, they were
a minority group in this sense. As far as children as a collectivity are concerned,
they are indeed singled out because of their physical, perhaps even their cultural,
characteristics. It is obvious also, as has been a major argument in this chapter, that
they face a corresponding dominant group – adults or adulthood as a category –
with higher social status and greater privileges. Finally, it cannot be denied that
children are excluded from full participation in the life of society (cf. discussions
about children’s rights and citizenship).
As has been done above, it is helpful to distinguish between a family and
a societal level when talking about adults or adulthood as the corresponding
dominant group. This dominant group may on the one hand consist of parents
vis-à-vis their own children or of adults as a collectivity, that is, all adults in society
vis-à-vis the whole group of minors. In between these two, we find quite a few
corresponding groups in various institutions, for instance, teachers vis-à-vis pupils.
Efforts to come to terms with characterizing children have been attempted. Hood-
Williams dealt with the relationship between parents and children at the family level.
His conclusion was that over time nothing had in principle changed in power
relationships between parents and their children. He chose the notion of
a persistent age patriarchy, where domination is identical to the “authoritarian
power of command” (with reference to Max Weber – see Hood-Williams 1990: 158).
Oldman, on the other hand, uses a class perspective at a societal level. He
suggests that we might consider adults and children as constituting classes, in the
sense of being social categories which exist principally by their economic opposi-
tion to each other, and in the ability of the dominant class (adults) to exploit
economically the activities of the subordinate class (children). (Oldman 1994: 44,
italic in original).
There is an undeniable consequence in Oldman’s analysis when his controversial
use of class is followed by the notion of exploitation, indeed economic exploitation.
His point is that children’s work, for instance, schoolwork, is a precondition for
what he calls child work, that is, adult work exploiting children’s work.
Boulding also uses classes when she categorizes children as objects of class
action, which in her wording refers to legal action taken with regard to any category
of person, such as women, children, the elderly or specific ethnic or racial minor-
ities, on the basis of membership in that category rather than on the basis of the
individual situation or need. (Boulding 1979: 97).
I would rather see this legal action toward a category as one element of
a definition of a minority. However, there is at least one element from Wirth’s
definition which must cause problems as far as children are concerned. When he
suggests that, as a consequence of being differentially and unequally treated,
members of a minority group should “regard themselves as objects of collective
discrimination,” we will probably have to admit that this is the exception rather than
the rule – in any case, it will be difficult to see children as a collectivity organizing
themselves as a minority group against adults. Although we do find examples of
protests on the part of children (see, e.g., Humphries 1995), most children will
700 J. Qvortrup
rather, I suggest, see their position as destiny or better act in accordance with a so-
called slave mentality, that is, an internalized acceptance of their lot.
This lack of appreciation of their own discrimination26 does not mean denying
that discrimination actually does or could take place, exactly as an “in itself”
class relation may exist irrespective of a “for-itself” understanding of an exploited
working class. A consciousness about their minority status is likely to be the much
less visible among children the more sentimentalized their being is at the family level
and the more profound their protected status is. It is exactly this overwhelming
protection which may cause us to talk about paternalism as this minority group’s
most salient feature, rather than age patriarchy, as Hood-Williams would have it (see
above). Marginalization may be protective but also at the same time – or alterna-
tively – paternalistic. As I have suggested elsewhere:
Paternalism is the kind of power, which is exerted benevolently; in this case,
there is no reason to believe in anything than good intentions on the side of single
adults, in particular parents, teachers etc.; actually, paternalistic arguments gener-
ally hold that those marginalized on paternalistic grounds are finally the beneficia-
ries of their exclusion, while the benefactors are burdened with responsibility and
power. (Qvortrup 1994: 21–2).27
The structural form we call childhood is, in other words, a minority category
subjected to paternalism exerted by its corresponding dominance category
“adulthood.”28
22.11 Conclusion
In the modern world, there has been a secular trend toward the sentimentalization of
children; there has also been much discussion about children’s increasing role as
participants in the so-called negotiation family. Nevertheless, I believe that Hood-
Williams has a point in claiming that “children remain dependent subjects even if
attempts may be made to mask that dependency’ – indeed, how could it be
otherwise, ‘given that the structural relations between parents and children are
unchanged” (Hood-Williams 1990: 164).
At the societal level, children’s benevolent protection is endorsed by parents
and politicians alike as a condition for the survival and vitality of the everlasting
“project childhood” (see Sgritta 2009). Without accomplishing this project suc-
cessfully, any society’s hopes and prospects for its future are jeopardized. As
suggested above, if one were forced to choose between prioritizing the interests of
childhood or those of adult society, the latter will necessarily triumph. Despite
affectionate and concerned intentions on the part of well-intentioned adults,
structural indifference (Kaufmann 2005, pp. 152ff) prevails, while structurally
conditioned advantages for children are only maintained as long as they also favor
the social fabric and the social order.
Economic and political developments happen to a large extent behind our backs
without giving children and childhood sufficient consideration. Even when politics
and policies deliberately target children and childhood, the much more dominant
22 Sociology 701
influence on children’s lives comes, I suggest, from nontargeted and

instrumentalized actions. It remains important to target children directly, but we
should perhaps be much more attentive to all the influence on children which we did
not plan and which so far we have remained uninformed about.
The idea of children as political subjects is, now as before, a fairy tale.
Notes
1. His views on child and childhood are very conventional; they are represented, for instance, in
an article on “childhood” (“Enfance”) in a pedagogical dictionary, written together with an
educationalist more interested in psychology than sociology. They wrote: “In everything the
child is characterised by the very instability of his nature, which is the law of growth. The
educationalist is presented not with a person wholly formed – not a complete work or
a finished product – but with a becoming, an incipient being, a person in the process of
formation” (Buisson and Durkheim 1979, p. 150; orig. 1911, p. 552; italics in original).
Interestingly, the notion of becoming is used here (translated from the French “devenir”). In
a sense thus, Durkheim and Buisson (or perhaps rather their translator) were the first ones to
use this notion. It must, though, be added that it was used without any critical edge and without
any ideas of the child as a “being.” On the contrary, if not used, as in the article quoted here –
tantamount to weakness and imperfection – it happens, even worse, to be compared to
despotism: “A despot is like a child: he has the child’s weaknesses because he is not master
of himself” Durkheim (2002).
2. For students interested in the history of childhood, this early edition is though very useful also
for its references to sources prior to 1930.
3. As to the timing of the onset of social studies of childhood, it is interesting to note the temporal
overlapping with the appearance of the UNCRC. The negotiations commenced in 1979 at
the initiative of the Polish government and were concluded in 1989 when the convention was
adopted at the United Nations.
4. “Men make their own history, but they do not make it as they please; they do not make it under
self-selected circumstances, but under circumstances existing already, given and transmitted
from the past. The tradition of all dead generations weighs like a nightmare on the brains of the
living” (Marx 1963, from The Eighteenth Brumaire of Louis Bonaparte). Or in the words of
UK sociologist Abrams (1982, p. 227): “. . . society must be understood as a process
constructed historically by individuals who are constructed historically by society.”
5. Quotations from Honig, Leu and Nissen, and Zeiher are translated from the German by the
author.
6. For an agency approach in this volume, see also Corsaro 2011.
7. CBS Evening News, NBC Nightly News, Newsweek, and Time.
8. This could be translated also as inconsiderateness, thoughtlessness, inattentiveness, and even
recklessness.
9. Ariès would probably have approved of Kaufmann; interestingly, Ariès was also
a conservative, indeed, according to himself, a reactionary! See Ariès 1990.
10. Yet, the periods or phases are not dealt with similarly. We do not talk about adulthood as
a transitional period or a preparatory phase to old age or about old age as the outcome of
adulthood, even though we may anticipate it in the sense of making plans for it. The reason for
the differential appreciation of life phases is clearly enough the dominance of the work line
over any existential valuation. Adulthood may be seen, as Davis (1940) sees it, as the most
important life phase socially. The question is what implications for the other life phases can be
discerned. Interesting and ironic is furthermore that, despite this assessment of adulthood, we
often in our discourse talk about childhood as the most important life phase, though this
702 J. Qvortrup
assessment seems to be finally determined by what is called “child outcome” – that is, success
one way or the other in adulthood!
11. While a structural approach to childhood is less interested in the socialization of the individual
child, it logically takes a great interest in socialization as a parameter, that is, the phenomenon
at a meta-level.
12. Interestingly, at the societal level too, we may talk about a developmental stage, even though it
can be seen as controversial, for example, in terms of phylogenesis and ontogenesis. Despite
the temptation, I shall not take up this discussion here.
13. Or only in fiction: P. G. James writes in her novel The Children of Men (1992) about the
devastating effect when suddenly no children are born to a society over a period of more than
two decades.
14. We see during the current financial crisis that young people in particular are exposed as
demonstrated by the comparatively high youth unemployment rates. In this chapter, youth is
not specifically taken on board in the analysis, but otherwise the current situation would
provoke a conflict between youth and adulthood as generational units or collectivities. It
would not necessarily establish a conflict between youngsters and adults as individuals: in fact
quite a few adults will side with young people in their struggle against youth unemployment.
15. The two disciplines do not seem to be “equal partners.” Elder acknowledges a fundamental
asymmetry between historians and psychologists. The relevant research agenda established on
the basis of the collaboration is “largely a historian’s enterprise,” while “the developmentalists
can assist in providing a vocabulary for the research agenda” (Elder et al. 1993, pp. 248–49).
On cooperation between social scientists and psychologists, (see also Devereux 1970, p. 28).
16. Leaving aside Oedipus, the perhaps most prominent of them all – Turgenev’s novel Fathers
and Sons – does, though in a figurative sense, contain significant references to the political
scene in tsarist Russia. There is, besides, an overflowing number of autobiographical books in
which relationships to parents and other adults are portrayed; see, for instance, the Swedish
author Jan Myrdal and the Austrian author Thomas Bernhard.
17. In fact, even in German the distinction is not completely unambiguous; thus a love relation-
ship is described as “ein Liebesverh€altnis” where one would have expected “eine
Liebesbeziehung,” if consistency had prevailed.
18. The grand exception must be the dramatic increases in divorce rates since mid-twentieth
century.
19. These similarities were true for both girls and adult women on the one hand and boys and adult
men on the other, whereas a gender difference was distinct and has remained so until our days,
though it is perhaps waning now.
20. The age difference between them was not as large as it appears: Davis (1908–1997); Coleman
(1926–1995).
21. I prefer the oikos terminology to those of Coleman and Davis because they merely point to the
differences between before and now but eschew the similarities.
22. Cf. Mackenroth’s dictum: “. . . all social expenditure must always be covered from the
national economy of the current period” (quoted by Kr€ usselberg 1987; Mackenroth 1952: 41).
23. “If families or households are grouped by their size, as measured by number of persons, the
common finding is that the larger families or households show a larger income per unit. But if
the family or household income is divided by the number of members, per person income is
larger in the smaller families and smaller in the larger units . . . Larger families or households
usually contain a higher proportion of children and a smaller proportion of adults than the
smaller families and households. It follows that children are more concentrated than adults in
larger families and households and, consequently, in families or households with lower per
person income” (Kuznets 1989, p. 370). This is, comments Wintersberger (1994, p. 238), “the
econometric mechanism which condemns children to relative economic deprivation in mod-
ern society.”
24. In her excellent book, Johanna Mierendorff (2010) talks about “das Muster moderner
Kindheit” (pattern of modern childhood).
22 Sociology 703
25. See, for instance, the title of one of Heckman’s articles: “Investing in our young people:
lessons from economics and psychology” (Heckman 2009).
26. Although one of the first expressions a grandchild of mine learned from her older siblings was
“it is unjust!”
27. This definition accords perfectly with the position of Blackstone, who, more than 200 years
ago, held that children are “within the empire of the father,” and therefore their privileges
come from their incapacity. “Infants have various disabilities; but their very disabilities are
privileges” (Blackstone 1979: 441, 452).
28. A different understanding of minority group is found in James, Jenks, and Prout (1998,
pp. 206ff.). Whereas, in this chapter, “minority” is seen as one way of characterizing
childhood as a structural form (what they call the social structural child), the minority child
in their interpretation is one who is waiting (in vain, apparently) to obtain consciousness or
a for-itself status.
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Children’s Well-Being and Interpretive
Reproduction 23
William A. Corsaro
23.1 Introduction
Most theoretical discussion and empirical research on the well-being of children

and youth focus on the policies of national and local governments at a macro level
and the responsibilities and actions of individual adults (parents, teachers, and other
caretakers) at the micro level. The notion of interpretive reproduction extends this
focus on adults and how their actions and interactions at the macro and micro level
affect the well-being of children to a concentration on children themselves and
especially their agency in their collective actions with adults and each other (James
2009; Corsaro 2011).
Based on a series of comparative ethnographies of children’s peer interactions
and cultures over the last 35 years, I have developed and refined the notion of
interpretive reproduction (Corsaro 1992; 2011). The term interpretive captures the
innovative and creative aspects of children’s participation in society. Children
create and participate in their own peer cultures by creatively appropriating infor-
mation from the adult world to address their own peer concerns. The term repro-
duction captures the idea that children are not simply internalizing society and
culture but are actively contributing to cultural production and change. The term
also implies that children are, by their very participation in society, constrained by
the existing social structure and by processes of social reproduction. That is,
children and their childhoods are affected by the societies and cultures of which
they are members.
W.A. Corsaro
Department of Sociology, Indiana University, Bloomington, IN, USA

710 W.A. Corsaro
23.2 Well-Being, Interpretive Reproduction, and Children’s

Peer Cultures
In this chapter, I will not take for granted the importance of how societies and adults
influence the lives of children and youth, but as I noted previously, I will focus on
the agency of children, most especially in their creation of and participation in their
peer cultures. I define peer culture as a stable set of activities or routines, artifacts,
values, and concerns that children produce and share in interaction with peers
(Corsaro and Eder 1990; Corsaro 2003, 2009, 2011).
In this chapter, I examine how children actively contribute to their own well-
being as they create and share their peer cultures and simultaneously contribute to
the adult world. I do this by reviewing theory and research on peer cultures of
preschool children and preadolescents. There are, of course, many important studies
of adolescent peer cultures that are directly in line with the notion of interpretive
reproduction. I refer readers to important work and reviews of work on adolescent
peer cultures (Willis 1990; Kinney 1993; Eder 1995; Lesko 2001; Eder and Nenga
2003; Milner 2006; Ito et al. 2010).
23.3 Peer Culture and Well-Being of Preschool Children
In my work, I have identified a wide range of features of the peer cultures of young
children. These features are related to two central themes of the peer cultures of
both children and youth: (1) Children and youth make persistent attempts to gain
control of their lives and (2) they always strive to share that control with each other.
I have referred to these themes as control and communal sharing (Corsaro 2011).
These themes are also directly related to a variety of routines in which children and
youth create and share strong emotional bonds with each other that contribute
positively to their well-being.
23.3.1 The Emergence of Peer Culture Among Toddlers
In modern Western societies and in many non-Western societies as well, young

children spend much of their time in the preschool years in childcare institutions,
preschools, and under the care of older siblings and peers. There has been a good bit
of debate regarding the negative effects of childcare on the emotional and social
development of preschool children (particularly infant and toddlers) especially in
the United States. This debate is ironic in that the United States has far less
progressive family leave, childcare, and early childhood education compared to
other Western societies. Thus, especially the children of working class and poor
families must often enter childcare in the first months of life given there is no paid
family leave program in the United States. The United States has, however,
provided a great deal of funding for research on the negative effects of childcare
and early education for preschool children. These negative effects are tied to the
23 Children’s Well-Being and Interpretive Reproduction 711
belief that young children who spend a great deal of time in childcare from a young
age will fail to establish secure attachments with parents, especially their mothers.
Some studies based on what is known as the “strange situation experiment” found
that children who attended infant childcare on a regular basis displaced less secure
attachments than those who did not (Belskey and Rovine 1988). However, these
results were challenged given the nature of the “strange situation experiment” and
the validity of its measures.
In the strange situation experiment, an infant is brought by her mother to
a playroom setting in a laboratory. The mother plays with her child with some
toys for a short period and then leaves her alone with a female researcher. The
infant’s responses to her mother’s brief absence and then her return are seen as
indicators of the child’s attachment to her mother. The attached child is expected
to show anxiety during her mother’s absence and relief upon her return. In fact, in
the original use of this method, reunion behavior best predicted secure attach-
ment in that the children who either ignored, avoided, or resisted their mothers
upon reunion had problems with emotional security later in life (Ainsworth et al.
1978). But such behavior in children who attended childcare or preschool regu-
larly would be quite normal in ignoring their mother’s return and continue
playing with toys given their experience of many separations and reunions
(Clarke-Stewart 1989). Yet research on the possible negative effects of childcare
and early education on children’s emotional development continues with only
modestly significant or mixed findings that such effects may occur (National
Institute of Child Health and Human Development Early Child Care Research
Network 2003). There has been little if any research of this type in most
European countries where many toddlers and almost all 3- to 5-year-olds regu-
larly attend preschools.
In many countries in Europe as well as Japan, China, and Brazil, children spend
a great deal of time in preschool in the toddler period (18 months to 3 years) as well
as from three to five (see Gandini and Edwards 2001 for a discussion of infant/
toddler care in Italy). Recent research on infants and toddlers in such settings shows
that they create and participate in peer cultures in line with the themes and of
control and communal sharing even in these early years. Some of the most inter-
esting research has been carried out in Brazil, Norway, and Italy.
The research in Brazil, guided by a cultural and ethological approach and the
fine-grained analysis video data, has demonstrated that toddlers and babies are
capable of shared interactions and play routines. Many of the studies found that
babies in the first year of life engaged in play routines that went far beyond simple
parallel play. The studies documented that by the end of the 1st year of life, infants
demonstrated both empathy and shared pretend play behaviors (see Rossetti-
Ferreira et al. 2010).
In her research in Norwegian preschools, Løkken (2000) identified a “toddling
style” – play based on expressive intentional bodily actions the toddlers immedi-
ately understand without having to reflect on or talk about it. She provides examples
of making music together (a “glee concert”) and a bathroom society where the
toddlers banged plastic cups, boats, and their hands on a bench in the bathroom.
712 W.A. Corsaro
These playful actions, vocalizations, and smiles produce a vivid sense of commu-
nity, emotional well-being, and control of their space and activities in the preschool.
In Italy, my colleague Luisa Molinari and I documented several routines among
toddlers in a preschool program for 18-month- to 3-year-olds. One example, “The
Little Chairs” routine, captures well the themes of control and communal sharing
discussed earlier. Here, the children flipped over the small chairs they sat in for
meeting times in a way that one can stand rather than sit in them. The children then
lined up the chairs from one end of a playroom to another and walked on them
transforming the meeting time room into a type of physical playground. The
children worked together to build different types of patterns of winding paths and
cautioned each other to be careful in their play. The teachers impressed by the
toddlers’ creativity and care in their play allowed the activity to occur on a regular
basis. We found that the older children often admonished the younger ones for
moving a chair from the line or pushing another child walking in front of them.
Further, the older children experimented with the design over time making the
structure more difficult to walk on (see Corsaro & Molinari 1990; Corsaro 2011).
An important feature of toddler play routines is their simple and primarily
nonverbal participant structure, which consists of a series of orchestrated actions.
As a result, a large number of children with a fairly wide range of communicative,
cognitive, and motor skills can participate. The structure incorporates the option of
recycling the main elements of the routines. Such recycling allows young children
to embellish and extend certain features of the routines over time.
Play routines among toddlers in their peer cultures again capture the emotional
importance of “doing things together” for children’s well-being. Adults often
overlook this importance because they tend to view (especially younger) children’s
activities from a “utility point of view,” which focuses on learning and social and
cognitive development (Strandell 1994). Young children do not know the world
from this point of view. “For them,” noted Strandell, “the course of events of which
they are part has an immediate impact on their existence as children here in space
and now in time” (1994, p. 8). Thus, adults seldom appreciate the emotional
satisfaction and well-being children get from producing and participating in what
seems to most adults to be simple repetitive play.
23.3.2 Sociodramatic Role and Fantasy Play in Preschool

Peer Culture
A similar pattern can be seen in the joy of sociodramatic role-play among 2- to 5-

year-olds which most adults and researchers see as important for learning but
primarily as imitation of adult models. Kids do not, however, simply imitate adult
models in their role-play; rather, they continually elaborate and embellish adult
models to address their own concerns. Children begin role-play as young as age 2,
and most role-play is about the expression of status and power. In role-play
scenarios, children often create discipline scripts in which those in subordinate
roles such as babies, young children, and even pets purposely misbehave so as to be
disciplined by those with more status such as parents or owners. Thus, children
often feel more powerful and in control in their role-play (see Corsaro 2003, 2011).
Given the ubiquity of role-play across historical times and across cultures, it can be
argued this it is a universal aspect of children’s play and peer cultures. The historian
Barbara Hanawalt (1993) reported that children of medieval London engaged in a wide
variety of types of role-play including religious ceremonies and marriages. Lester
Alston (1992) and David Wiggins (1985) in their analysis of interviews with former
slaves found that slave children in the pre-Civil War South of the United States
engaged in a variety of types of role-play that included religious ceremonies such as
baptisms and most especially slave auctions, which helped children deal with strong
emotions about being separated from their families in the slave communities.
There are many examples of children’s role-play reported in anthropological
studies of children throughout the world. Often, such play in developing societies is
combined with children’s work for their families and often closely models adult
work roles. However, again children are creative in using available materials like
pieces of glass, battery tops, tin cans, and old shoes in designing their play in
contrast to the toys designed to encourage role-play among children from devel-
oped societies (see Katz 2004).
Overall, role-play is important for children’s well-being in supporting emotional
satisfaction in sharing play and feeling more in control of their lives. Role-play also
contributes to children’s creativity and social skills and enables children to develop
predispositions to their futures as adults and a variety of aspects of the adult world
both fulfilling and joyful and also serious and sorrowful including even death
(Formanek-Brunell 1992; Corsaro 1993, 2003, 2011; L€ofdahl 2005).
Young children also confront confusions, fears, and conflicts important to their
well-being in fantasy play of different types. Numerous studies document the com-
plexity and wide variety of children’s fantasy play throughout the world. Children’s
fantasy play is emotion laden and helps children cope with a variety of concerns and
fears such as being lost, facing dangers of various sorts, and death (Corsaro 1985,
2003, 2011; Edwards 2000; Fromberg and Bergen 2006; Goldman 2000; G€onc€u and
Gaskins 2006). Sawyer (1997, 2002) captured the poetic nature of American chil-
dren’s fantasy play in their peer culture in what he called “collaborative emergence.”
By collaborative emergence, Sawyer meant that young children’s improvised play is
unpredictable and contingent on the ongoing turn-by-turn production of play narra-
tive. For example, one child “proposes a new development for the play, and other
children respond by modifying or embellishing the proposal” (Sawyer 2002, p. 304).
Again, we see how the communal and creative productions of children in their peer
cultures contribute to feelings of control, accomplishment, and emotional well-being.
Johannesen (2004; also see Corsaro and Johannesen 2007) in her study of
Norwegian children’s play with LEGOs extended Sawyer’s work by entering into
the practice of fantasy play in terms of the practice itself. She did this by considering
the play frame reality as voiced by the LEGO characters as a real world with real
experiences. Given that her work took place over a long period of time, Johannesen
demonstrated that the LEGO characters remain intact even when they, as embodied
in play artifacts, are stacked away from 1 day or week to the next. Over time, the
714 W.A. Corsaro
children’s play reality persists and becomes increasingly varied and complex as the
characters, as orchestrated by the children, plan, carry out, and experience recurring
episodes of danger-rescue and other emotionally laden themes. These recurrent
experiences materialize in the enduring relational identities, artifacts, and participants
in the play. Again, we see the value of taking children’s play seriously and how
children themselves in line with interpretive reproduction contribute continually to
their ongoing membership in the peer and adult culture.
In her work on “doing reality with play” based on observations of Finnish
preschool children, Strandell (1997) made a similar point, noting that play in the
peer culture should not be seen only as a means of reaching adult competence or in
line with the topic at hand (adult notions of well-being). Rather, she argued that play
is a resource kids use in their everyday life activities in the peer culture. Interestingly,
these and other studies of fantasy play illuminate language and improvisational skills
produced and shared among young children that surpass those of the majority of older
children and adults. Thus, fantasy play and its contributions to children’s well- being
are best interpreted and appreciated in the life and the moments of childhood.
23.3.3 Protecting Interactive Space and Approach-Avoidance Play
This insight brings us to other forms of play routines in young children’s peer
culture that are often misinterpreted by adults as harmful or threatening to
children’s well-being when they may often be just the opposite. First, there is
much concern about peer rejection among young children. It is clearly a problem
if a young child is continually rejected by others and has constant problems in
joining in the play routines of peer culture in preschools and other settings. This
problem is even more worthy of concern if it persists into elementary school, and it
has been addressed in the work of Paley (1992) and others (Asher and Coie 1990;
Ramsey 1991). However, adults, including teachers and researchers, often see
rejection and exclusion in the play of preschool where I see the “protection of
interactive space” (Corsaro 1979, 2003, 2011). Protection of interactive space is the
tendency on the part of preschool children to protect their ongoing play from the
intrusion of others. In my research in preschools, I found this tendency is directly
related to the fragility of peer interaction, the multiple possibilities of disruption in
most preschool settings, and children’s desire to maintain control over shared
activities. In short, what may look like negative active and refusing to share play
activities with others on the surface is often just the opposite. It is not that children
are refusing to share, rather than want to keep sharing the play activities they are
already sharing in contexts where disruptions are ubiquitous.
It is for this reason that direct access attempts like “What ya doin?” “Can
I play?” or the frequently heard “You have to share!” are so often rejected. These
types of entry bids actually signal that one does not understand what kind of sharing
is going on and are candidates to mess things up if they enter the play. Catherine
Garvey (1984) nicely captured why these strategies don’t often work in the three
“don’ts” in her guidelines for successful play entry:
Don’t ask questions for information (if you can’t tell what’s going on, you shouldn’t be
bothering those who do); don’t mention yourself or state your feelings about the group or its
activity (they’re not interested at the moment); don’t disagree or criticize the proceedings
(you have not right to do so, since you’re and outsider). (p. 64)
The ‘do’s” in Garvey’s guidelines all revolve around showing that you can play
without causing problems: Watch what’s going on, figure out the play theme, enter
the area, and plug into the action by producing a variant of the play theme. These
strategies are just the ones I identified children using successfully in my research.
Most children who found their entry bids resisted learned to watch at a distance to
figure out what was going on (sometimes, even circling around the area so as not to
cause attention), to subtly enter the play area, and often nonverbally, to produce an
action in line with the play theme. Once accepted, it was also wise to note: “We’re
friends, right?” (Corsaro 1979, 2003, 2011).
Other play routines among preschool and elementary school children that are
often misinterpreted by adults involve running, chasing, and what is often called
“rough and tumble play.” Rough and tumble play “is defined as fun, social-
interactive behavior that includes running, climbing, pouncing, chasing and fleeing,
wrestling, kicking, open-handed slapping, falling and other forms of physical and
verbal play fighting” (Tannock 2010, p. 148; also see Blurton-Jones 1976;
Pellegrini and Smith 1998; Freeman and Brown 2004;). Play routines of this type
begin in the preschool years and peak in primary school and then begins to decline
in early adolescence (Pellegrini and Smith 1998; Tannock 2010). It is often seen as
aggressive play or even bullying and is discouraged by teachers, parents, and other
adults. However, as Tannock (2010) points out in a review of rough and tumble
play, it has many positive aspects involving physical exercise and emotional
expression and intimacy especially among boys.
In my research of the 5-year-old American and Italian children, I identified
a spontaneous play routine I called “approach-avoidance.” Approach-avoidance is
primarily a nonverbal play routine in which children (boys and girls) identify,
approach, and then avoid a threatening agent or monster. The best way to get
a feel for approach-avoidance play is to examine an enactment of the routine.
Like many routines in peer culture, approach-avoidance is hard to appreciate
outside its natural context. Therefore, I present below an example I captured in
field notes from a study of a preschool in Berkeley, California, in the mid-1970s:
The Apple Girl
I am sitting in the sandpile of the outside yard of the school with Glen, Leah, Denny, and
Martin. Rita walks by us and she is wearing a dress with an apple print. Suddenly Glen
yells: “Hey, there’s the apple girl!” Denny then shouts: “Watch out, she will get us.” Rita
hears this but does not look toward us and walks away slowly. Leah than says, “Let’s go get
her.” The four children get up and move toward Rita and I remain in the sandpile. They
move slowly up behind Rita and laugh and act like they are afraid. Rita now slows done and
pretends not to notice them. But then as they get very close to her Rita spins around and
holds up her hands as if they were claws. “Watch out, she will scratch us,” says Martin.
Now the four children run with Rita pursuing them around the yard until they get back to the
sandpile and join me laughing and saying that was scary. Rita stops outside the sandpile and
waves her clawed hands saying “Grr! Grr!” She then turns and walks away from the other
716 W.A. Corsaro
children. As she moves away the four children jump up to approach her again and they
repeat the routine. In fact, it is repeated three more times with lots of laughing and
screeching by the four threatened children and lots of growling by Rita.
This example is typical of the approach-avoidance play that occurred spon-

taneously in the American and Italian preschools I studied. The routine is
composed of three phases: identification, approach, and avoidance. In this
example, the identification phase begins when Glen sees Rita and referring to
her dress calls her the apple girl. Denny then suggests that Rita is in some way
dangerous, and she will come after the children in the sandpile. In this way, Rita
is thrust into the role of a threatening agent. Rita hears this identification and
walks away slowly. Leah then suggests that the other children in the sandpile go
after or approach Rita as the apple girl. As the children approach Rita, they
pretend they are afraid, and Rita purposely does not reply until the children are
very close to her. She then spins around and embraces the role of a threatening
agent as she holds up her hands as if she has claws. The other children now flee
and try to avoid Rita who runs after them until they reach the sandpile which
becomes a home base.
Several things are important here. It is clear that the three children are in this
together. The approach is communally orchestrated, moving from Glen’s identifi-
cation and Leah’s proposal that they approach Rita to the slow advance toward Rita
(“The Apple Girl”) and to the feigned fear in reaction to Rita’s embodiment of the
role of threatening agent. A building tension occurs in the approach phase, which
the children create and share.
The children’s fleeing initiates the avoidance phase. This phase can proceed only
with the threatening agent’s active participation. Rita with her outstretched hands as
claws pursues the other children back to the sandpile. She does not, however, move
into the sandpile, signaling the limits to her power as a threatening agent. The
sandpile thus becomes a home base for the threatened children. Rita then walks
away. The threatening agent power is now diminished and the first cycle of the
routine is complete (see Corsaro 1985, 2011 for other examples of approach-
avoidance).
Before pursuing further discussion of the importance of approach-avoidance in
the peer culture of young children, let’s look at a more formalized version of the
routine Italian preschoolers refer to as la Strega (the witch):
La Strega
Cristina, Luisa, and Rosa (all about four years old) are playing in the outside yard of the
preschool. Rosa points to Cristina and says, “She is the witch.” Luisa then asks Cristina,
“Will you be the witch?” and Cristina agrees. Cristina now closes her eyes and Luisa and
Rosa move closer and closer towards her, almost touching her. As they approach, Cristina
repeats: “Colore! Colore! Colore!” (“Color! Color! Color!”). Luisa and Rosa move closer
with each repetition and then Cristina shouts: “Viola!” (“Violet!”). Luisa and Rosa run off
screeching, and Cristina, with her arms and hands outstretched in a threatening manner,
chases after them. Luisa and Rosa now run in different directions, and Cristina chases after
Rosa. Just as la Strega is about to catch her, Rosa touches a violet object (a toy on the
ground that serves as home base). Cristina now turns to look for Luisa and sees that she also
has found a violet object (the dress of another child). Cristina now again closes her eyes and
repeats: “Colore! Colore! Colore!” The other two girls begin a second approach and the
routine is repeated, this time with “gray” as the announced color. Rosa and Luisa again find
the correctly colored objects before Cristina can capture them. At this point, Cristina
suggests that Rosa be the witch and she agrees. The routine is repeated three more times
with the colors yellow, green, and blue. Each time the witch chases but does not capture the
fleeing children.
The la Strega routine highlights some additional implications of approach-

avoidance play for children’s peer culture. First, it allows for the personification
of the feared (but fascinating) figure la Strega in the person of a fellow playmate.
The fact that la Strega is now embodied in the actions of a living person is tempered
by the fact that the animator is, after all, just Cristina (another child). The feared
figure is now part of immediate reality, but this personification is both created and
controlled by the children in their joint production of the routine.
A second thing to note is that the participant structure of the routine leads to both
a buildup and a release of tension and excitement. In the approach phase, the witch
relinquishes power by closing her eyes as the children draw near to her. The tension
builds, however, as the witch repeats the word “colore,” because she decides what
the color will be and when it will be announced. This announcement signals the
beginning of the witch’s attempt to capture the children and the avoidance phase of
the routine. Although the fleeing children may seem to be afraid in the avoidance
phase, the fear is clearly feigned because objects of any color can easily be found
and touched. Thus, the witch seldom actually captures a fleeing child. In fact,
threatened children often prolong the avoidance phase by overlooking many poten-
tial objects of the appropriate color before selecting one.
We see in the American and Italian examples that the threatened children have
a great deal of control. They initiate and recycle the routine through their approach,
and they have a reliable means of escape (home base) in the avoidance phase. These
cross-cultural data nicely demonstrate how children cope with real fears by incor-
porating them into peer routines that they produce and control. In fact, approach-
avoidance play, like dramatic role-play, may be a universal feature of children’s
peer culture (see Schwartzman 1978; Barlow 1985; Corsaro 2003, 2011; for review
and discussion of other cross-cultural examples of approach-avoidance play).
Although approach-avoidance, rough and tumble play, and other run and chase
play may seem aggressive and negative to many adults, they must be evaluated
from children’s points of view within their peer culture. These types of play
especially given their physical elements, sharing of emotions, and confronting of
possible fears embodied in threatening agents clearly contribute to the social and
emotional well-being of young children.
23.4 Well-Being of Preadolescent Children
As discussed in the previous section, preschoolers enjoy simply being and doing
things together. However, generating shared meaning and coordinating play are
often challenging tasks for preschoolers. Thus, they spend a lot of time creating and
718 W.A. Corsaro
protecting shared play routines that provide them with a sense of excitement,
emotional security, and well-being.
Things are different for preadolescents. They easily generate and sustain peer
activities, but they now often collectively produce a set of stratified groups, and
issues of acceptance, popularity, and group solidarity become very important. I will
explore the importance and complexity of this increasing differentiation in peer
relations and culture for well-being by examining friendship processes, verbal
routines, games, and heterosexual relations; the nature and structure of differenti-
ated groups; and patterns of differentiation in terms of gender and status. I will also
briefly address the role of electronic media in preadolescent peer cultures and its
effects on children’s well-being. I should note that my review is primarily restricted
to Western societies. Preadolescents in non-Western societies spend much of their
lives in mixed-age groups caring for, playing, and often working with younger
siblings and other younger children in their local communities (see Roopnarine
et al. 1994; Katz 2004; Nsamenang 2006, 2010).
23.4.1 Friendship Processes
In preadolescence, children engage in games and other types of play that involve
planning and reflective evaluation. It is for this reason that Chin and Phillips (2003)
argued that in the study of preadolescents’ play, we need to identify the intensity of
children’s involvement in their activities and not just identify their various activ-
ities. Preadolescents, argue Chin and Phillips, don’t just play; they are collectively
involved in their activities, from being absorbed in watching television soap operas
to the extent of knowing their complex plot structures, to being engaged in complex
sociodramatic play, and to exploring novel interactive settings with peers and
adults. Chin and Phillips studied preadolescents in home and neighborhood settings
in the summer months. These settings challenge children’s imaginative and
interactive skills because they are often not as structured as those in schools or
after-school programs. Chin and Phillips present vivid examples of the play of two
girls who see themselves as best friends. The girls (Jane and April) often pretended
that they were sisters and that the scooters they liked to ride were horses. They
talked to the researchers about a play scenario when they pursue husbands on their
horses (scooters) but make sure the play does not violate the rules of the church they
attend:
Jane said, “yesterday we were playing that she [April] was dating the sheriff and I was
dating the sheriff’s brother.” . . .They started discussing dating the sheriff and whether or
not they should play the game today. They decided to and then debated how old they should
pretend to be [they had already chosen to be 13 and 17 for their previous game]. Jane said,
“Well you can’t, if you’re 13—you can’t date one person until you’re 18. It’s against church
standards.” April sighed but nodded and they decided to be 18 and 19. (Chin and Phillips
2003, p. 165)
This example captures many of the complex social and emotional aspects of play
among best friends and how it relates to their presents and futures. In creating and
sharing the complex role-play, the girls share the fun of the play, its connections to
things they value and share, and how its improvised plot direction causes some
challenges to their religious experiences. The intensity of such shared play over
time clearly marks how children contribute to their own well-being and concerns in
best friend relationships.
Other researchers have explored the intensity of best friend relationships
among preadolescents in school, after-school programs, and neighborhood set-
tings. Rizzo (1989) found that developing best friends was a key aspect of peer
culture among the first graders he studied. In Rizzo’s study, the most enduring
friendships were the result of “local circumstances of play” and peer relations.
The first graders became involved in types of play they enjoyed, and like the
preschoolers I discussed earlier, they verbally marked and agreed they were
friends. Unlike younger children, however, they maintained these patterns of
shared play over time and marked their relationships as special – by considering
themselves to be best friends.
Rizzo found that best friends often tried to protect their friendships from the
possible intrusions of others while at the same time, trying to expand their friend-
ship groups by forming clubs. These two processes often came into conflict in
a variety of ways. First, even though best friends wanted to expand their groups
beyond their two-person dyads, they were very sensitive to the possible disruption
of the still fragile, dyadic best-friend relationships. As a result, they often displayed
insecurity and jealousy when their best friends played with others without them,
and they quarreled with their best friends about the general nature of the play with
others. Rizzo and others see these disputes and conflicts as serving many positive
functions related to well-being.
23.4.2 Conflict in Preadolescent Peer Relations
Research on peer conflict among elementary school children shows how disputes
are a basic means for constructing social order, testing and maintaining friendships,
and developing and displaying social identity (see Davies 1982; Katriel 1985;
Maynard 1985; Goodwin 1990, 1998; Thompson et al. 2001).
Goodwin’s (1990) work is especially interesting for capturing how the complex-
ity of conflict in preadolescents’ peer relations and how it varies by race and social
class. For example, she found that African-American children she studied orga-
nized their talk to build and highlight opposition. Boys engaged in arguments and
ritual insults as a way of dramatizing their play and to construct and display
character. Conflict and disputes seldom reached clear resolution, as disagreements
between individual children often expanded into group debates. Conflict was
enjoyed, even relished, and the children actually cooperated to embellish and
extend rounds of arguments and insults. Furthermore, the children never
complained to adults about peer teasing and insults, rarely excluded peers from
play, and did not produce rigid status hierarchies.
720 W.A. Corsaro
Goodwin’s findings among African-American girls were in some ways similar to

that of the boys she studied but also differed in some important ways. Unlike boys,
in their direct competitive disputes, girls frequently engaged in gossip disputes
during which absent parties were evaluated. The airing of such grievances
frequently culminated into he-said-she-said confrontations. This type of confronta-
tion was defined by Goodwin as a type of gossip routine that is brought about when
one party to a dispute gossips about the other in his or her absence. The confron-
tation comes about when the absent party challenges his or her antagonist at a later
time. Consider the following example: “In the midst of play, Annette confronts
Benita saying: ‘And Arthur said that you said that I was showing off just because
I had that blouse on” (Goodwin 1990, p. 195).
Annette is speaking to Benita in the present about what Arthur told her in the
recent past about what Benita said about Annette in the more remote past. This
complex temporal structure is crucial in he-said-she-said exchanges because the
accusation locates the statement made by the defendant about the speaker as having
been made in the speaker’s absence. Such talking behind one’s back is considered
a serious offense in the peer culture. However, importantly, the dramatic interaction
within the group regarding such he-said-she-said exchanges also often solidifies the
group of girls. As Goodwin argues in such confrontations, the girls order a field of
events, negotiate identities, and construct social order. Here, again we see the
importance of collective peer activities in line with interpretive reproduction in
children’s production and participation in peer culture. We also see the importance
of studying children’s peer culture and well-being across racial and ethnic groups.
Although such disputes may often be interpreted as aggressive and combative by
White middle-class adults, Goodwin shows the disputes and gossip routines are just
the opposite when studied in context and from the children’s point of view. As we
will see later, studies of disputes, teasing, and aggression among White preadoles-
cents in stratified peer groups are often clearly meant to be aggressive and often
involve bullying and intimidation. However, before turning to such work involving
gender and status differentiation in studies of peer relations among adolescents,
I first want to consider verbal routines, games, and cooperative play in same sex and
cross-sex peer interaction.
23.4.3 Verbal Routines, Games, and Heterosexual Relations Among

Preadolescents
Preadolescents often engage in play routines that involve communal sharing. With
increased language and cognitive skills compared to preschoolers, preadolescents
have more control over when and how such routines might occur. Thus, in addition
to more loosely structured play routines, preadolescents often participate in formal
games both spontaneously and in organized settings. Children of this age also talk
about their play and games in a reflective way, and they can appreciate the subtle
and symbolic aspects of play routines both during and after their production.
Finally, preadolescents often address concerns about appearance, self-presentation,
and heterosexual relations within play routines and games. In this sense, they use
the pretend frame of play and games as a secure base for addressing sensitive and
potentially embarrassing concerns, desires, and ambiguities.
Preadolescent children often mark allegiance to friendship bonds through par-
ticipation in sharing routines. The very nature of participation in such routines often
impels preadolescents to think about their relationship to one another, their devel-
oping self-concepts and identities, and their place as individuals in the peer group
and larger society.
Consider the Israeli sharing routine xibùdim, documented by Tamar Katriel
(1987). The routine usually occurred on the way home from school and had
a definite participant structure: (a) the opening or announcement of an intention
to buy a treat by a particular child; (b) the acknowledgement by accompanying
friends, usually involving the exclamation Bexibùdim! Bexibùdim! produced in
a melodious chant; (c) the purchase of the treat by the proposer; (d) the offering
and sharing of the treat, with each friend taking a small bite; and (e) the optional
recycling of a second round of sharing. The routine involves delicate negotiation in
that, as Katriel has noted, the bite size has to be regulated so that everybody gets
a share and about half the treat is left for the owner. Typically, the owner asks for
pity before the bite that will leave her or him with half the treat. A key element of
the routine is the concept of individual’s respect for others in her or his own group
of friends; xibùdim is derived from the verb lexabed, whose literal meaning is “to
respect.” In an interview, an 11-year-old girl explained her insistence on getting
a bite of her friend’s treat in this way: “It’s not that I will die if I don’t get a bite of
the popsicle, that I will die a day earlier or something, but it is simply. . .respect, as
the word says” (Katriel 1987, p. 307).
This statement, along with the main features of the routine, supports Katriel’s
insightful interpretation of the routine as a “symbolic sacrifice in which one’s self-
interest and primordial greed are controlled and subordinated to an idea of sociality
shaped by particular cultural values, such as equality and generalized reciprocity”
(p. 318). Finally, on a more concrete level, sharing routines such as xibùdim are fun.
Their production “serves to reassert the very existence of children’s peer group
culture” as a “celebration of childhood” (p. 318).
Routines of this type are especially interesting in regard to children’s own
collective contribution to their well-being because they simultaneously assert
individual rights and creativity and collective solidarity. Many other activities in
preadolescents’ peer cultures possess this characteristic, especially those related to
verbal games and humor. For example, preadolescents produce and embellish
a wide range of children’s lore – games, jokes, chants, rhymes, riddles, songs,
and other verbal routines that are created and transmitted by children over time and
across societies (see Corsaro 2011 for a discussion of humor and jokes). Such lore
has been well documented by child folklorists (Opie and Opie 1959, 1969;
McDowell 1979; Tucker 2008).
These activities are rich with laughter, which serves as a communicative marker.
It both signals that the activity at hand is not serious and “also signifies support;
others with you” (Frønes 1995, p. 223).
722 W.A. Corsaro
Preadolescent children play a variety of games in a wide range of informal and

formal settings. Although a great deal of work has documented such games and how
children’s participation influences their individual cognitive, emotional, and social
development, studies of children actually playing games are rare. Such studies are
important because they capture how children’s intensive involvement in playing,
sharing feelings and emotions, embellishing, and using games to explore their
identities and relationships contributes to their well-being.
One example is Fine’s (1987) study of Little League baseball teams. Fine
found that during a Little League season, the boys do much more than learn and
practice baseball skills. Interwoven within the culture of baseball is a local peer
culture in which the boys develop a strong sense of male bonding and address
concerns about identity and their perceptions and relations with girls. The boys
also use the activities of baseball practice and games as backdrops for produc-
ing, sharing, and acquiring the language, jokes, and lore of preadolescent
cultures.
Perhaps some of the best work on children’s games as situated activities is that of
Goodwin (1985, 1990, 1998, 2006) and Evaldsson (1993, 2003). By situated
activities, these researchers mean games that are produced in real settings with
real children who often have long interactional histories. Earlier, I discussed the
importance of studying preschoolers play over long periods of time and in the
course of its production for appreciating its complexity and understanding its
meaning from the children’s point of view. Studying games as situated activity
captures these same elements. Research that is based on verbal reports of children’s
participation in games or that relies on analysis of the form and structure of games
abstracted from the adult performances misses this situated aspect. It does tell us
about how children spend their time and about the developmental implications of
playing games with various physical, cognitive, language, and emotional demands.
But to really capture the rich social world of children’s lives and peer cultures,
researchers need to enter their play and be willing to get their pants dirty and shoes
muddy.
This is just what Goodwin and Evaldsson have done. Goodwin (1985, 1998,
2006) has studied the play and games of African-American, Latino, and White
middle-class preadolescents in the United States for many years. She has
observed, audiovisually recorded, and analyzed children participating in a wide
range of games including jump rope and hopscotch in their neighborhoods,
playgrounds, and schools. Let’s first consider her comparative studies of hop-
scotch. Hopscotch is a game played mainly by girls around the world. On the
surface, it seems to be a simple turn-taking game which demands a fair amount of
physical coordination. One child jumps at a time through a grid of squares usually
numbered from one to nine. The main goal is to be the first player to advance
a token (rock or beanbag) from the lowest to the highest square and back again. To
initiate the game, a player tosses her token from below square one into a square
and, while standing on one leg, jumps from one end of the grid and back again on
one foot, avoiding squares where other tokens have been tossed. Where there are
two unoccupied squares next to each other, the jumper’s feet should land in the
two adjacent squares. If a player falls, steps on a line, or steps outside the correct
square, she loses her turn.
When playing hopscotch, the African-American and Latina girls that Goodwin
studied, the nonjumpers intensely scrutinized the body movements of jumpers and
quickly called out infractions and enforced the rules. Consider the following
example:
Lucinda takes her turn, jumping twice in square two and possibly putting her foot on the
line of square one. Joy sees the violation and yells, “You out.” Lucinda shakes her head no,
“No, I’m not!” You hit the line,” counters Joy. Now Crystal comes over in support of Joy
and says, “Yes, you did. You hit the line. You hit the line,” as she point to the line. Lucinda
leans toward Crystal. “I ain’t hit no line!” “Yes, you did,” shouts Alisha, who has now come
over to the group. Crystal supports Alisha, smiling and shaking her head as she point to the
spot of the violation, “You did. You s—.““No, I didn’t,” interrupts Lucinda. “Yes, you did,”
counters Alisha again. “Didn’t she go like this?” Crystal asks the others. And then looking
at Lucinda she says, “You did like this,” as she steps on the line in and imitation of
Lucinda’s jump. “You did like that.” Joy now walks up to the grid and rubs her foot across
the line, “Yeah, you hit that line.” Then she taps the line twice with her foot and says,
“Right, there, honey!” Finally, another nonjumper, Vanessa, comes over and says to
Lucinda, “You out now!” (Adapted from Goodwin 1998, pp. 35–36)
In this example, the girls negotiate and enforce the rules with a great deal of
teasing and dramatic flair. In fact, Goodwin found that in many cases the stylized
disputes over misses or what were often labeled “attempts to cheat” became more
important than the actual play of hopscotch. Rather than simply following the rules
or ignoring them, the girls work and play with them, often purposely highlighting
opposition (Goodwin 1998, p. 38).
Things were very different in the hopscotch play of the middle-class White girls
Goodwin studied. Instead of closely observing and evaluating the play, the children paid
less attention to infractions and mitigated their responses to them. Consider this example:
Linsey, Liz, Kendrick, and Cathleen are playing. Linsey throws her stone and hits a line.
She then begins jumping. “Oh! Good job, Linsey! You got it all the way on the 7,” says Liz.
Kendrick clearly sees that Linsey has hit the line with her foot. She shakes her head,
“that’s—I think that’s sort of on the line though.” “Uh,” says Liz to Linsey, “your foot’s in
the wrong spot.” “Sorry,” says Kendrick, “that was a good try.” Later Linsey is jumping
again and she makes it through several squares. “You did it!” shouts Cathleen. “Yes!” says
Linsey. She then hits a line as she nears the end of her turn. “Whoa,” says Cathleen softly.
Kendrick then laughing a bit says encouragingly, “You accidently jumped on that. But
that’s okay.” (Adapted from Goodwin 1998, p. 37)
From a White middle-class perspective, it would seem that the girls in the second
example are nice and supportive of each other’s well-being and that the African-
American girls in the first example are overly competitive and even mean. In fact,
some feminist scholars see the mitigated nature of children’s speech as demon-
strated by the White middle-class girls as positive, arguing that it demonstrates
concern for affiliation and promotes relational solidarity (Gilligan 1982; Barnes and
Vangelisti 1995). However, solidarity and well-being are not always easily defined
and depend on the shared values of particular racial and ethnic groups as well as
social and cultural context. Goodwin notes that group solidarity can be achieved in
724 W.A. Corsaro
a variety of ways. Furthermore, she turns the White middle-class feminist perspec-
tive somewhat on its head by arguing that “lack of accountability for one’s action”
in the mitigated language style can be seen as limiting. She maintains that inter-
personal conflict is often the heart of social life. In fact, conflicts seldom disrupted
play in her data; rather, they added spice and flair. In this view, conflict and
cooperation are not opposites but overlapping processes that are embedded in the
larger ethos of playfulness. Disputes, teasing, and conflict can add a creative tension
that increases its enjoyment (Goodwin 1998; also see Corsaro 1994).
Goodwin’s work raises important issues for well-being in line with interpretive
reproduction. It shows the importance of the innovative nature of children’s peer
cultures and that the nature of play and games in peer culture is a reflection to some
degree of variation in cultural values and interpersonal styles. We see that
well-being among children in their everyday lives is best considered and evaluated
from a multicultural perspective grounded in long-term observations of children’s
activities in their everyday lives and peer cultures.
Now let’s turn to the work of Evaldsson on preadolescent games which proceeds
from the same methodological approach of Goodwin but in Swedish after-school
programs. Evaldsson (1993) studied two different programs for 6- to 10-year-old
children over an 8-month period. She found that the children repeated games day
after day. The children in the panda center preferred to play and trade marbles,
while the children at the bumblebee center often engaged in jump rope. Marbles is
a highly complex game. Piaget (1932) analyzed in some depth the game’s contri-
butions to children’s negotiation strategies and their moral development.
Evaldsson, on the other hand, focused on how children relied on repeated perfor-
mances of the game to create a locally shared peer culture and to display and
evaluate selves and identities in that culture.
Marbles involves skills in playing the game – that is, aiming and shooting
marbles at a hole or at another player’s marbles, quickly anticipating the flow of
play, and shouting various restrictions regarding shooting. Evaluating the value of
marbles from a competition and trading standpoint is also important. Although the
children in the study played marbles in dyads, there was always an audience of
nonplayers who observed and often participated in arranging matches, evaluating
the play, and negotiating marble trading. Evaldsson found that boys primarily
played the games, with girls more actively involved in evaluating the play and
trading.
The games and trades had natural histories in that they occurred over the school
term, and during this period of time, the children came to assess each other in terms
of these various skills. In her documentation of the history of marble play as
a complex series of situated activities, Evaldsson found that the children’s selves
were intimately related to status, which was linked to the possession and negotiated
value of marbles as things. In other words, as the children increased and decreased
their status in relation to their possession of the valued objects, they used talk to
negotiate the value of the objects (Evaldsson 1993, p. 133). The whole process was
made even more complex by shifting alliances of children in judgments and
negotiations during both the playing and trading of marbles. Thus, we see the
children’s developing notions of identity or self as embedded in the collectively

produced peer culture.
Jump rope, like marbles, is rule governed, and participants are expected to have
a particular orientation to one another during play (Goodwin 1985; Evaldsson
1993). Although there is a good bit of variation, the general pattern in jump rope
is for two children to hold opposite ends of a rope, and turn it for a third child who
jumps when the rope hits the ground. The child who jumps is normally entitled to
continue until she misses. After a miss, the jumper exchanges places with one of the
turners, who now has the opportunity to jump. Legitimate misses are the fault of the
jumper and not the turner. Therefore, misses are sometimes negotiated to assign
fault, and these negotiations can become very complex. Jump rope is competitive
because successful jumpers earn high status and often obtain the valued position of
“first jumper” in initial rounds of play. However, a most interesting fact of jump
rope is that children must cooperate to compete. There is a built-in motivation to
turn the rope fairly for jumpers because if one turns too fast or not in synchrony with
the beat, there is a chance that, when the jumper next becomes a turner, she or he
will do the same for the previous offender (Evaldsson 1993).
Evaldsson found that in the bumblebee after-school center, both boys and girls
engaged in jump rope activities on a regular basis. The most frequent game was
“Cradle of Love” which had the following participant structure: A jumper jumps as
turners and members of an audience call out the letters of the alphabet. If the jumper
misses on a particular letter, others call out the name of another child or of some
media character, who then becomes the potential (or pretend) love interest of the
jumper. For example, if Amy misses at the letter “P,” someone may call out “Paul!”
Then Amy jumps to the rhyme, “Paul do you love me. Tell me truly aye or nay.”
Then the speed of turning is increased and the rhyme continues: “Yes-No Yes-No
Yes-No,” with the romantic link confirmed or denied according to when a miss
occurs. If a jumper succeeds in moving through the entire alphabet, she can propose
the name of the love interest without the constraint of the initial letter. In this case,
however, other children quickly offer up potential names for the jumper to evaluate.
We can see that repetitions of this game among boys and girls who spend a lot of
time together take on characteristics that have as much to do with their developing
relationships toward the opposite sex as they do with their competitive skill in
jumping. Let’s look at a more extended example from Evaldsson’s work:
Cradle of Love
Sara has just successfully jumped through the alphabet. She gets to pick a name, and two
children suggest Dag (“Dan” in Swedish), who is one of the most popular boys with girls in
first grade. Sara seems a bit embarrassed and quietly says no. Then the children suggest
comic book characters like Batman and Superman, and Sara responds “no” to all these
suggestions. The children then return to offering names of children in the group.
Ania: Leif?
Sara: No.
Paul: Paul?
Fred: Someone in your class?
Paul: Axel?
Ania: Paul?
726 W.A. Corsaro
Fred: Paul?
Sara: Nope.
Axel: Per-Ola?
Paul: We’ve already had Per-Ola.
Sara: Dag (very quietly). I’ll take Dag then. Yes, Dag then.
Mona: Dag in our class?
Sara: Nope.
Ania: Dag sitting over there in the green cap?
Paul: Is that him?
Sara: Tuuurn!
Paul: Him (pointing).
Fred: Wowww! Wooowie!
All: Dag Do You Love Me
Tell Me Truly Aye or Nay (turning faster now)
Yes-No Yes-No Yes-No Yes-No (turning stops)
Yeeeessss!
Flera: Yeesss ho ho ho (laughing)
Fred: Dag! (Calling to Dag)
Flera: Ha ha ho ho ho ho (laughing)
Rick: Dag, well that doesn’t necessarily mean Dag.
Fred: But she said Dag.
Ania: Congrats, Dag!
(Adapted from Evaldsson 1993, pp. 117–119)
Evaldsson suggests that Sara was probably too shy to reveal her true preference
for Dag when the name was first suggested. Also, because there was more than one
Dag in the group, the matter was somewhat ambiguous. However, Sara clears up the
ambiguity later and takes the game seriously when she chooses the boy she is fond
of in real life. Now this ordinary, everyday game of jump rope is intensified or
transformed as the “pretend” versus “real” frame is blurred. This transformation is
nicely signaled with the children’s laughing, shouts of “Wooowie” and the teasing
of Dag and Sara. In this way, in the midst of the jump rope game, love becomes
a public topic that can engage nearly all the children at that center. Sara takes
a chance by addressing her real concerns, feelings, and uncertainties about boys, but
she is “protected” by the safety of the play frame, which in this case she dares to
stretch. Here, again we have an excellent example of how children’s well-being
develops and is maintained through interpretive reproduction in the everyday
games of their peer cultures.
23.4.4 Stratification by Gender and Status in Preadolescent

Peer Culture
Many studies have documented increasing gender differentiation in children’s

peer interactions beginning at around 5 or 6 years of age and reaching a peak in
the early elementary school years (Thorne 1993; Adler and Adler 1998; Maccoby
1999). Although there is a great deal of gender segregation in early and preado-
lescence, it is rarely complete. Most studies show consistent mixed-sex grouping
and cross-sex interaction, usually of 10–20 % (Thorne 1993). What is important
for our discussion of children’s peer cultures and their well-being is not simply
the gender segregation that surely occurs in the preadolescent period but the
nature of interactive patterns and interpersonal processes within and between
segregated groups.
Although girls and boys are often apart in preadolescence, they do work and play
together with little obvious attention paid to gender in certain situations. For
example, a number of researchers have found that children often play in mixed-
gender groups in neighborhoods, most especially if the playgroups are also mixed in
age (Ellis et al. 1981; Whiting and Edwards 1988; Thorne 1993). Others have found
consistent cross-gender interaction in schools, but it occurs primarily in settings that
are not controlled by peer groups such as in classrooms and in extracurricular
activities (Thorne 1993). However, it is in peer-dominated and highly public
settings in schools – like cafeterias and playgrounds – that gender separation is
most complete. In fact, many activities and routines of preadolescent children’s
peer cultures in these settings seem to be all about gender. In these activities and
routines, girls and boys try to make sense of and deal with ambiguities and concerns
related to gender differences and relations – key aspects of children’s social and
emotional well-being in this age period. Many of these activities involve conflict,
disputes, and teasing. Thorne (1993) has captured the complexity of such activities
with her discussion and analysis of borderwork.
Borderwork refers to activities that mark and strengthen boundaries between
groups. When gender boundaries are activated, “other social definitions get
squeezed out by heightened awareness of gender as a dichotomy and of ‘the girls’
and ‘the boys’ as opposite and even antagonistic sides” (Thorne 1993, p. 66). In her
work in elementary schools, Thorne identified several types of borderwork. The
first type is contests between groups of girls and boys. Among the groups Thorne
studied, contests were initiated by both children and teachers. Sometimes teachers
pitted boys and girls against each other in math and spelling competitions. On one
occasion, a teacher named the two teams “Beastly Boys” and “Gossipy Girls,”
thereby supporting such contests and gender stereotypes (Thorne 1993, p. 67). Boys
and girls would at times play cooperatively in sports games on the playground, but
these games were often transformed into competitive boy-girl competitions full of
taunts, teasing, and insults usually aimed at the girls.
Another type of borderwork, chasing, is also competitive, but this activity is
more symbolic in its affirmation of boundaries between girls and boys. Cross-
gender chasing is very similar in structure to the approach-avoidance routines of
preschool children I discussed earlier. Among preadolescents, chasing routines
usually begin when a child from one gender group taunts members of the other
group. These taunts lead to chases that are often accompanied by threats that are
seldom carried out. For example, boys may taunt and tease girls, leading the girls to
run after the boys and threaten to catch and kiss them. These routines are generally
referred to as “chase-and-kiss,” “kiss-chase,” and “kissers and chasers” (Richert
1990; Thorne 1993). In her work, Thorne found that the chases had a long history,
with children talking about them for days afterward with friends and even parents
(1993, p. 69). Children talk about cross-gender chases because this type of
728 W.A. Corsaro
borderwork gives rise to lots of tension. Children are experimenting with their
growing concerns and desires regarding the opposite sex. In fact, like approach-
avoidance play among preschoolers, chasing routines include the children’s mark-
ing and acceptance of safety or free zones where children find relief from mounting
tensions of the chase. Among the preadolescents, however, safety zones are more
than geographical spaces to which children flee to escape threatening agents. For
preadolescents, the areas serve as both physical and psychological havens where the
children reflect on and talk about the meaning of their experiences. In this way, the
preadolescents have more direct control over the meaning of the play and collec-
tively create shared histories of the events.
Thorne found that episodes of chasing sometimes become entwined with rituals of
pollution in playground activities. Rituals of pollution are play routines or rituals in
which specific individuals or groups are treated as contaminated (as in “having
cooties”). Pollution games have been observed in many parts of the world (Opie
and Opie 1969). Thorne found that variants of “cootie games” were very much a part
of cross-gender conflict and teasing in that while “girls and boys may transfer cooties
to one another, and girls may give cooties to girls, boys do not generally give cooties
to boys” (1993, p. 74). Thus, girls are central to pollution games that contribute to
boys’ power and control over them. In fact, boys sometimes treat objects associated
with girls as polluting and threatening to their status in all-boy groups.
Like pollution games, the final type of borderwork, invasions, has much to do
with power and dominance of boys over girls. Thorne found a pattern, which has
been observed repeatedly in similar studies of preadolescent children’s activities on
playgrounds. The boys in Thorne’s study would, individually or in groups, delib-
erately disrupt the activities of groups of girls (Thorne 1993, p. 76; also see Grant
1984; Voss 1997). Boys ran under girls’ jump ropes, kicked their markers from
hopscotch grids, and taunted and teased the girls in attempts to disrupt their play.
Although boys much more frequently invaded girls’ space, there were some
interesting exceptions to this pattern. First, while some boys specialized in disrup-
tive behavior, the majority of the boys were not drawn to the activity. Thorne
suggests that the frequent disrupters may have acted like bullies in their behaviors
with peers more generally. Second, Thorne described a small number of fifth- and
sixth-grade girls who organized themselves into what she called “troupes” and
roamed the playground in search of action. These girls would often chase boys. The
leaders of these troupes were often tall, well-developed girls who somewhat
intimidated the boys.
These exceptions are important because they draw our attention to the complex-
ity of interpreting the importance of borderwork. Borderwork, like the jump rope
activities among the Swedish preadolescents in Evaldsson’s study, is play, but in
the play, children address issues that are of serious concern. In this way, the key
feature of these types of play is ambiguity and tension. However, tension is what
makes the activities so appealing to children. In fact, this very tension and
ambiguity lead Kelle (2000) to challenge Thorne’s assumption that heterosexual
desire or interest is a precondition for borderwork. Kelle, on the other hand, found
in her study of German preadolescents that information about heterosexual desire
and interest was collectively produced in the gender games themselves. Thus,
concerns about sexuality are a product not a precondition for borderwork.
Before leaving the topic of gender segregation and cross-gender interaction in
preadolescence, it is useful to return to the work of Goodwin. In her recent book,
The Hidden Life of Girls, Goodwin (2006) further explores exceptions to the notion
of separate gender cultures with boys being more aggressive and direct and girls
more supportive and cooperative.
In this study, Goodwin explored peer relations in a racially and ethnically mixed
Southern California primary school. She found that girls that she studied in the
school arranged themselves in cliques that were composed of asymmetrical rela-
tions on the playground. In maintaining these relations, the girls made use of bald
imperatives, accusatory statements invoking age and gender, and pejorative
descriptions, and they “generally demonstrated their ability to artfully collaborate
to present a position and debate it through clever, appropriate, and forceful come-
backs” (2006, p. 119). These findings fly in the face of girls as cooperative and
supportive in their peer relations. Goodwin also found that the clique of girls she
studied challenged the right of boys to control an area of the playground (the soccer
field) and negotiated sharing the space with the boys and playground aides who at
first resisted such a situation.
Goodwin also added to her earlier work on jump rope (Goodwin 1985). In this
latest work, she again demonstrated the complexity of the game, that both boys and
girls played, and that girls were better performers and controlled boys’ participation
in cross-gender play. She also found that the girls in the fifth- and sixth-grade clique
she studies competed for status through storytelling, verbal assessments of one
another, and bragging. Assessments and types of bragging were as direct and
competitive as what has been found in boys’ groups but in some ways, were more
complex as girls who tried to place themselves too far above the group were open to
sanction.
Like Goodwin, Adler and Adler (1998) found a strong status hierarchy of cliques
in their study of children’s peer relations in and out of school in a primarily middle-
and upper-middle-class community of about 90,000 people. They discuss how the
nature of different activities contributes to popularity within the peer cultures of
the preadolescent boys and girls. They defined popular children as those who are the
most influential in setting group opinions and who have the greatest impact on
determining the boundaries of membership in the most exclusive social groups.
They found that boys’ and girls’ popularity or rank in the status hierarchy was
influenced by several factors. Boys’ popularity revolved around athletic ability,
a cult of masculinity or being tough, sophistication in social and interpersonal skills,
a culture of coolness or detachment, and, in later preadolescence, success in their
relations with girls. Girls’ popularity centered around family background, physical
appearance, social skills, precocity or adult-like concerns and style, and good
academic performance.
Adler and Adler also identified a rigid clique structure in each age and gender
group they studied, with four main strata: the high, wannabe, middle, and low ranks
(social isolates). Adler and Adler found the kids in the highest strata to be extremely
730 W.A. Corsaro
manipulative and controlling in their relations with peers. The leaders of these
popular cliques maintained their power and control by manipulating dynamics of
membership inclusion, stigmatizing those in lower groups and reminding subordi-
nates of their tenuous group membership. Through practices of inclusion and
exclusion, the popular cliques held group members, and those wanting to join the
group (the wannabes), to stringent and often capricious norms of behavior.
Things were quite different in middle-level friendship groups. These groups had
lower prestige, but they also had more secure friendships without the manipulations
that characterized the popular groups. Also, the middle groups made up a larger
percentage of the school, so the manipulative behavior of the popular kids was not
the norm. Still, the popular kids were more visible and had more power in the
school and also received more attention from the Adlers in their documentation of
peer power.
Popular boys were just as controlling and manipulative as girls within their
groups and even more likely to make fun of and tease kids in lower groups,
especially the social isolates. The Adlers’ identification of mean girls is somewhat
surprising, but not unique given recent studies (see Simmons 2002; Wiseman
2002). Girls’ aggression, although often indirect, is often very hurtful to peers
and more prevalent than once thought.
Although the formation of status hierarchies and cliques in elementary school
(and even more in middle school, see Eder 1995) is clearly challenging to children’s
emotional well-being, it is important to focus on positive as well as negative aspects
of status differentiation as described in the research literature. As I noted above, the
Adlers identified the strong positive social relations among what they termed “the
middle circle of friends” in their study; they provided much less information on
how these preadolescents contributed positively to the social and emotional well-
being of their peers. Their everyday activities were glossed over to give more space
in the analysis to the more negative characteristics of the popular clique. This
choice is in line with a tendency in research on children and youth to focus on the
negative and overlook the more positive aspects of children’s activities in their peer
cultures. This tendency is also apparent in the research on children in the media.
23.4.5 The Electronic Media and the Well-Being of Preadolescents
A recent report by the Kaiser Family Foundation (Rideout et al. 2010) examined
media in the lives of a nationally representative sample of third-through twelfth-
grade students, ages 8–18. It also included a subsample of 694 respondents who
volunteered to complete 7-day media use diaries. The study was conducted from
October, 2008 until May, 2009. It covered a wide variety of types of media
including computer, movies, music, print, television content, and video games.
The study focused on the children’s use of media for entertainment or pleasure and
did not include the use of these various sources for activities directly related to
schoolwork. The findings are primarily descriptive and involve comparison with
earlier findings from a study in 2004. Though descriptive, the findings are diverse
and complex, and I will only summarize some general patterns here. First, the study
found that there has been a major increase in the time children and youth spend in
using a variety of media products and platforms in their lives. Many preadolescents
and adolescents multitask in that they use a number of types of media simulta-
neously (e.g., listening to music on iPods while sending text messages or engaging
in social networking or the internet). For preadolescents, perhaps the most inter-
esting was their transformation of cell phone use from talking to texting. The report
found that on average, 7th to 12th graders report spending about an hour and half
engaged in sending and receiving texts a day, and those who text send an average of
118 messages in a typical day! Although not discussed in the report, we know from
other research that texting among preadolescents is global in nature and not
confined to the United States. Further, it is a highly abbreviated form of text often
invented by preadolescents and early adolescents and infused with their own
meanings in line with their friendships and identities (see Ling and Haddon 2008).
Livingstone (2007) laid out two differing positions in most theorizing and
research on media and children and youth. On one side, there are those who see
the media as a social problem negatively effecting children in various ways (leading
to aggression and violence, early sexuality, obesity, and so on) and set out to
identify these effects. On the other side, there are those who do not begin with an
assumption that a grave social problem exists. Instead, these process theorists and
researchers (who take a constructivist or cultural studies approach much in line with
interpretive reproduction) stress the agency of children and argue that media use
must be evaluated in social and cultural context. From this view, electronic media
can and often does have a positive side in which children and youth enjoy media,
use it, and can gain from it.
In general findings from the effects, research tradition find some short-term
negative effects (e.g., increased aggression and anxiety) especially among younger
children, but the findings are less consistent for older children and teenagers, and
long-term outcomes for all children. The findings from the process or interpretive
approach are much more complex and varied but do show that children and youth
are active, engaged, creative, and often savvy consumers and users of electronic
media (see Corsaro 2011, pp. 256–266 for a review).
Let’s return to the wide use of texting by preadolescent and teens for a focused
example of the possible positive and negative effects of electronic media use for
preadolescents’ well- being. The mobile phone itself in its various styles and
ringtones is a fashion statement for preadolescents and teens. Additionally, their
use of various lingo, jargon, and emoticons is another way of expressing ones
identity and style in peer cultures as well as exploring new and intimate relation-
ships (boyd 2010; Pascoe 2010). These positive and creative aspects of mobile
phone use have been accompanied by more negative elements such as gossiping,
bullying, and sexting (Ling 2007; Ling and Haddon 2008; Lenhart 2009). Sexting
or sending sexually suggestive nude or near nude images via text images has raised
both adult concern and debate about the legal rights of youth as some teens have
been prosecuted for child pornography for sending or having nude images of
themselves or peers on cell phones. (Lenhart 2009: New York Times 2010).
732 W.A. Corsaro
A study by the Pew Research Center (Lenhart 2009) reports that 4 % of cell-owning
teens say they have sent sexually suggestive (nude or nearly nude) images of themselves
to someone else via text messaging, while 15 % have received a sexually suggestive
image or video of someone they knew. Sexting is usually a part of early courtship among
preteens and teens as a way of exploring possible romantic and sexual relationships or
can be an integral part of ongoing romantic relationships. The study found that teens’
attitudes about sexting varied widely. Some say it as inappropriate, “slutty,” and possibly
illegal. A number of females also felt they were pressured into sharing sexual images by
boyfriends. On the other hand, many teens viewed sexting as a safe alternative to real-life
sexual activity and see it as common and not a big deal. It is doubtful that parents would
see sexting as no big deal. However, adults do not share in the everyday peer culture
which has appropriated this technology. Still, adults are better able to anticipate the
possible legal aspects and how a nude photo or suggestive message sent in confidence
can be shared with others or even be used in purposefully negative ways as a result of
acrimonious breakup. Overall, as Ling and Haddon argue, the use of cell phones and text
messaging among youth can be seen as “the best and most widespread contemporary
example of unanticipated innovation from users” (2008, p. 147).
23.5 Summary
In this chapter, I have explored children’s well-being from the perspective of inter-
pretive reproduction. Interpretive reproduction stresses the agency of children and
their collective production of a series of peer cultures for their developing membership
in society. This perspective also focuses on children as they experience and live their
childhoods rather than on how their experiences in childhood affect their individual
development and their futures as adults. Therefore, I concentrated on children’s well-
being as children and how they view their well-being from their perspectives.
I stressed that children contribute to their own well-being as early as the first years
of life and create highly complex peer cultures in the preschool and preadolescent
years. I highlighted routines such as sociodramatic role-play, fantasy play, the
protection of interactive space, and approach-avoidance play in the culture of pre-
school children to capture how children’s collectively shared activities contributed
especially to their social and emotional well-being. These routines also give pre-
school children a sense of control over their lives and help in their development of
personal identities and confidence as social actors in their childhood. I also noted that
some types of play routines (especially the protection of interactive space and
approach-avoidance play) can be misinterpreted in a negative way as selfish or
aggressive behavior. In these cases, I stress the importance of studying children’s
peer cultures in social context and from their point of view. Although research on
preschool peer culture primarily illustrates the positive aspects of children’s collec-
tive actions for the well-being, this does not deny that things like rejection of peers
and aggressive behavior or bullying do not exist in preschool peer cultures. Certainly,
some children have trouble fitting into the peer culture, may be rejected or be left at
the margins, or may try to control their peers through aggression. There is a large
literature, especially in developmental psychology, which focuses on identifying the

problems of such children and offering strategies that adults can use to help them
(Asher and Coie 1990; Ramsey 1991; Bieman 2003; Kupersmidt and Dodge 2004).
The routines of the peer cultures of preadolescents are, as I stressed in the review,
also primarily supportive of children’s well-being. In their more reflective and emo-
tional friendship processes, their complex games and lore, and their disputes and
conflicts, preadolescents collectively build solidarity in their peer relations while also
developing advanced self-concepts and personal identities. Also, as we saw preado-
lescent peer cultures are often stratified by gender and status which affects well-being
in complex ways both positive and negative. However, again I argue that we must
remember that preadolescents are active agents. They often collectively resist the
controlling behaviors of some of their peers or steer around such negative and
capricious behavior by embracing and developing their own friendships regardless
of their position in status hierarchies. Again this is not to deny that aggressive or
bullying behavior exists in preadolescent peer cultures among both boys and girls (see
Olweus 1978; Ambert 1995; Zinnecker 1998; Juvonen and Graham 2001; Underwood
2003; Goodwin 2006). Such behavior surely exists and clearly has negative effects on
children’s well-being, and we need policies to help to protect victims and to educate
perpetrators. Yet, such policies are best based on detailed and intensive research on
preadolescent culture and knowledge of the strong positive ways children collectively
support their well-being and not just that negative behaviors occur.
Finally, the well-being of preschool children and mores especially preadolescents
and adolescents is becoming more intricately interwoven with their experiences with
the electronic media (Drotner and Livingstone 2008; Drotner 2009; Ito et al. 2010).
As I discussed, process or constructivist approaches in line with interpretive repro-
duction can help us better understand the context of positive and negative effects of
the media on children’s well-being. These approaches can also document how
children and youth creatively use and embellish electronic media and how we can
best educate children and youth to be informed consumers of media.
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Capability Approach as a Framework for
Research on Children’s Well-Being 24
Susann Fegter and Martina Richter
24.1 Introduction
Currently, Amartya Sen’s (1985, 1999a, 2005) and Martha Nussbaum’s (2000)
Capabilities Approach (CA) is receiving a lot of attention in research on child well-
being. The approach seems to be particularly appropriate for countering the prob-
lems and challenges that are emerging for research in this field from the perspective
of New Social Childhood Studies (NSCS). This chapter first presents NSCS as the
central theoretical and methodological paradigm for international and interdisci-
plinary research on child well-being. It then discusses the potentials of the CA for
confronting the challenges posed from the perspective of NSCS, and reviews and
comments on selected studies on child well-being that work with the CA. It closes
by formulating perspectives for future research in this field.
24.2 Problems and Challenges for Research on Child

Well-Being from the Perspective of New Social
Childhood Studies
New Social Childhood Studies (NSCS) constitute a central theoretical and meth-
odological paradigm for international and interdisciplinary research on child well-
being. This paradigm has established itself since the 1970s within a framework
that criticizes certain directions in developmental psychology and socialization
research, and it has introduced a social-constructivist theoretical perspective to
S. Fegter (*)
Faculty of Educational Sciences, Goethe University, Frankfurt am Main, Germany
M. Richter
Institute of Social Work, Education and Sports Science, University of Vechta, Vechta, Germany

740 S. Fegter and M. Richter
research on children and childhood (see, e.g., Skolnick 1975; Thorne 1987;
Alanen 1988, 1992; Mayall 1994; James et al. 1998; Andresen and Diehm 2006;
Grunert and Kr€ uger 2006; Schweizer 2007; Turmel 2008; Honig 2009; Qvortrup
et al. 2009; Wyness 2012). This has been accompanied by a growing interest in the
life situations and social contexts of children as well as in their everyday activities
and experiences. In particular, two theoretical concepts have become established
in NSCS: the “child as social actor” and “childhood as a generational order”
(Heinzel et al. 2012, pp. 13–16). These concepts and how they interrelate are
discussed below.
24.2.1 Child as Social Actor
The methodological perspective of the NSCS on the child as social actor views
children as a distinct social group and focuses research on the reality they experi-
ence and create themselves (Honig et al. 1999, p. 119). This has had several
consequences for studies on well-being, the first being the demand to no longer
view children – as has long been standard – as part of a family, but to place them at
the center of their own separate analyses (Nauck 1995; Betz 2008). A second
consequence has been the call to examine the diversity of life domains of children
in order to gain an appropriate assessment of childhood based on those dimensions
that are relevant to daily life. A third consequence is that applying the concept of
the child as social actor in research on well-being suggests that children should be
thought of as the “experts on themselves,” and that research on their well-being
should (also) be based on their self-reports. In contrast to the previously dominant
adult-centered perspective on childhood, the NSCS takes a stronger child- and
actor-oriented approach to research (Albus et al. 2009, p. 348). NSCS stresses
regularly that this research from the perspective of children should not be misun-
derstood as being an access to “authentic” children’s voices (Hunner-Kreisel and
Kuhn 2010, p. 116). Children do not possess an “original” access to reality; it is far
more the case that they are involved in the social practices of a society and make
their own contribution to the social order as “differential contemporaries” (Hengst
2009, p. 250; see also Heinzel et al. 2012, pp. 13–16). Hence, it is always necessary
to analyze the daily experiences, perspectives, and wishes of children not only
within the context of the power-based generational and other social orders but also
as an element of the reproduction of these same orders. This applies particularly to
research on child well-being that focuses exclusively on their subjective “happi-
ness.” As Hunner-Kreisel and Kuhn have pointed out, the problem is that “by
overemphasizing the subjective perspective of children, childhood research is
possibly . . . overlooking the structural conditions of growing up . . .. Children . . .
have to be seen within the institutional and societal boundaries defining the space
within [which] they act” (Hunner-Kreisel and Kuhn 2010, p. 116). Otherwise,
social inequality and injustice are excluded from research (see Nussbaum 2000;
Marks et al. 2004; Otto and Ziegler 2007). A corresponding contextualization of
the experiences and perspectives of children is also essential from the NSCS
24 Capability Approach as a Framework for Research on Children’s Well-Being 741
perspective in order to avoid using a preordained concept of the child. This is

because the potential misunderstanding embedded in the concept of the “child as
actor” that has come to characterize its reception in childhood studies encompasses
not only the methodological level (what is assessed from the “perspective of the
child”) but also the subject itself (what is conceived as “the child”). In this context,
it is necessary to point to the risk of essentializing the agency of childhood (see
Prout 2003; Honig 2009) by understanding or misunderstanding the social-
constructivist concept of the child as social actor in the sense of some material
link between being a child and activity/competence. This may lead to the risk of no
longer seeing either the social conditions underlying children’s actual abilities to
act, decide, and shape their lives (Hengst and Zeiher 2005, p. 14) or the specific
bodily vulnerability of the child (Andresen and Diehm 2006, p. 13). Empirically,
this level of the discussion in NSCS is currently reflected in studies on the child’s
body, the societal organization of vulnerability, and the dependence on relation-
ships of care (Lareau 2003; Prout 2003; Turmel 2008; Kelle 2010). Theoretically, it
is expressed in explicit appeals to avoid a new substantial concept of the child.
“Childhood studies in the social sciences do not differ from those in the other
sciences dealing with children because they have an alternative image of the child,
but because they differentiate systematically between children and childhood”
(Honig 2009, p. 26, translated).
24.2.2 Childhood as a Generational Order
The second concept of childhood as a generational order ties in closely with the
concept of the child as social actor and extends this within social theory through the
dimensions of power and social inequality. This does not view the differentiation
between “children and adults” and their different (but interdependent) positioning
in society as something that exists per se, but as something that is being perma-
nently produced and transformed through discourses and social practices in each
specific historical context (Alanen 1992; Heinzel et al. 2012). Similar to the gender
difference, the generational difference is produced and reproduced as a decisive
structural category of social inequality that differently regulates the access of adults
and children to resources, possibilities of action, and legal positions in society
(Alanen 1992). Relatively speaking, children then represent the powerless group
that is lacking in possibilities of participation (see Fegter et al. 2010). For research
on well-being, these theoretical insights on childhood within the context of
a power-based generational order or as an element of asymmetric power relations
not only raise questions calling for further discussion but also harbor two crucial
questions regarding their normative basis: The first question addresses paternalism
within the context of research on child well-being: How can we define a concept of
well-being for children without paternalizing them in the research context? This
leads us to ask whether, when, and how we can involve children in the discourse on
understanding well-being without, in turn, conceiving their perspective in a naı̈ve
way as having no social preconditions or as being authentic, and also without
placing them under too much stress (Fegter et al. 2010). The second question is
emancipatory in nature because the concept of childhood as a generational order
obliges us to ask how we can strengthen the position of children within generation-
ally structured societies. It is not just chance that there are close ties between NSCS
and both the children’s rights movement and child policy (Hengst and Zeiher 2005).
However, the latter justify their arguments in more welfare-state-oriented than
“child-friendly” ways (Honig 2009, p. 50) and ask how a democratic society can
bring about the participation of all its members (and thereby of children as well; see
B€uhler-Niederberger and S€ unker 2009, pp. 175–182). For research on child well-
being, this means, first, that the underlying conception of well-being should also
consider possible ways in which children can participate convincingly in demo-
cratic negotiation processes while paying attention to their degrees of freedom.
Second, the potentials of research projects should also be examined to see whether
they can encourage articulation by, for example, giving a voice to children as
a marginalized group in society.
There are three final points: First, the concept in both social theory and power
theory of childhood as a generational order and the methodological perspective on
the child as social actor reveal many reasons for integrating children systemati-
cally into research on well-being. Ben-Arieh (2005), for example, names five
possible roles for children: as contributors to a study’s design, as the source of
information, as the data collectors, as contributors to the data analysis, and as
partners in utilizing the data (Ben-Arieh 2005). Second, research on child well-
being should focus convincingly on the “here and now” in order to assess the
current quality of children’s lives and experiences. Viewing childhood merely as
a transitional life phase (James and Prout 1997; Honig 2009) is not convincing
from an NSCS perspective. However, this does not mean that well-being may not
be conceived of and studied within a future-looking framework. The relevant
aspect is far more the normative benchmark from which the future of children is
anticipated. Third, research on child well-being has to face a challenge on the
level of research ethics. Doing research on children and even research with
children always means engaging in a process of “generationing” and thus in
a process of producing and reproducing power relationships. Therefore, research
on well-being also needs to consider how these dimensions of childhood studies
can be analyzed systematically and then integrated in completely concrete ways
into the process of research and analysis (Fattore et al. 2007; Fegter et al. 2010;
Alderson and Morrow 2011; Alderson 2012).
24.3 The Potential of the Capability Approach (CA) from the

Perspective of New Social Childhood Studies (NSCS)
The Capability Approach (CA) developed by Amartya Sen and Martha Nussbaum
addresses the good life and human flourishing. It analyzes the necessary pre-
conditions, possibilities, and abilities that people require in order to achieve this.
This objective has resulted in the CA receiving increasing attention in interna-

tional and interdisciplinary research (see UNICEF 2007; Albus et al. 2009; World
Vision 2010; Biggeri et al. 2011), so that it is now one of the established
“conceptual framework[s] for understanding children’s well-being” (Comim
et al. 2011, p. 3). The CA possesses a particularly strong potential for addressing
the challenges and demands facing research on child well-being from the NSCS
perspective sketched above. The present section develops this argument
by outlining the central assumptions and concepts in the CA and relating
these to the NSCS.
The conception of the good life in the CA follows the Aristotelian tradition of
not restricting well-being to material aspects of life. It focuses far more on the
possible scopes and freedoms of people to live their own lives (Unterhalter 2003;
Unterhalter and Brighouse 2003; Walker 2004; Andresen et al. 2008). The CA
conception of the good life covers not only societal contexts but also individual
needs, desires, and feelings. The CA also possesses a justice theory dimension
based on defining the necessary preconditions for this good life. In the CA perspec-
tive, an equal distribution of primary goods such as human rights or income does
not necessarily lead to equal degrees of freedom as well – although possessing
goods is viewed, in principle, as an essential and fundamental precondition. How-
ever, the opportunities in life and the potentials for self-development that individ-
uals are actually able to realize also depend on which personal abilities and social
freedoms they have at their disposal with which they can actually make use of the
available goods. Hence, the most important thing is always the relationship between
the space of social opportunities and the actor-related space of individual needs and
capabilities (see Otto and Ziegler 2008, p. 12). Conceptually and categorically, this
idea is reflected in the central distinction between functionings and capabilities.
Functionings refer to what people actually do or are; capabilities, in contrast, “focus
on the objective set of possibilities of bringing about various combinations of
specific qualities of functionings” (Otto and Ziegler 2008, p. 11). Hence, the
capabilities refer to the real, practical freedom of individuals to be able to decide
for or against the realization of certain ways of living their lives (Sen 1992, 1999a),
and this is a freedom that is tied to being able to grow up in a nurturing environ-
ment. Through this relational conception, the CA “systematically links together
freedom – in the sense of social, political and cultural framing conditions – with
individual abilities – in the sense of an unfolding of potentials, competencies and
education” (Andresen and Hurrelmann 2010, p. 2).
Looking at capabilities and functionings, Sen and Nussbaum set different prior-
ities. Amartya Sen focuses on the arrangement of the different forms of acting and
being (functionings) that each individual possesses in different ways. He asks
predominantly about positive freedoms, thereby placing greater emphasis on the
principle of the ability to act: how we can manage to have more freedom to do the
things that we have good reason to value (Sen 2000, p. 30). Martha Nussbaum, in
contrast, has compiled an “objective list” of fundamental possibilities and capabil-
ities in her CA and views this list as the foundation for what she calls “human
flourishing.” She focuses on the fundamental preconditions that a society has to
provide so that all individuals will have the possibility of being able to shape their
own lives according to their own wishes or needs.1
Nussbaum’s list follows the Aristotelian tradition that the fundamental abilities
of human beings are not innate but first have to unfold through being reared and
cared for in a nurturing environment. Society is obliged to provide these conditions
and ensure their socially just distribution (see Albus et al. 2009). This reveals how
the image of humanity in the CA links up particularly meaningfully with current
perspectives in childhood studies due to its “sensitivity to vulnerability and weak-
ness, but also its recourse to communicability and responsiveness” (Dabrock 2008,
p. 39, translated). As pointed out above, these perspectives view children not only
as the shapers of their own social reality but also in terms of their dependence and
their (also bodily) vulnerability in care relationships. At the same time, this
addresses welfare-state arrangements, with the CA providing its own specific
perspective for their evaluation. According to Sen, the individual utility of educa-
tional systems and social security systems (also for children and adolescents) is
judged by the capabilities they enable. The breadth of individually realizable
possibilities then provides information on how successfully measures of social
and educational policy equip all individuals equally with a real – and not just
a merely formal – freedom to realize different lifestyles based on their own personal
values (Sen 1999a, b; B€ ollert et al. 2011). Enabling “human flourishing” in the form
of a self-determined way of life then becomes the benchmark for evaluating
welfare-state arrangements for children and adolescents (B€ollert et al. 2011,
p. 523). Further ties between NSCS and CA can be found in the following three
features of CA: (a) adaptive preferences, (b) freedom and choices, and (c) present
and future.
24.3.1 Adaptive Preferences
With its specific perspective on the good life and its differentiation into capabilities
and functionings, the CA offers a concept of well-being that links together theo-
retical perspectives on both structure and the subject. From the NSCS perspective, it
is this interlinking that is particularly productive for research on child well-being.
1
We shall summarize this list here: (1) Life: Being able to live to the end of a human life of normal
length. (2) Bodily health: Being able to have good health. (3) Bodily integrity: Being able to avoid
unnecessary pain and experience joy; to have one’s bodily boundaries treated as sovereign.
(4) Senses, imagination, and thought: Being able to use one’s senses to imagine, think, and reason.
(5) Emotions: Being able to have attachments to things and people, to love, to grieve, to experience
longing and gratitude. (6) Practical reason: Being able to form a conception of the good and engage
in critical reflection about planning one’s life. (7) Affiliation: Being able to live with and toward
others; to enter various forms of familial and social relationships and have the social bases of self-
respect. (8) Other species: Being able to live with concern for and in relation to animals, plants,
and the world of nature. (9) Play: Being able to laugh, to play, and enjoy recreational activities.
(10) Control over one’s environment: Being able to exercise both political and material control
(Nussbaum 2000).
It does not just restrict well-being to material issues, because it places just as much
emphasis on analyzing how children themselves see their possibilities of realizing
a good life. As a result – at least theoretically – research using the CA empirically
assesses the diversity and interlacing of the life conditions and daily worlds of
children from both a structural and an individual perspective. Moreover, it harbors
only a low risk of failing to locate the experiences and views of children within their
context or of favoring a romanticizing concept of the actor. This is because its
scientific interest centers on how individual wishes and life plans relate to their
material, institutional, and political-discursive framing conditions. Therefore, from
the CA perspective, viewing children as the experts on their lives, and using, for
example, their self-reports as a basis for assessing their own well-being, means
studying their expert status in a way that links together structural and subjective
dimensions by asking about the positive freedoms to decide on how one wants to
live one’s own life (Sen 2004). In addition, with the concept of adaptive prefer-
ences, the CA possesses a theoretical tool that can be used to systematically analyze
the relationship between subjective appraisals and social contexts. Adaptive pref-
erence is the term used to describe how people adapt to situations and, to some
extent, can still be “happy” despite exposure to “objective” maltreatment (such as
slavery or violence and abuse).
People adjust their preferences to what they think they can achieve, and also to
what their society tells them a suitable achievement is for someone like them.
Women and other deprived people frequently exhibit such “adaptive preferences”
formed under unjust background conditions. These preferences will typically val-
idate the status quo (Nussbaum 2007, p. 73). For research on well-being, this
implies that happiness cannot be viewed as a sufficient indicator of well-being
from a CA perspective. There is too great a risk of neglecting social contexts and
thereby contributing (unwittingly) to the stabilization of social inequality and
injustice (see Hunner-Kreisel and Kuhn 2010, p. 116).
24.3.2 Freedom and Choices
We pointed out above that conceptions of well-being from the NSCS perspective
ask about children’s possibilities of participation and their degrees of freedom. The
core of the CA consists precisely in demanding more scope for self-determination
and autonomy. People should be enabled to choose their own lifestyles and not
have some concrete conception of the good dictated to them in a paternalistic
manner. Whereas this concern is derived from an understanding of childhood as
a generational order in NSCS, it points to the understanding of a good life derived
from the liberal school of thought in political philosophy in the CA (see Robeyns
2005). Against the background of this orientation toward freedom and choices,
Martha Nussbaum’s list of the central capabilities for a good life is a controversial
issue. Amartya Sen, for example, takes the position that there can be no “objective
list” of fundamental conditions. He views these conditions as a political issue that
always has to be dealt with within a specific context and time. “The problem is not
with listing important capabilities, but with insisting on one predetermined canon-
ical list of capabilities, chosen by theorists without any general social discussion or
public reasoning” (Sen 2004, p. 77). Other supporters of the CA stress that it is
more than a conception of significant chances of self-realization and more of a form
of human development. Nussbaum herself says that her list is strong but vague, and
not only has to be negotiated but also is necessary for the CA to gain the political
weight it needs. Basically, Nussbaum is thereby propagating the idea of what she
calls a comprehensive liberalism that will “base political principles on some
comprehensive doctrine about human life” (see Nussbaum 2011). However,
according to Deneulin (2002), she overcomes the criticism of perfectionism and
paternalism by defining the points on her list as “rights” and not as “duties” and by
also stressing the importance of consensual negotiation. Hence, both Sen and
Nussbaum emphasize that all members of a society must be included in determin-
ing and negotiating relevant capabilities and functionings. Even though they do not
state this explicitly, this also applies to the social group of children – a group that
also has to be heard and included with its own goals, wishes, and values. Hence, the
CA fundamentally addresses the problem that any research on child well-being that
simply applies its own indicators may well be paternalistic and thereby usurp
children’s autonomy. Even when this does not mean that every CA study has to
have a participative design, it does have to clarify the basis for assuming that each
specific underlying capability and functioning is relevant and valid for the group
being studied. A glance at the empirical research landscape shows that one focus of
CA research on child well-being lies precisely in determining the relevant capa-
bilities and in asking children themselves to say what they think (e.g., Biggeri et al.
2006; Alkire 2007; Andresen and Fegter 2009; Anich et al. 2011; Kellock and
Lawthom 2011).
24.3.3 Present and Future
One demand of NSCS is to conduct research on the “here and now” of children.
This should distinguish it from research that views children predominantly from
a “not-yet” perspective and treats them as being incomplete and deficient. However,
it is necessary to ask how far this perspective runs counter to the basically
developmental perspective characterizing the CA. Development is, indeed,
a central concept in the CA. Sen, for example, understands it as the process of
extending real freedoms (Sen 2007, p. 13). However, he does not use it in the same
way as developmental psychology or socialization theory but relates it within the
context of ideas on justice theory to the arrangements in society as a whole:
“The essential idea of the CA is that social arrangements should aim to expand
people’s capabilities – their freedom to promote or achieve valuable beings and
doings” (Comim et al. 2011, p. 7). Therefore, development is focused normatively
on increasing the degrees of freedom of people in a society. These degrees of
freedom result, in turn, from a specific constellation of individual abilities com-
bined with socioeconomic and cultural framing conditions. This idea also relates to
children: The human development of children can be understood as an “expansion

of capabilities” or of “positive freedoms” (Sen 1999a). Hence, even though the
concern is with an “expansion of capabilities” in children and therefore takes
a perspective that goes potentially beyond the here and now, it is not based princi-
pally on a specific idea of childhood as developmental childhood. The focus is not on
growing up to become an adult per se, but far more on future freedoms. In this sense,
Saito (2003, p. 26) concludes that “when dealing with children, it is the freedom they
will have in the future rather than the present that should be considered.”
It should also be seen that with its concept of capabilities, the CA follows
a perspective that is simultaneously inherently oriented toward the present. The
opportunity to decide, for the good reasons one values, either for or against
a specific lifestyle is, in each case, given only in a concrete and therefore here-
and-now situation. In the CA perspective (particularly in Sen), the concern is that
these freedoms should not be constrained in either present or future situations
(that then become the present).
The CA conception’s inherent tension in this simultaneous orientation toward
the present and the future is the focus of such discussions as those over school. The
reason why education is so important for Sen and Nussbaum is that it is seen as
a precondition for capabilities not to be constrained in the future either. It is stressed
that the capability “to be educated” is linked inseparably with other future capabil-
ities (see, e.g., Terzi 2007). It is also decisive for literacy capabilities or for
relationships with others. Nussbaum uses a similar argument. She identifies three
capabilities related to education: critical thinking, the ideal of the world citizen, and
the development of the narrative imagination. In sum, it can be seen that the CA is
characterized by a very specific combination of current and future perspectives.
The idea of development in the CA is not based per se on a specific concept of
the child or of childhood as a developing childhood. However, CA research
addresses the issue of the child in another way, namely, in terms of autonomy
and self-determination. This is a controversial topic within the CA discussion on the
possibility of applying the CA to children. In its basic conception, the CA assumes
a certain form of autonomy, agency, and self-determination, and it discusses
whether this can also be assumed for children (Saito 2003; Ballet et al. 2011). For
example, Saito (2003) questions the use of the CA in children by arguing that not all
individuals are able to make just one choice out of a range of options. Accordingly,
there are objections – particularly in liberal justice theories – to the idea that
children are (already) capable of and mature enough to decide what is good for
them or – and this is presented as the most important criterion – how far they are
capable of revising their decisions (Saito 2003). Nussbaum (2000, p. 78) also
addresses this issue when she points out that the capability of practical reasoning
consists in “being able to form a conception of the good and to engage in critical
reflection about the planning of one’s life.” Hence, as far as children are concerned,
the essential distinction is between the capacity to make choices and the capacity to
evaluate and revise those choices. It is particularly the presence of the latter that
some authors question, and they talk about “a weak self-determination principle” in
children, by which they mean “that the individual is in a position to make choices,
but that the framework within which they make these choices must be defined so
that their capacity for evaluation may develop and that certain, particularly harmful,
choices may thus be eliminated” (Ballet et al. 2011, p. 27). Lansdown (2005) places
a different accent in this context when he, for example, stresses how important it is
for particularly children to have access to opportunity structures that promote the
development of autonomy and self-determination.
In summary, one can see that the discussion on applying the CA to children may
sometimes lead to the emergence of developmental ideas that relate specifically to
children and the ways they differ from adults. These may well run counter to the
theoretical and methodological premises of the NSCS. This points to one of the
major current challenges in the theoretical discussion on the CA.
24.4 Empirical Research on Child Well-Being Based on the

Capability Approach
Empirical research on child well-being is becoming increasingly aware of the

potential of the CA. One focus is on studies addressing children in trikont2 states.
These include Padron and Ballet’s (2011) analysis of Peruvian street children, di
Tommaso’s (2006) study on the living conditions of children in India, or Camfield
and Tafere’s (2011) study of children in Ethiopia. However, the possibilities of
using the CA are also increasingly being discovered for research on children in
affluent countries as well (see Volkert and Schneider 2012).3 For example, the
UNICEF study of child well-being in rich countries (UNICEF 2007), the national
German surveys World Vision Childhood Studies (2010) and “Wirkungsorientierte
Jugendhilfe” [Effect-oriented youth services] (Albus et al. 2010), and several
regional studies (see, e.g., Andresen and Fegter 2009; Sch€afer-Walkmann et al.
2009) all refer explicitly to the CA. Basically, these studies can be differentiated
according to whether they aim to (a) identify relevant capabilities or functionings of
children or (b) make statements on the current well-being of children and determine
the various factors on which this depends. Studies in the first category (a) are
oriented either toward Amartya Sen and openly ask participants to name the
capabilities they value, or toward Martha Nussbaum and compare her “strong
but vague list” with children’s own perspectives. Such studies apply not only
qualitative (see, e.g., Kellock and Lawthom 2011) or quantitative research methods
(see, e.g., Andresen and Fegter 2009) but also combinations of the two (Biggeri
et al. 2006; Anich et al. 2011). Although representative surveys designed to identify
capabilities and functionings are not yet available at the time of writing (Volkert
and Schneider 2012), the major capabilities for children seem to be education, love
and care, family, and other social relations. Research in the second category (b) that
2
A collective word for the poor and developing countries of Africa, Asia and South America.
3
The highly commendable literature survey from Volkert and Schneider (2012) offers a very well
commented overview of empirical CA studies on children and the aged in affluent countries.
asks about the well-being of children on the basis of predetermined capabilities

generally works with quantitative research designs. Its findings reveal a strong
consensus that the well-being of children does not derive exclusively from material
care and income. The parents’ or the mother’s education (Grundmann et al. 2011;
Volkert and W€ ust 2011), institutional provisions by the child and youth welfare
services (Albus et al. 2009), and gender and siblings (Addabbo and di Tommaso
2011) also exert a crucial influence. Harttgen and Klasen (2009) and Nolan (2010)
have carried out studies on the CA belonging to this category that focus particularly
on the situation of migrant children.
Empirical CA studies on child well-being also differ according to how far
children participate in the research process. Ballet et al. (2011) have stressed that
such participation calls for a great deal of effort by researchers, because “children’s
participation supposes a minimal autonomy, a minimal capacity of self-determina-
tion” (Ballet et al. 2011, p. 23). How far it can be assumed that children possess this
autonomy and self-determination, or whether – in the sense of evolving capabilities
(Lansdown 2005, p. 3) – it first has to be developed, is, as mentioned above, still
a highly controversial issue (Ballet et al. 2011, p. 27). Whereas some take the
position that children are, for example, (still) unable to make independent and
responsible choices (see, e.g., Saito 2003), others are decisively in favor of
a participative methodology, with the additional advantage that it can also be
used to contribute to the unfolding of capabilities in the children participating in
such research (Biggeri et al. 2006; Anich et al. 2011; Trani et al. 2011). Studies
designed to identify the capabilities and functionings of children, and to integrate
the children in corresponding negotiation processes over capabilities in line with
Sen, work with a range of participatory methods. When it comes to studies with
quantitative designs, participatory methods are applied less frequently. Nonethe-
less, the studies of Biggeri et al. (2006) and Anich et al. (2011) have demonstrated
that methodological instruments such as questionnaire surveys are also available for
integrating children into quantitative studies. Below we present two empirical
studies that are good examples of research on child well-being based on the CA.
The first example of research that applied participatory methods to involve
children systematically in the research process and both identify and prioritize
their capabilities is the study on Street children in Kampala (Uganda) and NGOs’
actions: Understanding capabilities deprivation and expansion (Anich et al. 2011).
The authors used participatory methods to understand the levels of deprivation from
the child’s perspective. They focused attention particularly on the role of NGOs in
order to get children themselves to participate in asking about the role of political
programs and institutions in reducing or expanding the capabilities of former
street children. In all, the authors’ analysis conceived child well-being multidimen-
sionally and holistically in the sense of the CA. Such an understanding required
different methodological approaches to get children involved in the research pro-
cess so that they would participate in identifying, prioritizing, and comparing
different capabilities (Anich et al. 2011, p. 115).
Against this background, the study applied both quantitative and qualitative
methods to survey three groups of children: (1) street children, that is, those who
were completely homeless; (2) rehabilitated street children, that is, those who were
living in shelters run by NGOs and receiving regular meals, medical care, and so
forth; and (3) a control group of same-aged peers who were attending five state
schools in the same region but had never lived on the street. The use of a control
group provided the authors with an important instrument for validating their
findings. By comparing these three groups, they could relate the capabilities
named by the children to their different life conditions and appraise their function-
ings. The control group also served as an instrument to uncover so-called “adaptive
preferences formation” (Elster 1982), “valuation neglect” (Sen 1985), or “deformed
desire” (Biggeri et al. 2006, p. 68). Appraisals of capabilities are always shaped by
their context and have to be analyzed accordingly. All the children in the study were
interviewed and encouraged to give subjective appraisals by applying a “dynamic”
questionnaire (Biggeri and Libanora 2011, p. 82) that the researchers worked
through together with the children. It asked them to (1) conceptualize their capa-
bilities, (2) report on their actual functioning achievements (across dimensions),
(3) focus on social or group capabilities and move toward consensus on the
relevance of these dimensions, and (4) start prioritizing the chosen dimensions
(Anich et al. 2011, p. 116). With this approach, reported in detail in Biggeri et al.
(2006), the researchers started by referring to Nussbaum (2003, 2004) and assuming
that the first concern was to get the children involved in formulating
a “nondefinitive and open-ended” list of children’s capabilities. They then went
on to follow Sen’s approach by negotiating and validating this list of capabilities
together with the children. This resulted in the following list of 14 capabilities: life
and physical health, love and care, mental well-being, bodily integrity and safety,
social relations, participation, education, freedom from economic and noneconomic
exploitation, shelter and a safe and pleasant environment, leisure activities, respect,
religion and identity, time autonomy, and mobility (Biggeri et al. 2006, pp. 65–66;
Anich et al. 2011, p. 118). The results of the study also showed that some
capabilities were named frequently by all children: education, love and care, leisure
activities, and life and physical health (Anich et al. 2011, p. 118). A further major
finding was that the level of functionings the children actually attain varied con-
siderably depending on their life situation or experiences. For example, street
children exhibit low achievement levels, particularly in dimensions such as life
and physical health, love and care by parents, participation and information,
education, freedom from economic and noneconomic exploitation, shelter and
a safe and pleasant environment, and respect (Anich et al. 2011, p. 121). The
authors concluded that a highly valued capability dimension on the one side but
a low level of functionings achieved on the other indicates the need for further
political activities and programs to close the gap between what children value and
what they actually achieve. They also highlighted this entanglement of the capa-
bility dimension and achieved functionings within the framework of this study as
indicating the need for further research on the programs of NGOs and how far they
expand or reduce capabilities (i.e., opportunities). Looking at the role of political
programs, the study showed how, until recently, the policies and goals regarding the
social development and living conditions of vulnerable groups in Uganda were only
general (Anich et al. 2011, p. 110). It is only in the very last few years that the
government has embarked on specific political initiatives and programs, and that
various NGOs have also focused attention on orphans and vulnerable children.
In sum, the authors drew attention to the still inadequate implementation and
realization of political programs while also pointing to the role of resources.
“In addition, the lack of political will and poor coordination and collaboration
between the various stakeholders working with children detract from the already
limited resources available to support the increasing needs of children in Uganda”
(Anich et al. 2011, p. 111). They placed particular emphasis on achieving children’s
rights as a starting point for improving their living conditions, and present this as
a central political approach for expanding children’s capabilities.
An example of a study working exclusively with the qualitative methods of
empirical social research that draws on Sen’s CA and involves children in the
research process is the British study Sen’s Capability Approach: Children and
well-being explored through the use of photography (Kellock and Lawthom
2011). It applied a particularly interesting methodological approach to study
elementary-school-age children. Kellock and Lawthom (2011) justified their
interest in school through the strong significance they attribute to education in
the lives of children. Fully in line with Sen (1992) and also Walker (2004, 2005),
they assigned to education the potential “to expand abilities through opportuni-
ties” (p. 138). Depending on which opportunities in this sense are available to
children and which resources they can tap, they have different possibilities of
developing competencies, which in turn can create the preconditions for
a fulfilling adult life: “In acting on opportunities and using the resources available,
children may develop the competencies to achieve a fulfilling adult life” (Kellock
and Lawthom 2011, p. 138). Against this background, Kellock and Lawthom
(2011) wanted to find out how children experience well-being, particularly within
the school context, which alongside the family so decisively shapes their daily
lives. Their methodological approach was participatory. By pointing out that the
educational setting is dominated almost completely by adults, they saw this
approach as providing an important contribution to taking children seriously as
the experts on their lives, to positioning them as actors, and to giving them a voice
(Kellock and Lawthom 2011, p. 137). When reflecting critically on the “balance
of power” (Kellock and Lawthom 2011, p. 137) in relation to school, it should not
be forgotten that the researchers who carried out the study are adults who were in
a position of power compared to children. If this aspect is neglected, the process
of “generationing” and thereby the process of producing and reproducing
power relationships will focus exclusively on the teachers and professionals
in the school.
The concrete participatory research methods in the project were as follows:
Capabilities are identified together with the children using the photo-voice
approach. Taking photographs with Polaroid cameras is easy for children to do.
By using photography, the research project can show that children have rich
opinions and draw on a range of experience in the school setting. By referring to
Wang et al. (1998), it is also stressed that this “creative and facilitative approach is
proinclusive with children and increases the level of engagement and accessibility
for all children” (Kellock and Lawthom 2011, p. 139). Hence, with photo-voice, the
authors emphasized that they were giving the children a good opportunity to
express themselves, and they also stressed that it had the “ability to build confidence
and successfully communicate ideas visually” (Kellock and Lawthom 2011,
p. 143). Drawing on Booth and Booth (2003), the authors assumed that the method
also offers potential benefits, particularly for children with learning disorders or
lacking verbal competence, “leading to a sense of empowerment for those involved
(Kellock and Lawthom 2011, p. 143). Such skill development can also boost
children’s confidence in decision making (Kellock and Lawthom 2011, p. 143).
What is interesting here is that with their methodological arguments for the use of
photo-voice, the authors did not just stress their potential for casting light on
children’s experiences at school in the here and now; they also pointed out that
the method can contribute to developing abilities such as self-confidence and
decision making as well. This is how the participatory approach to research can
also contribute to the expansion of capabilities.
In addition, the children were encouraged to create mind maps of their person-
ally selected situations in the school and formulate both “ok” and “not-ok” feelings
about them in order to express their well-being. Analyses of the photographs and
other materials such as drawings pointed to a total of four essential capabilities or
abilities: (1) being literate, (2) being physically active, (3) being a friend, and
(4) being creative (Kellock and Lawthom 2011, pp. 145–146). These capabilities
were also studied in the sense of functionings by asking whether the children
actually do (or could) attain them or do not attain them. Constraints that (poten-
tially) emerge in the realization of these capabilities were then identified and
discussed with the children. The children emphasized ideas such as having support,
having sufficient nourishment, having adequate resources, having their own space,
having choice, and having a family and friends (Kellock and Lawthom 2011,
pp. 154–155). The authors reached the general conclusion from their participative
study design that children do clearly express and are capable of expressing their
wishes and the challenges they see confronting them. They were able to tell the
researchers how they wish to have more time for playing and being together with
their peers and that they would prefer to have fewer examinations.
To summarize, both studies aimed to examine children’s capabilities empirically
by working with a participatory research program and thereby understanding
children as agents. Both studies also shared a political orientation linked to how
to strengthen children’s rights and “give them a voice.” This political implication is
confirmed by the expressly participatory approach to research. Whereas Anich et al.
(2011) believed the data collection process (in their case, questionnaires) a means
of encouraging the children to think for themselves and to participate, Kellock and
Lawthom’s (2011) study went even further and viewed processes of the data
collection itself as an opportunity and resource (in this case, photo-voice) that
had the potential of initiating an expansion of capabilities in at least some children.
Hence, the conspicuous feature of both studies sketched here, but also for nearly
all childhood studies in the CA context, is that both a perspective of futureness and
an idea of the development and expansion of capabilities are involved. As the two
studies show, the focus of research is on using the empirical analysis of the data to
gain knowledge about children’s capabilities and functionings. This then delivers
indications for institutional and structural reforms that will potentially lead to an
expansion of children’s capabilities. A central political approach to expand chil-
dren’s capabilities resulting from this is the campaign for children’s rights. How-
ever, it is also conspicuous that thinking about the “expansion of capabilities” in
relation to children focuses the debate on abilities and capacities and leads to
thoughts about the possibilities for increasing and improving these individually –
also with an emphasis on a successful adult life. In this sense it may well be that the
critical examination of constraints to the freedom of children provides an opening
(at least in some authors) for developmental paradigms to reassert themselves and
link up with the CA-specific perspective on freedom and choices. This perspective
may well then clash with the NSCS approach presented at the beginning of this
chapter. The NSCS adopts a perspective on children as social actors in the “here and
now” and on childhood as a “generational order.” This distinguishes it explicitly
from earlier research traditions that view children predominantly from a “not-yet”
perspective and childhood as a transitional life phase, and subsequently tend to
define children in terms of developmental childhood and a childhood of child-
rearing. Hence, despite the potential advantages of the CA perspective, particularly
because of its promising theoretical framework for research on well-being due to,
above all, the systematic linking together of structure, culture, and the individual, it
is necessary to pay critical attention to its readings on the enabling of children and
adolescents; otherwise, there is a risk here of no longer keeping pace with the
current theoretical debates in the NSCS.
The discussion on whether the CA can be applied to children as a whole – and
this should be addressed once more at the end of this chapter – is just beginning.
The CA “has not yet adequately engaged with children’s issues, although much has
been written about education generally from this perspective” (Comim et al. 2011,
p. 4). Hence, as already suggested above, possible ways of applying the CA in
childhood studies have not yet been explored sufficiently in the debates on child-
hood autonomy, agency, and self-determination. The CA’s basic premise is the
individual’s capacity for self-determination. However, this is a controversial issue
when it comes to children. The possibility of being able to choose a lifestyle for
one’s own good reasons is a crucial idea in both liberal justice theories and in the
CA, although the former excludes children explicitly from its analytical frame.
Even when the current discourses on the CA reveal no general agreement on which
rights and resources have to be accepted as the concrete preconditions for individ-
uals to be able to pursue “a good life,” there is a broad consensus – at least as far as
adults are concerned – on the “principle of self-determination insofar as its negation
would amount to treating individuals as unequal” (Ballet et al. 2011, p. 25). This
decisively normative approach in the CA also raises fundamental questions regard-
ing not only the definition but also the preconditions of a good life for children. This
is a particularly important issue for research on childhood well-being and calls for
further consideration of ways to operationalize child well-being and carry out
research with children as social actors (Comim et al. 2011, p. 6). This is where the
NSCS could open up more far-reaching perspectives and approaches. Then, just as
the CA offers childhood studies on well-being and its special combination of micro-
and macrolevels in the conception of a good life, the NSCS, in turn, offers the CA
a way of thinking about the way conceptions of the child and childhood are
entangled with generational and other social orders.
Acknowledgments We thank Stefanie Albus for stimulating discussions and valuable comments
on this chapter.
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Socialization and Childhood in Sociological
Theorizing 25
Lourdes Gaitán
25.1 Introduction
The critique of the functionalist paradigm of socialization was one of the key
arguments in the early work of what came to be called the new sociology of
childhood. Dissatisfaction with the usual ways of explaining children within social
sciences is at the root of the proposals that different authors, from different schools
of thought, possessing different academic backgrounds, and teaching or researching
in different parts of the (Western) world, began conducting in the 1980s (Qvortrup
et al. 2011).
This critique was greatly important, at least in the field of sociology, as it
addressed the essence of dominant sociological thinking about the role attributed
to children in society, where children are viewed as a plastic mould into which
habits and thoughts may be poured at an early stage to facilitate the maintenance of
order and the achievement of a functional society. The brevity of the infant stage,
along with the high expectations placed on the effectiveness of good socialization,
justified the efforts of an army of teachers, educators, social workers, and psychol-
ogists. This army assumed as axiomatic principles the functionalist view of child-
hood as a privileged time in the life of human beings, where patterns could be
learned that would guide the performance of social roles.
However, the paradigm of socialization was not only solidly positioned within
the “professions of the child,” it also had crossed the academic threshold, becoming
an accepted part of common sense and, of course, the adult way of thinking which
governed the rules, design, and implementation of the different types of policies for
children. In light of this, the new sociology of childhood, with its introduction of
children as social actors and childhood as a social construction and a part of
a permanent and stable social structure, was entirely heterodoxical (Blitzer 1991)
L. Gaitán
Grupo de Sociologı́a de la Infancia y la Adolescencia, Las Matas, Madrid, Spain

760 L. Gaitán
and somewhat revolutionary compared with the existing frameworks within the
social sciences and social practice.
Once demolished, the myth of the functionalist conception of socialization and
developmental theory were considered the two key theoretical concepts for the
constriction of the child to order (Jenks), and the new sociology of childhood
seemed to disengage somewhat from theoretical developments. It began to be
more oriented to empirically demonstrating that another role of children is possible
(and real) if a different conception of the meaning of childhood is considered.
Hence, it is only much more recently that deepening interest in theoretical aspects
among followers of what has now been renamed “social studies of childhood” has
come about. There are two reasons for this change. First, more than 20 years since
the appearance of the first texts considered as fundamental, the moniker “new” is no
longer apt. Second, the field is now open to disciplinary fields other than sociology
but which share some assumptions and key concepts (such as child-centered and
agency), hence expanding and enriching the field of knowledge and research
concerning the new generation of children. However, in this chapter we prefer the
term “sociology of childhood” or “new sociology of childhood,” to differentiate
from previous sociological orientations and also to emphasize that we are adhering
to the field of sociology. This does not imply the renunciation of the possibility of
any influence that a reformulation of the concept of socialization in childhood may
have in the context of other scientific disciplines within the ambit of social studies
of childhood.
This chapter is a reflection on the what, how, and why of the critique of the
functionalist theory of socialization in the work of the 1980s’ pioneers of the new
sociology of childhood. We then consider why an alternative notion of socialization
has not subsequently developed. Is it because there is some doubt about the
existence of any kind of a process for acquiring knowledge about the rules and
ways of life in society which, somehow, can be called “socialization”? Or is the way
that socialization was conceptualized and irrevocably linked to children unaccept-
able? If the answer to this second question is in the affirmative, a new question
arises: would it be possible to reread the classics, or should we instead look to other
authors and schools (modern or postmodern) for a basis on which to reinterpret
socialization in a manner more consistent with the assumptions underpinning the
current sociology of childhood?
Our position is to consider that the latter is possible and that there are bases in the
new sociology of childhood for a redefinition of the socialization process when it
occurs early in the life of human beings. This process is not so much unidirectional,
but bidirectional. That is to say, it not only moves from more experienced beings
toward novices (from adults to children), but also consists of a complex interactive
set where the new (children) are active through vertical relationships (up and down)
and horizontal peer relationships. In this sense, two theoretical tools have been
present in the new sociology of childhood from its origin: one is the idea of
“generation” and the other is “relational.” The former seems especially robust,
which, among other advantages, may facilitate the inclusion of the sociology of
childhood in the mainstream of modern sociology, as will be argued.
25 Socialization and Childhood in Sociological Theorizing 761
25.2 The Critique of the Functionalist Paradigm of Socialization
Conventionally, sociology has considered childhood as a privileged space for

socialization, that is, as a stage of life where it is possible to introduce primary
values and norms socially accepted as forms of behavior that will lead to an
appropriate integration of individuals into society. Consequently, the interests of
sociology have focused on the socialization process and, also, analysis of the
behavior of the main institutions responsible for that process: family and school.
In both cases, children’s lives were not seen as the formal object of study but instead
served instrumental purposes: maintaining the order of the social system and the
functioning of social institutions. In this context, childhood has indeed played an
instrumental role in sociology, as a period of time to be used to initiate into social
life those who would, in due course, become real social actors. From this perspec-
tive, the subject under study was not childhood itself but the phenomenon of the
socialization of children and the deviations that occurred from the guidelines set for
this process. One of the hallmarks of the emerging sociology of childhood was its
opposition to these conventional visions.
Some signs of rejection of these conventional visions can be found in Qvortrup
(1993, p. 14), who states that the concept of socialization, in its developmental
meaning, is not useful to consider in sociological terms unless thought of as an
expression of attitudes, influence, and the power of adults. Similarly, Ivar Frones
(1994, p. 161) argues that sociological theories of socialization do not analyze the
socialization process as such, focusing rather on what this process produces. James
and Prout (1997, p. 13) note that:
The importation of a psychological model directly into sociological theory collapsed
together two definitions of what constitutes the subject; the individual as an instance of
the species and the person as an instance of society. The implicit binarism of the psycho-
logical model was uncritically absorbed into classical socialization theory. . .. They are, in
effect, two different instances of the species. Socialization is the process which magically
transforms the one into the other.
Corsaro (1997, p. 10) points out the weaknesses of what he calls the “determin-
istic model” of socialization (including both functionalist and reproductive theo-
ries), which is overly focused on results while underestimating the active and
innovative capacities of all members of society. Put another way, Corsaro maintains
that these abstract models are oversimplifying complex processes and, along the
way, overlooking the importance of children and childhood in society. Finally, it is
worth mentioning Ambert (1992), who argues that as the concept of socialization is
built by both functionalist sociologists and child development theory, children are
deprived of the opportunity to be considered as fully-fledged actors. The child in
this context is, in fact, a mere recipient and future product (Ambert 1992, p. 13),
while the child as a social actor would represent a serious dysfunction.
The conventional concept of the socialized being owes much to the Talcott
Parsons theory of social systems. Chris Jenks provided the most in-depth analysis of
the functionalist paradigm of socialization, as developed by Parsons, from the new
perspective of the sociology of childhood. Jenks (1982) first undertook this analysis
762 L. Gaitán
in his pioneering work entitled Childhood: Essential Readings, later returning to the
subject and offering similar arguments in Childhood (Jenks 1996). According to
Jenks, Parsons’ work establishes a structure of social organization that integrates
action and constriction. This structure operates on economic, political, cultural,
interactional, and personal levels and permeates all expressions of collective human
experience. For Jenks, the social system as conceived by Parsons constitutes the
oneness of the social world through two metaphors: first, the “organism,” which
refers to the unspecific, alive, and related to content; and second, the “system,”
which is explicit, dead, and related to form. According to Jenks, through the central
concept of socialization, Parsons commits a theoretical violence, particularly on
children, by aiming to turn the worlds of content into form. In Parsons’ conception
of the social system, consensual core values that operate at the level of individual
personality are presumed to exist. Based on this assumption, the socialization of
children, who are considered a primary reality and not yet socialized, involves the
construction of instrumental and expressive guidelines for the structuring
of the individual personality, with those guidelines pandering to the expectations
of the adult system as a whole.
Jenks explains that in the social system according to Parsons, the subsystem of
personality is closely related to the problems of childhood and socialization. The
unsocialized child constitutes its focus and primary reality. Consequently, this
subsystem needs to ensure that every child has an adequate environment so that
he is able to develop the appropriate capabilities demanded by the adult system. The
family appears in this theory as the most appropriate place to successfully drive the
primary socialization of children.
For Jenks (1996, p. 18), in Parsons’ theorizing about the child there is
a significant psychoanalytic dimension, shown not only by the application of certain
Freudian categories but also in its emphasis on the need to penetrate into children’s
inner selves, as the social system depends on this penetration. In essence, according
to Jenks, Parsons believes that the social system is dependent on the total capture of
personalities, but this overshadows the possibility of divergence, dissolution, dis-
sent, or difference. The Parsonian concept of “need dispositions” combines two
features that also have psychoanalytic resonance: some kind of performance or
activity and a kind of punishment or satisfaction. Therein, Jenks has found the
perfect ingredients for a homeostatic balance between desire and satiation which is
translated as the desired pattern in the child’s socialization process.
Jenks says (1996, p. 20) that in Parsons’ work, and in the tradition of the theory
of socialization that follows therefrom, the child has been successfully surrendered
to the dictates of the social system. The child is conceived of as having a theoretical
purpose, serving to support and perpetuate the fundamentals and the various
versions of man, action, order, language, and rationality. The constraints imposed
on the spontaneous behavior of children in the social practice of childhood are
sublimated under theoretical assumptions used to support ideas of integration and
order and also at the analytical level.
In his earlier work, Jenks (1982, p. 23) justifies his selection of Parsons’ work
and that of Piaget for analysis because of the clarity and insight of their works and
the significant influence they exert in the social sciences, leading academic writers
to frequently draw parallels between socialization and psychological development.
According to Jenks, these authors, and the tradition of which they are part, have, in
broad terms, captured and monopolized the child in social theory. This serves as
support for Jenks’ assertion that childhood is not a natural product but a social
construction, with its status hence constituted in particular socially located forms of
discourse. Thus, different “theoretical” children serve the different theoretical
models of social life from which they emanate.
In a more recent work, Honig (2011, pp. 66–67) undertakes a critical review of
Jenks’ own critique of Parsons. According to Honig, the problem is that Jenks
changes Parsons’ theoretical framework (i.e., how is social order possible?) and
analyzes “socialization” as a way of thinking about the child, as a social form of
knowledge, as a construct. According to Honig, this is a distortion of the paradigm
of socialization represented by Jenks as a discourse that constitutes “the child.”
Honig adds that in any case, this formulation carries the risk of confusing the
object-related and the epistemological levels of the construct concept. From our
point of view, this was precisely Jenks’ intention: to move the theoretical frame-
work to demonstrate how the subject child is subjected to the tyranny of a theory of
social order. A theory that involves this tyranny at the same time as a significant
moral component aimed at the social production of a docile citizenship (O’Neill,
quoted in Jenks 1996, p. 15) may be one of the major reasons why socialization has
attained broad acceptance in policy and social practice.
For Honig, the risk of confusion between object and concept is even clearer in
another notable author on the modern sociology of childhood, Leena Alanen.
Alanen’s criticism of the socialization paradigm addresses a way of thinking that
justifies the social exclusion of children and couches a normal childhood in terms of
physical weakness, the need for protection, and regularities of physical growth and
mental development. For her, the sociology of childhood is the antithesis of this, as
it treats children as social actors rather than objects of socialization. As
a sociological approach from the child’s standpoint, it posits the child as the main
conceptual focus (Alanen 1992). According to Honig (2011), the ambivalence of
this position lies in the combination of an epistemological critique with a normative
position. This carries the risk of an ontologization of power and a naturalization of
the concept of actor.
While it is true that Parsons’ work on the social system allows more flexibility in
interpreting his description of the socialization process than is available when
considering that offered by his detractors, the overall impression one may take
from reading Parsons’ description is that it is a story told from a single point of
view, that of an adult male, and with one purpose, maintenance of the existing
social order (Rodrı́guez 2007). However, it can be argued that Parsons stepped
forward to characterize childhood as the time when the first social links are
developed, which is important for sociology. It might also be said that this con-
striction of the child to order (in the words of Jenks), which is what comes to
represent socialization for Parsons, at least requires the participation of the child
insofar as socialization mechanisms operate only to the extent that the process of
764 L. Gaitán
learning is an integral part of a broader process of interaction in complementary

roles. Yet, despite all this, some Parsonsian text expressions are difficult to recon-
cile with the current way of thinking about children, whether scientific, based on
rights, or common sense (as are some which directly or indirectly relate to women).
This applies, for example, when undertaking a sort of blackmail, referring to the
condition of dependence of children on adults as the focal point to support the
implementation of the lever of socialization (Parsons 1988, p. 205).
Within the space shared by the new sociology of childhood, and also starting
from a critical view of the socialization paradigm, there are two authors who
advance an alternative formulation of the concept. The first is Ivar Frones (1994),
for whom a theory of socialization requires a conceptual structure that represents
the scope of modern society. Drawing on Habermas, who interprets the rationality
of modern society as a field of communicatively shared intersubjectivity that pro-
duces the potential for some form of “communicative action,” Frones considers that
the structure and form of society influences the socialization model by shaping the
social and cultural framework of childhood. Additionally, social changes affect not
only the content of social interaction but also the content of and relationships
among the social stages of individual development, influencing childhood settings.
The interactions of local culture, position in the community, and individual factors,
and the interplay between those factors and the wider cultural and social context can
produce an overall context entailing different paths for individual development.
Childhood is not seen as a process affected by other factors but as a set of structures
that influence the social development of the individual. Thus, according to Frones,
childhood forms a conceptual and analytical bridge between societal and individual
development and socialization. This bridge will be crucial in societies characterized
by social change.
William Corsaro (1997) is another author who reviewed conventional models of
socialization and proposed an alternative. After criticizing what he calls determin-
istic and constructivist models of socialization, Corsaro proposes that sociological
theories of childhood must break with individualistic doctrines that describe the
social development of children as simply an internalization of adult skills and
knowledge. On the contrary, he believes that from a sociological perspective,
socialization is not just a matter of adaptation and internalization, but also
a process of appropriation, reinvention, and reproduction. Thus, he proposes an
alternative notion of interpretive reproduction. The term interpretive refers to
innovative and creative aspects of the participation of children in society: children
create and participate in their own unique peer culture, appropriating information
from the adult world and importing it into their own to address their own peer
concerns. The term reproduction includes the idea that children do not simply
internalize society and culture but actively contribute to cultural production and
change. In contrast with the linear view of developmental psychology, Corsaro
conceives of interpretive reproduction as a spiral in which children produce and
participate in a series of interlinked children’s cultures, making up a network
similar to a spider web, crossed by various institutional fields (family, educational,
occupational, community, political, religious) within which children are producing
culture with peers and adults. Corsaro’s well-founded proposal provides an answer,
based on his ethnographic work with groups of very young children (those at
preschool level), to those who question the active role of children in the socializa-
tion process. Especially noteworthy in Corsaro’s work is the subject of peer culture
as a mediator in the process of interpretive reproduction. In subsequent publica-
tions, the author insists on the idea that socialization is not something that happens
to children; it is a process in which children interact with others, create their own
peer culture, and eventually come to reproduce, extend, and join the adult world
(Corsaro and Molinari 2000, pp. 197–198).
Returning to the more negative view of the conventional concept of childhood
socialization, a review of the literature of the sociology of childhood in the last
20–25 years offers many more examples similar to those mentioned above.
Denying the validity of the functionalist paradigm of socialization as a unique
tool for analyzing the contemporary social role and lives of children, or criticizing
its assumptions (with differing levels of success), is almost a rite required to be
fulfilled prior to approaching the study of any particular aspect of the lives and
activities of children which seeks to place the focus on their active involvement
and relational character. Yet despite this, apart from Frones viewing socialization
as an intersubjective phenomenon or Corsaro’s interpretive reproduction, it is rare
even in passing to find an explicit stance or alternative interpretation concerning
the meaning of socialization, whether from the point of view of the child’s agency
or on the structural phenomenon of childhood. This does not mean that the
sociology of childhood ignores the term; nor does it dispense with the general
idea of a process that incorporates discovery, interpretation, and reproduction of
forms of behavior. However, it seems that once one paradigm is removed, it is not
considered necessary to build another, but rather to implicitly work on
a framework similar to that stated by Frones (i.e., intersubjectivity but in
a socially conditioned form). It is as if it were thought that once children were
considered of interest in their own right, that as socialization was no longer the
object that justified the presence of children in sociological analysis, it was
possible to ignore the concept altogether.
However, we believe that even today this is not the position of other academics
studying childhood or children’s lives. These academics continue to take for
granted the validity of the Parsonsian scheme, either repeating it in broad terms
and applying it in a manner best described as mechanically routine, or, at most,
constructing their own arguments but always starting from the implicit acceptance
of this conventional scheme. It is our view that socialization is one of the issues that
should be included among both the theoretical challenges and the commitments of
a sociology of childhood that seeks not merely to play a particularistic or even
a marginal role, but also to make its own contributions to the overall pool of social
knowledge and social studies of childhood. In our view this work should begin with
a reinterpretation of the most influential sociological thought on the issue of
socialization, either before or after Parsons, to which the following chapter of this
chapter is devoted. The same task could continue with a deeper examination of the
more theoretically powerful proposals of the new sociology of childhood, within
766 L. Gaitán
which it is possible to include the issue of socialization in a manner coherent and

consistent with the paradigms commonly accepted among academics, as we seek to
demonstrate in the final section of this chapter.
25.3 Understanding Childhood as a Socialization Stage
Criticizing socialization does not mean renouncing all of its dimensions and
influences, especially when one considers that although it is a relatively recent
concept, it refers to a reality as old as human societies. The problem of
acculturation, or the introduction of new members into a society, has been
a subject of interest in philosophy (from Plato to Rousseau), anthropology (from
Ruth Benedict and Margaret Mead), and history (as in the influential work, most
recently, of Philip Aries), and is currently a topic of interest in interdisciplinary
social sciences.
As demonstrated widely and repeatedly (Ambert 1992; Qvortrup 2003), child-
hood as an object of scientific knowledge was disregarded in sociology until as
recently as the early 1980s, when various authors began to draw attention to this
neglect and actively propose the recovery of the sociology of childhood. Before-
hand, children had appeared only sporadically in social research or had been used to
illustrate social problems (such as crime) or accompany explanations of social
institutions such as family or school. This is true despite the first decades of the
twentieth century having seen reformist actions that impacted children. Despite all
the activity directed at children, the sociological gaze was directed elsewhere
(Shanahan 2007, p. 409). Even the central role of children in the functionalist
paradigm of socialization comes about due to a different scientific objective, the
study of social systems.
As noted by Pinto (1997, p. 45), the issue of socialization in sociology has been
approached in two ways: from the perspective of society and respective socializing
agents and from that of individuals in the process of socialization and the respective
social worlds. In the first case, the central question is how a given society transmits
or inculcates values, beliefs, norms, and lifestyles. In the second, the focus is
primarily on the activities of individuals in the processes of appropriation, learning,
and internalization, by way of which they become self-conscious and develop the
abilities to integrate, communicate, and participate in the society and culture in
which they live. The first position is more common in conventional sociology, and
the second is an aspiration, at least, of the new sociology of childhood. Our
intention in this section is to explore, in the context of the first approach, whether
it would be possible to use classical or modern theories of socialization with a child-
centered orientation.
In sociological theory, the issue of socialization neither began nor ended with
Parsons, as we will see. Lamo de Espinosa (2001) proposes a cycle of five
generations of thinkers that summarize the history of sociology. As the author
explains, this is not about generations in the strict sense as defined by Mannheim,
but in the broader sense of contemporaries who shared the same historical period.
These generations are the following: pioneers in the eighteenth century; founders
from the early to mid-nineteenth century; institutionalizers during the early twen-
tieth century; compilers in the mid-twentieth century; and finally constructivists
that currently overlap with other trends such as the return to grand theory or
postmodernism (Lamo de Espinosa 2001, p. 30). Parsons is located in the fourth
generation of this scheme, the so-called compilers, comprising scholars and
teachers who very consciously sought to make sociology a rigorous scientific
discipline, a science of society. To do so they try to find a synthesis or convergence
among the various currents of thought that went before them, whether conservative
or critical. Within this generation, two groups dominate: the group of conservative-
minded sociologists, with Parsons figuring as its head, and the authors involved in
the development of the critical theory of society, grouped together under the label
of the Frankfurt School. Both groups were influenced by the dramatic events that
shook the world in the early decades of the twentieth century, from the Russian
Revolution of 1917, to the emergence and growth of Nazism, to the First and
Second World Wars. Their main works were published around the 1940s, with
their influence extending to the 1960s and 1970s.
25.3.1 Socialization and Education
Among the authors of the generation that preceded Parsons, the institutionalizers
(according to the Lamo scheme), is the figure of Emile Durkheim, on whose work
Parsons relied for the development of his theory of the social system, which
includes the concept of socialization mentioned above. It is generally accepted
that around 1910 it was Durkheim who first used the term “socialization” in the
strict sense that it has since acquired when he spoke of the “social nature” and
“methodical socialization,” both themes reflected in his posthumous work. It was
however much earlier, in 1828, that the Oxford English Dictionary first carried the
verb socialize, from which socialization derives, and indeed in 1897, F. G. Giddings
wrote The Theory of Socialization.
In any case, it can be said that Durkheim was the earliest sociologist to show an
interest in childhood, though this is not so much due to childhood itself but rather
because it is the object of all social institutions and practices that revolve around
education, an issue that was a topic of special concern for him and to which he
devoted much of his work.
This does not mean that it is possible to find in the French thinker something akin
to a “sociology of childhood.” Rather, we find a general concept of the nature of
childhood developed within a pedagogical and moral discourse, suggesting peda-
gogical action aimed at overcoming a childlike nature, which is confusing, vague,
and too distant from the moral rectitude an adult should display. So Durkheim
comes to define education as a generational pressure on the child to internalize
certain physical, intellectual, and moral states, and to describe the role of the child
in the interaction that occurs during the educational process as a state of hypnotic
trance-like passivity.
768 L. Gaitán
Durkheim’s thinking on education is not a particular application of his socio-

logical categories nor an addition to his general sociology; it is a central and
indispensable part of his work, inasmuch as education acts to bond two central
concepts: the individual and society, and it is the necessary tool for the proper
reproduction of the social order. Durkheim was concerned about the loss of social
ties in modern society caused by the weakening of the processes of internalization
of morality. He believed that this decline could only be arrested through regulatory
processes that promote social integration (Usátegui 2003). His interest in educa-
tional action as an expression of the pressure that society exerts on the individual to
internalize its culture and rules follows logically, the idea being that such action
will produce, on average, a more social and “human” being. Moreover, this
educational task should begin early, because human beings are not born but made
insofar as they are integrated into society, i.e., they are socialized.
It is necessary that, as quickly as possible, (society) superimposes over the selfish and
asocial being just born another one, able to lead a moral and social life. This is essentially
the work of education. (Durkheim 1975, p. 54)
The socialization of new generations is needed because the constitutive charac-

teristics of human beings (as opposed to those of animals) make it impossible to
genetically transmit all the aptitudes required for social life. Education is thus the
means by which society prepares the minds of children for the essential conditions
of their own existence. Education aims to arouse in the child a number of physical,
intellectual, and moral states required in both society as a whole and the specific
environment that is specially designed for him (Durkheim 1975, pp. 52–53).
Durkheim insists on considering the educational process as a task of socializa-
tion in several of his texts. When he says that education is a methodical socializa-
tion of the younger generation, this refers to the two beings that exist within each of
us: first, the individual being (the mental states that relate only to ourselves and
private events), and second, the system of ideas, feelings, and customs that are
expressed in the group or different groups within which we are integrated (such as
religious beliefs, opinions, and moral practices; national or professional traditions;
and collective opinions of all kinds). This dual nature creates the need for social-
ization, which affects all of the parts that constitute the social being. The final
purpose of education is simply to develop that being (Durkheim 1976, p. 141).
Durkheim conceives of education as the action exerted by a generation of adults
over the younger generation who are not yet ready for social life. As such, we may
inquire as to which segments of the adult population are exerting an educational
function and thus are particularly involved in the socialization process. Here we
find that while in most theories the family appears to be the main socializing
agency, the French sociologist differs from this criterion. In Durkheim’s sociology,
the family is not an appropriate agent to carry out the important task of moral
education, precisely because of family warmth and affection. These characterize
the relationships within the family and preclude its effectiveness as a socializing
agent (Lamanna 2002). Durkheim feared that indulgence is the normal attitude of
parents, while education, as it involves the imposition of control over one’s own
desires and the child’s impulses, requires a kind of external authority, applied from
outside the family. Furthermore, if education is an essentially social function, the
State (as the representative of society) cannot stand aside. Rather, it must play
a major role in regard to the socialization of children in the norms and expectations
of society, as well as in formal intellectual learning. Finally, the family can only
partly satisfy the child’s need for knowledge regarding social life since it is unable
to offer a breadth of knowledge matching the facets of life he will probably have to
cope with as an adult.
According to Durkheim, school provides the child with a set of mental habits,
which vary from country to country, depending on period and social environment.
Therefore, the fundamental function of schools is to establish a particular culture as
authentic and legitimate and then ensure its systematic and continuous inculcation.
In consequence, educational practice is a methodical task of differential socializa-
tion according to the social structure, that is, depending on the diversity of historical
societies and specific social groups. This differential nature means that education
plays a dual role: homogenization and diversification. Homogenization is needed
because society cannot survive if there is not enough homogeneity among its
members, to which end education fixes the essential similarities required for
collective life in the soul of the child. Diversity is required because otherwise any
constructive collaboration would be impossible, so education ensures the persis-
tence of the diversity necessary for such end (Durkheim 1975, p. 52). On the other
hand, reinforcing the authoritarian aspect of his concept of education (and thus of
socialization), Durkheim goes so far as to state that pedagogical and educational
relationships are in fact relationships of domination:
When things are seen as they are and always have been, it becomes clear that all education
is an ongoing effort to impose on the child ways of seeing, feeling, and acting to which he
would have not come spontaneously. (Durkheim 1978, p. 124)
From this domination emerges another function of educational practice: the

development of an unquestionable moral doctrine that imposes the legitimacy of
a particular culture or way of life. Moral education occupies a preponderant place
for Durkheim because in the context of increasing secularization within which his
work is produced, he tries to find rational substitutes for the religious notions so
long connected with moral ideas in order to then develop specific pedagogical
principles (Di Pietro 2004). There are three essential properties of this “secular-
ized” morality: first, the spirit of discipline (linked to the imperative of moral
rules); second, the collective interest and adherence to the social group; and third,
the autonomy of the moral agent. From these coordinates one can understand the
prominent role that Durkheim gives to education in his work on moral education.
In this sense, the teacher plays an important role, functioning as the embodiment
of culture and representing the meaning of knowledge. In the author’s words, the
teacher represents the body of a morally superior person: society (Durkheim 1975,
p. 71). In short, education must ensure that a child submits his impulses to the rule
of will. To obtain this result, the educator must be an authority for children, one
who derives moral ascendancy and power from the impersonal source he
770 L. Gaitán
represents (society). For the child, this educator is the closest manifestation of the
supremacy of duty and reason to which the child paradoxically must submit in
order to be free.
From the perspective of the current approach of social studies of childhood, the
role assigned to the child within the theoretical framework of Durkheim would be
heavily criticized, with the child in Durkheim’s work appearing as a passive being
that must, almost more than being socialized, be tamed practically by force. By
ignoring the conflicting aspects or interactive results that may arise out of the
learning process, the child is refused any role as a social agent. Instead, an edifice
of moral legitimacy is constructed to protect the dominant relationship the adult has
with the child. However, if attention is paid to the “omission” of the family in
Durkheim’s socialization model and how the role of the family in education is
subordinated to society (represented by the State through its educational institu-
tions), it can be concluded that Durkheim’s notion emphasizes socialization of
school because it is oriented toward life in society, while the family is the place of
individuality. Seen in a generous light, one may hence perceive a latent recognition
of the role of children in the public sphere, albeit subordinate, passive, and having
value only for their docility. Also, the cultural and historical context for school can
be read as an acknowledgment of childhood education as a product of dominant
social thought which, in turn, tends to produce the desired type of childhood.
However, this does not imply an inclination of Durkheim toward what would in
the future be known as constructivism in sociology.
25.3.2 Sources of Symbolic Interactionism
George Herbert Mead was a contemporary of Durkheim and therefore susceptible to

inclusion (following Lamo) in the group of the institutionalizers in the history of
sociological theory. Yet Mead was not a sociologist but a psychologist and
a philosopher. Furthermore, his main work (Mind, Self and Society) was not released
during the years in which he was active but at a later stage, published by his students
in 1934. Despite all this, as the founder of symbolic interactionism, Mead’s influence
in the field of sociology has never fallen below that which he has enjoyed in other
fields, including social psychology. Mead’s approach is at the opposite end of
functionalism as well as being interested in the study of social structure. In contrast,
symbolic interactionism is presented as a stream of subjectivism with
a microsociological orientation, which is occasionally the cause for the criticism
that his position is excessively constrained within the scope of intersubjectivity.
Interactionism proposes an open scheme of socialization in which trajectories of
social actions contain variables of a much more diverse and complex nature than
a simple choice between conformity and deviation. In Mead’s explanation of the
socialization process, children play a crucial role: although they are not social
agents comparable to adults, they are indeed agents in a procedural sense, as
manipulators of the group’s social acquis in their learning process toward social
life (Rodrı́guez 2007). Mead’s construction of the theory of formation of self
requires the concurrence of the child from the beginning, with the child being
actively involved in developing an awareness of self and other through a continuous
interactive process involving genuinely childlike types of activity that Mead
labeled game and play.
Quoting Claude Dubar, Tomasini (2010) comments that Mead was the first to
describe, in a coherent and reasoned manner, the socializing process as the con-
struction of the self through communicative interaction with others and the estab-
lishment of community and societal relationships between socializer and socialized.
The scheme of constitution of the person is anchored in a symbolic process to the
extent that symbols and signs structure behavioral rules. The child can give
meaning to its behavior after receiving the interpretations of others when they
react to the child’s actions. In this manner, the child is incorporating social attitudes
into its pool of experience which are at first particular, linked to significant others,
and gradually become generalized until they reflect the organized attitudes of the
social group. This process introduces organization in the person.
According to Mead, the child’s play, understood in the sense of representation
of roles, is an essential step in the process of building self-consciousness. Playing
is a social activity that presupposes a developed language (words, gestures,
actions) and some contact with the world of adults, especially parents. Through
the assumption of different roles when playing, the child pretends to be in another
role (mother, father, teacher) and enters and experiences that other’s world. From
this fundamental process, two decisive consequences for child development are
derived: the first is the experience of otherness, that is, the outside world as
a different reality, which is, for Mead, prior to the experience that children have
of themselves. The second is related: having the experience of the other, the child
sees himself, that is, he is “objectified” as separate from the world, hence becom-
ing a self. Through recreational activities, the child becomes conscious of others
and himself and also (and this would be a third aspect) develops a process of
unification of these different dimensions. This is what transforms the game into
a real instance and a means of developing relationships and sociability. For Mead,
the self is above all a social product and a reality essentially cognitive in nature
(Pinto 1997).
To explain the social development of the person, Mead (1957) argues that the
child, unlike the adult, is not yet organized but is fluctuating and changing. Thus,
the characteristic relational mode of early childhood is play, in which one role
succeeds another, and what is done at one time does not determine what will be
done on the following occasion. At this stage, the capturing of other individuals is
not yet generalized. In contrast, in the game, the different attitudes that a child
assumes are organized and this organization exerts control over his own actions.
The fundamental difference between the game and the play is that in the former, the
child has to take into account the attitude of all others who are involved in the game.
These attitudes to be taken into account are organized in a kind of unity and it is
hence the organization that controls the individual’s reaction. We then have an
“other,” which is an organization of the attitudes of those involved in the same
process (Mead 1957, p. 184).
772 L. Gaitán
In the game (that is the organized group game, as occurs, for example, in sport),
the child has to relate to others and understand the rules of the game. Through his
participation, he attains an understanding of the rules he must accept and respect in
order to be accepted as a player. Mead calls this the generalized other, equivalent to
generally accepted behavior within the community, where attitudes of others are
taken and incorporated in the individual. This generalized other can be seen as the
norm in a social group or situation. In this way the individual understands what
behavior is expected and appropriate in different social situations. The family, the
baseball team, school, and society are examples of social situations through which
the child gradually develops understanding of the rules of behavior.
Mead (1982) says that the organized community or social group that gives the
individual his unity of person can be called the generalized other. The attitude of
the generalized other is the attitude of the whole community. It is in the form of
generalized other that social processes influence the behavior of the individuals
involved in them, that is, it is in this way that the community exercises control over
the behavior of its individual members, because in this manner the social process or
community enters as a determining factor in the individual’s thinking (Mead 1982,
pp. 184–185).
The “me” is an entity that designates the control system of the behavior
constructed by the child in adopting toward himself the expectations of the gener-
alized other. The individual may regulate his participation in social actions because
he has experienced himself in the roles of others involved in the common activity.
Such incorporation of the attitudes of the social group leads to the development of
organization in the person. Combining all these series of organized attitudes
provide his “me,” which is the person he is aware of being.
In short, the explanation proposed by Mead for the process of the emergence of
self and the ability to look at oneself as an object takes childhood as a key stage.
Mead points out that almost from the moment of birth, human nature is social and
not merely biological, but this is useless if not activated with the experience of
interaction. The prolonged dependency of the child is the proper ground for those
first experiences to facilitate the emergence of the self and the individual. However,
Mead rejects the view that this is achieved through a process of imitation of
behavior, instead positing a more complex development that includes two different
stages. These stages, named play and game, are successive and move from lesser to
greater complexity. The result of this process is the internalization of the social,
where the subject incorporates social control and the gaze of others in the form of
generalized other.
Although Mead’s interpretation of child development does not reject the idea of
social control and the necessary adjustment of the individual to the social order,
what stands out is the active role of the child in the process of gathering information
and interpreting that order through relationships with others and the progressive use
of symbolic tools that become available. Consequently, it may be assumed that
Mead’s approach is far more acceptable from the point of view of shared focus for
the new social studies of childhood than the functionalist or direct precedent
approach seen in Durkheim’s ideas on education.
Thus, it is not uncommon to find ideas inspired by Mead in the new sociology of
childhood, either directly or through Mead’s influence on other notable sociologists
who have in turn influenced sociologists of childhood. On the other hand, one of the
most common criticisms of symbolic interactionism has been that it attributes too
much autonomy to the individual (oversocialization) and underestimates the coer-
cive power of the structure. This critique could also be made by the new sociology
of childhood, due to the somewhat linear nature of Mead’s proposals and his
assessment of a context that does not go beyond the primary institutions and the
closest environments of everyday life, disregarding the global structural level.
25.3.3 Current Trends
Returning to the five generations of influential authors that are guiding us through
this review of the place of children in the concept and description of the socializa-
tion process, according to Lamo, the 1960s and 1970s signposted a turning point in
twentieth century sociology that allows the distinction of two main periods. The
first, running from the Second World War to the intellectual crisis of 1968, is
marked by the contrast between sociological right and left. The second opens up
a very different and still incomplete path, which instead of a polarization between
two schemes, presents itself as divided into a plurality of orientations, schools, and
styles. This new path includes, first, constructivism.
In contemporary constructivism, it is considered that what matters is not so much
to capture reality as it is and describe how things are (if they can be in some way),
but how they are interpreted, understood, or constructed by the actors. Therefore,
the key is not the “objective situation” but the (subjective) “definition of the
situation.” This represents a shift in focus from the form of producing reality to
the ways of interpreting that reality, and it is due to a change in the underlying
philosophical orientation in both models. In the previous stage, both Marxist and
functionalist visions shared a somewhat Darwinian thought process based on the
need for reconciliation between man and his environment. The new sociologists,
however, think about the world with the homology of communicating rather than
producing, considering that social order rests on the exchange of messages rather
than the production and exchange of objects. Reality is conceived of as a world of
symbols and representations. The task of social science is to deconstruct these
representations, to analyze how they come about and how they create and produce
reality (Lamo de Espinosa 2001, p. 39).
Second, the clear contrast between the equally powerful realisms of the com-
pilers and the constructivists led in the 1980s and early 1990s to a vivid debate
between micro and macro, nominalism and realism, explanation and understanding,
which has proven very fruitful in the construction of sociological theory. The
outcome of this debate has been a return to a kind of grand theory, whose major
reference works (according Lamo de Espinosa) were published between 1979 and
1984 and were authored by Pierre Bourdieu, J€ urgen Habermas, Nicklas Luhmann,
Anthony Giddens, and James Coleman. However, apart from a shared time period,
774 L. Gaitán
it is difficult to find any unity among these texts beyond the search for a global and
comprehensive analytical framework for sociology, that is, beyond their theoretical
ambition. While everyone tries to build bridges between the two dualisms inherited
from previous generations, notably in terms of the tension between structures and
actions, each author assigns different weights to each party in the relationship.
The third current trend of sociology mentioned by Lamo de Espinosa refers to
the postmodern, which occupies a location beyond the traditional and the modern.
Lamo explains that through continued use of the prefix post, contemporary sociol-
ogists seek to establish a new line of demarcation. The implication is that we are
beyond modern societies, facing a new and unforeseen change representing
a second modernization, a modernization of modernity – a reflexive modernization,
according to Beck. In short, we can say that the constructivists, the new social
theorists, and theorists of the postmodern are not three contemporary generations.
Rather, they are one and the same, albeit focused around three different research
programs: critical deconstruction of social order, creation of a social theory, and
unraveling of the mystery of postmodernity (Lamo de Espinosa 2001, p. 42).
As in previous generations, while the term socialization is commonly used in the
most recent sociological literature, its in-depth treatment, definition, or redefinition
is not so common among the various influential theorists. To end this chapter we
have selected three contemporary authors who do go into some depth on the term.
They are Peter L. Berger and Thomas Luckmann as representatives of constructiv-
ism, and Anthony Giddens as a member of the group of authors who initiated the
return to grand theory. In addition to these authors, we review the implicit rather
than the explicit socialization concept that can be found in two other apparently
influential (or at least relatively frequently cited) authors for academics writing on
the new sociology of childhood, J€ urgen Habermas and Pierre Bourdieu.
25.3.4 Social Construction of Reality
The social construction of reality, first published in 1966 and authored by Berger
and Luckmann, represents a synthesis of critical Marxism, symbolic interactionism,
and phenomenology schools, whose influence is clearly visible in their citations.
The issue of socialization is greatly important to these authors since it is related
with one of the pillars of their theoretical position, that of internalization. Internal-
ization is the third stage in a continuous dialectical process that starts with exter-
nalization (the human being has to externalize himself continuously through
activity; social order becomes a human product created over the course of this
externalization), which leads to objectivation (the process by which the external-
ized products of human activity attain the character of objectivity), and ends with
internalization (by way of which the objectivated social world is retrojected into
consciousness), which happens, precisely, during socialization. These three dialec-
tical moments share a fundamental relationship in social reality, each
corresponding to an essential characterization of the social world. Thus, according
to Berger and Luckmann’s well-known thesis, Society is a human product. Society
is an objective reality. Man is a social product (Berger and Luckmann 1978, p. 84).
Only through the transmission of the social world to a new generation, as occurs in
socialization, does the fundamental social dialectic appear in its totality.
To begin, we can say that these authors define socialization as the comprehen-
sive and coherent introduction of an individual to the objective world of a society,
or a particular sector of that world. The individual experiences an early form of
socialization during childhood (primary socialization), thereby becoming a member
of society (Berger and Luckmann 1978, p. 166). Internalization is the basis for
primary socialization, first for understanding others similar to the individual, and
second for the individual’s apprehension of the world as a meaningful and social
reality. Secondary socialization is any subsequent process that introduces already
socialized individuals to new sectors of the objective world. Primary socialization is
usually the most important stage, and all secondary socialization should resemble it
in terms of basic structure. Primary socialization involves more than purely cogni-
tive learning, but takes place in the context of a huge emotional burden.
Primary socialization cannot occur without a child’s identification with its
significant others, who mediate reality for all purposes. By means of that identifi-
cation with others, the child becomes able to identify himself. This is not
a unilateral mechanical process. It involves a dialectic between self-identification
and the identification that others make, between identity subjectively assumed and
that which is objectively attributed (Berger and Luckmann 1978, p. 167). For
Berger and Luckmann, even if the child may not be a passive spectator in the
process of socialization, it is adults who dictate the rules of the game. The child may
participate in this game with enthusiasm or reluctance, but unfortunately no other
game is available. This has an important corollary. As the child is not involved in
the choice of its significant others, he identifies with them almost automatically.
The child does not internalize the world of his significant others as one of many
possible worlds, he internalizes it as “the only existing and conceivable world”
(1978, p. 171).
It is clear that socialization inevitably involves some kind of biological frustra-
tion. This is manifested especially in primary socialization, by the resistance of
children to certain impositions for social molding. Nonetheless, socialization offers
the reward of a place in the social world that is apprehended as the significant reality
by means of the socialization process.
With an idea taken directly from Mead, Berger and Luckmann claim that
primary socialization creates in the child’s consciousness a progressive abstraction
from the roles and attitudes of specific others to roles and attitudes in general. This
abstraction of the roles and attitudes of significant others is called (as in Mead) the
generalized other (Berger and Luckmann 1978, p. 169), and so the individual
identifies not only with specific others, but with a generality of others, that is,
a society. When the generalized other has crystallized in consciousness,
a symmetrical relationship is established between objective and subjective reality.
Berger and Luckmann also acknowledge historical and cultural variations in the
forms of socialization programs, hence arguing that the specific internalized content
in primary socialization will vary from one society to another. It is mostly, they say,
776 L. Gaitán
language that needs to be internalized and, through that language, various motiva-
tional and interpretive schemes. These schemes provide the child with institution-
alized programs for everyday life, at the same time establishing the difference
between the child’s own identity and the identity of other children who play other
roles. Berger and Luckmann also believe that there is great variability in the
sociohistorical definition of the learning stages. These stages are socially defined,
establishing what is to be learned at each age. This means in turn a certain social
recognition of growth and biological differentiation. Finally, they say, the nature of
primary socialization is also affected by requirements regarding the amount of
knowledge that must be transmitted.
For Berger and Luckmann, the process of primary socialization ends when the
concept of the generalized other has been established in the individual’s con-
sciousness. However, this raises two new problems: how to maintain awareness of
internalized reality and how to achieve secondary socializations at a later stage in
the individual’s life. Although not expressly stated by the authors, it is apparent
that those individuals involved in secondary socialization processes are also
children. This is the logical conclusion of Berger and Luckmann’s discourse,
maintaining that the transition from primary to secondary socialization is accom-
panied by certain rituals in most societies, or when teachers are mentioned as
institutional officials with the formal task of transmitting specific knowledge.
As Berger and Luckmann affirm, consistency is required between initial and
novel internalizations, but there are also differences between the two. Biological
constraints become less important in the learning sequences. Most secondary
socialization can occur without the emotional identification of the child with their
significant others. While the child internalizes the world of his parents as “the”
world, Berger and Luckmann insist that some of the crises that occur after primary
socialization will have their roots in the recognition that the world of one’s parents
is not the only one that exists, but is in fact a world with a specific social location,
perhaps even with pejorative connotations. Secondary socialization is also much
less inevitable, that is, the possibility of choice is more likely. In summary, in the
stage of secondary socialization the family declines as agent of socialization.
Berger and Luckmann believe that socialization always occurs in the context of
a specific social structure. Both its content and its degree of “success” have
sociostructural conditions and consequences. Successful socialization means
establishing a high degree of symmetry between objective and subjective reality.
Conversely, “deficient socialization” is understood to be a function of the asym-
metry between objective and subjective reality. Deficient socialization may have
various causes, including different institutions or socializing agents and discrepan-
cies between primary and secondary or family and peer group socialization
processes, among others.
Interactionist influence is evident in Berger and Luckmann’s approach to social-
ization. However, it also may be observed that they are working on a scheme that
has similarities with that of Parsons. There is an identification between primary
socialization and early childhood. Furthermore, the “child” appears as a universal
category, at the service of the consistency (and construction) of a theory of social
construction of reality. However, we must also recognize notable differences from

the functionalist approach.
As a tributary of interactionism, Berger and Luckmann’s theory recognizes in
the child an ability to be an active subject in the process of socialization, although it
is admitted that it is not the child who runs the game, since he is unable to choose his
significant others or the means by which to circumvent their influence. Rather, by
the ties of affection established with these others, the child is strongly linked to and
identified with them. However, unlike Mead, the theory does not consider the child
as having a social nature practically from birth, maintaining instead that only after
having passed the stage of primary socialization does the child become a member of
society.
The existence of changing elements in socialization programs is also recognized,
these being attributed mainly to cultural factors, although they are attributed only in
passing to the existence of a class structure that entails different socialization
programs. When Berger and Luckmann provide examples of the secondary social-
ization of children, they seem to give them a role that is to some extent independent
of the exclusive influence of significant others. It can be inferred that this secondary
socialization happens when the child enters into contact with other agents of
socialization, or institutional mediators. In Berger and Luckmann’s theory, conflict
is also recognized, and the protagonists are the subjects in the process of socializa-
tion. This may be due to conflict between their spontaneous tendencies and the rules
that they must accept, or to discrepancies between primary and secondary social-
ization, or, finally, to the various opportunities they may encounter in the course of
such secondary socialization.
25.3.5 An Integrational Approach
The British sociologist Anthony Giddens is the author of an extensive body of work that
has covered many of the issues that most concerned and interested politicians, social
scientists, and the general public during the latter third of the last century, ranging from
political practice to globalization. However, it can be said that his main contribution to
sociological theory lay in his efforts to integrate structure and action through his theory
of structuration, which Giddens began to introduce during the 1970s but explained in its
fullest form in his book The Constitution of Society, published in 1984.
Giddens’ theory of structuration is the result of a rethinking of the fundamental
problems of sociological theory. The author formulates this theory as a conceptual
framework that serves to show that agents produce, reproduce, and transform
society through social practices (Andrade 1999). Thanks to contact between the
large and dense European tradition of social thought and the critical and renovating
antifunctionalism impulse of American sociology, Giddens was able to base his
structuration theory on three conceptual areas: a radical review of the constituent
approaches of sociological theory, a systematic critique of Parsons’ functionalism,
and the recovery and reprocessing of the analytical contributions of the various
“microsociological” American trends. The articulation of these three analytical
778 L. Gaitán
axes also rested on convergence with the hermeneutic tradition and the overcoming
of positivism from the new philosophy of science (Andrade 1999, p. 129). As
a result, Giddens’ theory is extremely eclectic, with the author summarizing its
essence when he states that the basic domain of study of the social sciences is
neither the experience of the individual actor nor the existence of any form of social
totality, but social practices ordered across time and space (Giddens 1984, p. 2). For
Giddens, action and structure are inextricably linked in any human activity or
practice.
The coincidence in time between the work of Giddens and the emergence of the
new sociology of childhood means one finds many points of agreement in their
theoretical assumptions. This is natural when one considers that both are influenced
by similar trends of thought and affected by the same events and social changes,
sharing as they do the same time frame and interpretation of social reality. Some-
thing similar happens with the vision of socialization that Giddens presents in his
handbook of sociology (Giddens 2000). This work contains aspects that explicitly
break with former interpretations of socialization, containing explanations that are
instead closer to the views outlined in the new sociology of childhood and its
implicit notion of socialization.
Giddens defines socialization as the process by which a defenseless creature
gradually becomes a person conscious of itself, knowledgeable and skilled in the
manifestations of the culture in which it was born. He considers that socialization is
not a type of “cultural programming” by which the child passively absorbs the
influences it encounters. Rather, from the moment of birth, the child has needs or
demands that affect the behavior of those responsible for its care, meaning it can be
said the baby is an active being from the beginning (Giddens 2000, p. 52). The birth
of a child affects the lives of those who are responsible for its upbringing. They
have a new learning experience, meaning socialization brings together different
generations. Giddens rejects the idea that socialization consists merely of
conforming to preset molds that society has prepared for us. On the contrary, he
thinks that socialization is also the origin of our own individuality and freedom. In
the course of socialization, each individual develops a sense of identity and the
ability to think and act independently.
Giddens adopts an evolutionary perspective to explain the early stages of child
development and believes that by so doing it is possible to better understand the
processes by which “the child becomes recognizable as ‘human’” (Giddens 2000,
p. 53). He thus begins with the initial development of the baby, about which he
states that most scholars believe that even newborns react in a selective manner
when facing their environment, in other words it can be said that all children are
born with the ability to make certain distinctions by means of perception and to
respond accordingly. Giddens then explains that, just as children respond selec-
tively to the environment, adults discriminate between patterns of child behavior,
assuming that they provide clues about what the child wants or needs. However, this
process involves deeply rooted cultural assumptions, a point Giddens illustrates by
referring to reactions of adults to babies crying or smiling, actions that are
interpreted according to the cultural norms of the society in question. Babies do
not have to learn to laugh, but they do have to learn when and where it is considered
appropriate to do so, according to those specific cultural patterns.
Giddens explains that the first months of a child’s life are also a learning period
for the mother. Mothers (and other caregivers, such as fathers or older children)
learn to receive the communication the baby transmits through its behavior and
respond in an appropriate manner. The baby will progressively be able to first
distinguish its mother (or other primary caregiver) from other people, then smile at
certain individuals (not indiscriminately), and finally develop attachment to its
mother or caregivers. For Giddens, the birth of love toward specific individuals
marks a fundamental threshold in socialization. The first relationship, usually
between mother and child, becomes something in which strong feelings are
invested, and from its base complex processes of social learning begin to develop.
The story of child development continues for Giddens with the formation of
social responses. The author believes that the relationship between the child, the
mother, and other caregivers changes toward the end of the first year of the baby’s
life. From the first year, games start to occupy much of the child’s life. In their
second and third years, children develop an increasing ability to understand the
interactions and emotions of other family members, so that when faced with
a disagreement, they will go to console whomever seems weaker or sadder.
Between the first year and the age of 4 or 5 is when the child learns discipline
and self-regulation. Among other things, this means learning to control physical
needs and address them appropriately. Around 5 years old the child has become
a practically autonomous being, almost independent in regard to the basic routines
of home life. The child is increasingly an individual, with a level of self-awareness,
which is one of the most distinctive characteristics of humans compared to other
animals. Although children do not begin to use concepts such as “I,” “me,” and
“you” until they are 2 years old or even later, they are slowly reaching an
understanding that others have an identity, an awareness, and needs different than
theirs (Giddens 2000, pp. 57–58).
In keeping with his developmental approach and with the overall purpose of his
work, Giddens devotes ample space to explaining, criticizing, and commenting on
the theories of child development, mainly those developed by the founder of
psychoanalysis, Sigmund Freud, and by George Herbert Mead and Jean Piaget.
He considers that the work of these authors has been and remains a widespread and
profound influence on any interpretation of the evolutionary process of human
beings in their early stages of life. For Giddens, the approaches vary according to
the theoretical perspective adopted, in part because the major theories of child
development emphasize different aspects of socialization. Thus, Freud focused
primarily on how children manage to control their anxieties and on the emotional
aspects of child development. Mead, meanwhile, mainly considers how children
learn to use the concepts of “I” and “me.” Finally, the best known works of Piaget
deal with the issue of cognition, that is, how children learn to think about them-
selves and their environment.
Giddens believes that despite the great differences between the views of Freud,
Mead, and Piaget, one may develop an understanding of child development by
780 L. Gaitán
connecting their theories. For example, the three authors agree that in the first
months of life, a baby does not properly understand the nature of the objects and
people around it or that it has a separate and independent identity. Giddens supports
Freud’s assertion that how the anxieties that occur in this early period are dealt with,
particularly with respect to interaction with the mother and father, is important to
the further development of the personality. Giddens believes that it is likely that
children learn to be self-conscious beings throughout the process, proposed by
Mead, of differentiation between “self” and “me.” However, he also agrees with
Piaget’s argument that children who have achieved a sense of the ego retain
egocentric ways of thinking. Giddens concludes that the development of children’s
autonomy probably carries more emotional difficulties than Mead and Piaget seem
to believe, and it is precisely at this point that Freud’s ideas are particularly
relevant. Being able to cope with early anxieties can determine the extent to
which the child has a successful trajectory over the subsequent cognitive stages
marked by Piaget (Giddens 2000, p. 65).
For Giddens, although the cultural learning process (socialization) is much more
intense during childhood, learning and adaptation continue throughout the life
cycle. The life cycle consists of a set of phases, both social and biological in nature,
that the human being passes through from childhood to old age. At all stages,
individuals are influenced by the cultural and material circumstances of the society
in which they live, and that is why individual development needs to be understood
within a broader social context. From this perspective, Giddens describes the
meaning of childhood and adolescence as the first stages of the human life cycle.
In his conception, childhood is the time between leaving the cradle and beginning
adolescence. He appeals to the famous work of Philippe Ariès (Centuries of
Childhood) in order to reason that the concept of childhood, like so many aspects
of our social life today, did not emerge until the last two or three centuries. He adds
that because of the length of the period that we now consider to be “childhood,”
modern societies are somehow more “child-centered” than traditional ones. Both
having children and childhood itself have become more distinct phases than was the
case in traditional communities. He notes, however, that this does not mean that the
children have a better deal or are in better conditions; it also means that the position
of children in society is being eroded as a result of changes taking place in modern
society, noting almost in passing that the fast growth of children means the
distinctiveness of childhood is disappearing (Giddens 2000, p. 68).
With respect to the adolescence life stage, Giddens points out that this is also
a relatively recent concept. Although the biological changes of puberty are sup-
posed to be universal, cultural components create significant differences in the
manner in which the transition to adulthood takes place. Giddens believes that for
adolescents living in traditional societies, this process is usually simpler than for
adolescents in modern societies, since the latter have to “unlearn” being children,
find a “middle way” between childhood and maturity, and grow in a society subject
to continuous change.
In short, we can say that Anthony Giddens does not raise any specific theory of
socialization but rather describes it using the texts or research results of other
authors. However, from his selection and criticism of these works, it is possible to
form an idea of his own concept of socialization, which appears to be an interactive
process (interactional) in which the child has an active role from the very moment
of birth. Such a process is also strongly influenced by prevailing cultural practices
in each particular society and varies historically.
25.3.6 Socialization and Communicative Action
J€urgen Habermas is considered a follower of critical theory, represented in its day

by sociologists of the Frankfurt School. Habermas’ comments on socialization are
scattered throughout his writings, from the earliest to the intermediate and latest.
While Habermas has never formulated a theory of socialization, he has used the
concept from various perspectives and in relation to various problems. As noted
by Borman (2011), from his early interest in the protest potential of the youth
movements to his most recent interest in the development of moral consciousness
and ego identity, a certain developmental conception of socialization has come to
be a crucial element of Habermas’ critical theory. In this sense, Habermas is no
different from other prominent sociological theorists, such as those on whom we
comment in this chapter, in the sense that he shares a point of view that ignores the
active role (potential or actual) of children in the socialization process. Habermas
focuses on the socializing institution (mainly family) at the expense of child
subjects in his review and critique of the theory of action in Parsons (to whose
work Habermas assigns a benchmark value due to its level of abstraction on both
a theoretical and a systematic scale) and in the rest of his most characteristic
central work in which he developed his theory of communicative action
(Habermas 1987).
In this famed theory, Habermas proposes a model to analyze society as two
forms of rationality that are simultaneously in play: substantive rationality of the
lifeworld and formal rationality of the system. The lifeworld represents an internal
perspective, i.e., the point of view of the subjects who act in society, while the
system represents the external perspective, which includes the society from the
perspective of the observer. For Habermas the lifeworld and communicative action
are complementary concepts. What is more, communicative action can be consid-
ered as occurring within the lifeworld. Habermas considers that the lifeworld has
three functions that are critical to sustaining societies. These functions are embed-
ded in the three communicative aspects of speech-acts: first, the functional aspect of
understanding, maintaining tradition and serving to renew cultural knowledge;
second, the coordination of aspect action, serving social integration and creation
of solidarity; and finally, the aspect of socialization, serving the formation of
personal identities. These three aspects correspond to the three structural compo-
nents of society, that is, culture, society, and personality. In this context, Habermas
explains that socialization of members of a lifeworld ensures that new situations
that occur in the dimension of historical time are connected with the existing state
of the world, that is, it ensures that subsequent generations acquire generalized
782 L. Gaitán
skills of action and guarantees that individual lives will be in tune with collective
ways of life. In this manner, interactive capacities and personal lifestyles are
measured by the individual’s capacity to take responsibility for his actions
(Habermas 1982, pp. 200–201).
From Habermas’ point of view, the lifeworld and the system evolve toward
greater rationalization. However, this rationalization takes different forms in each
of these areas and that difference constitutes the basis for the colonization of the
lifeworld by part of the system. Habermas’ perspective is that today we see
a growing divergence between lifeworld and system; they have been “decoupled.”
This decoupling, which Habermas identifies as characteristic of modernity, also
affects the family as a socializing institution in relation to its younger (specifically
adolescent) members. In fact, the author’s concern with respect to changes in the
socialization process within families is made clear in the final chapter of his book,
Theory of Communicative Action, in which he reviews the complex issues that
occupied the focus of the first critical theory with the stated aim of showing how
some of these concerns can be reviewed today. According to Habermas (1987,
p. 537), the first critical theory considered that subsumption of socialized individ-
uals under the dominant pattern of social controls had to be studied elsewhere: in
the family, which as an agent of socialization prepares subjects for the requirements
of the occupational system, and also in the political-cultural space, where mass
culture orients toward obedience. Thus, followers of the first critical theory search
for “structural change of the bourgeois family,” which may involve the weakening
of parental authority and the presence of subjects undergoing socializing experi-
ences outside the context of family.
In his rereading of socialization in light of the events that characterize society
decades later, Habermas points out that in the previous model, the family was seen
as the agency through which systemic imperatives interfered in the destinies of
impulses, but their internal communication structure was not taken seriously.
Habermas believes that empirical indicators now suggest a fragmentation of the
nuclear family, meaning that socialization processes are met through deinstitu-
tionalized consensual action (Habermas 1987, p. 548). A polarization between
communicatively structured and formally organized domains of action can be
observed in families and their environments, placing socialization processes
under different conditions and exposing them to a different kind of risk. Commu-
nication structures within the family represent more “demanding” and at the same
time more “vulnerable” socialization conditions. Thus, in the case of adolescence,
problems of family separation and formation of self-identity turn youth develop-
ment in modern societies into a critical test of the ability of a generation to connect
with the subsequent one. But if the conditions of family socialization are not
synchronized with those of membership organizations that the child will one day
have to satisfy, the problems to be resolved in adolescence will become increas-
ingly intractable for a growing number of young adults. A symptom of this,
according to Habermas, is the social and even political importance of cultures of
protest and youth disenchantment.
This change of situation cannot be addressed with the old theoretical procedures.
For Habermas, it is the socializing interaction that must constitute the benchmark
for analysis of ego development (Habermas 1987, p. 550). In this sense, he
considers that the communicative action theory provides a framework for
reformulating the id, ego, and superego structural model. Habermas hence con-
cludes that the theory of impulses can be replaced by a theory of socialization that
links Freud with Mead, puts the structures of subjectivity in their rightful place, and
replaces the instinctual destinies hypothesis with a hypothesis concerning the
history of interaction and identity formation.
Habermas’ work is too complex to try to trace the ultimate meaning of his
thinking about the role of socialization in the context of this short essay. However,
we believe that this task would be worth carrying out in more detail, from the
perspective of a sociology of childhood that has its main supporting points in the
historical and structural character of childhood and in the active, not passive, role of
children in all life processes. We have emphasized two initial clues from Habermas’
work to allow this analysis: first, it is not possible to address new phenomena with
old theoretical tools (nor, we might add, merely with the criticism of old theories),
and the second relates to the issue of “socializing interaction,” which could permit
the analysis of the child as a subject in its own right.
25.3.7 Focusing on Habitus, Capital, and Field, from the Perspective

of Childhood
We now continue with the work of the French sociologist Pierre Bourdieu,
recognized as one of the most imaginative and original postwar thinkers. The
conceptual arsenal of this author has unquestionably become one of the most
popular in current global sociology. His style of work has been to continuously
build a system of explanatory concepts regarding society that he himself then
forcefully applies to different fields: philosophy, art, consumption, male domina-
tion, economic discourse, and so on (Alonso 2002, p. 9). Despite the breadth and
complexity of his work, it cannot be said with accuracy that Bourdieu has
dedicated himself specifically to either the theory of socialization or the sociali-
zation of children. However, reading Bourdieu from the perspective of childhood
can be generally rewarding and undoubtedly useful in analyzing the social space
of childhood as well as the situations and lives of children. Especially significant
for this purpose are the three central concepts of Bourdieu’s work – habitus,
capital, and field – making it prudent to summarize the essence of these three
concepts.
Bourdieu defines habitus as a system of lasting and transferable dispositions,
structured structures predisposed to function as structuring structures, that is, as
principles that generate and organize practices and representations that can be
objectively adapted to their target without the actor consciously assuming any
purpose or aim or requiring express domination of the operations necessary to
784 L. Gaitán
achieve them, being objectively “regulated” and “regular” without being at all
the product of obedience to certain rules, and, for all this, collectively orches-
trated, without being the product of the organizing action of a conductor
(Bourdieu 2007, p. 86).
According to Giménez (1999, pp. 11–12), Bourdieu presents the genesis of habitus
as a process of inculcation of an arbitrary culture and as an incorporation of certain
conditions of existence. This suggests two ways of generating the habitus: inculcation
and incorporation. Inculcation is a pedagogical action performed within an institu-
tional space (family or school) by specialized agents, with authority to delegate using
arbitrary rules and disciplinary techniques. Incorporation, however, refers to the idea
of an internalization by the subjects of the regularities enrolled in their conditions of
existence. Bourdieu tends to favor one or the other of these perspectives in his
presentations of this genetic process, but he always insists on reciprocity. Furthermore,
in the formation of primary habitus within family education, the effect of the ongoing
inculcation of parental education also integrates previous conditions of existence
incorporated during the course of the parents’ lives. Conversely, experience is
acquired by confronting living conditions already informed by a system of objectified
and institutionalized meanings. Stimuli are presented as positive or negative because
the world of experience is already prestructured from a symbolic order. What
Bourdieu posits is a dialectic articulation between incorporation and inculcation,
between the institutional and the social world experience.
The concept of field is inseparable from that of habitus, as it is from that of
capital. While habitus is the result of the incorporation of social structures by means
of “internalizing the externality,” field would be the product of “exteriorization of
interiority,” that is, institutional materializations of a system of habitus developed
in a previous phase of the sociohistorical process. In a strict sense, field is defined –
like all social space – as a network or configuration of objective relations between
different positions, socially defined and largely independent of the physical exis-
tence of agents who occupy it (Bourdieu 1992, p. 72). It is therefore a sphere of
social life that has progressively become autonomous through history based around
certain kinds of social relations, with interests and resources of its own, different
from other fields.
According to Bourdieu, the type of resource (or the particular combination of
types of resource) that occurs and circulates within each field determines its
specificity. Despite their apparent diversity, these resources can be grouped into
three main categories: (1) resources of economic nature (where money plays
a preeminent role as a universal equivalent), (2) cultural resources (among which
school and university diplomas have become increasingly important), and (3) social
resources, consisting of the ability to mobilize, to one’s own benefit, extensive
social networks of greater or lesser reach, deriving from membership of different
groups or “clientele.” These resources are respectively named economic capital,
cultural capital, and social capital. Bourdieu also introduces a fourth kind of capital:
symbolic capital. It consists of certain impalpable, ineffable, and quasicharismatic
properties that seem inherent in the very nature of the agent. Such properties are, for
example, authority, prestige, reputation, credit, fame, notoriety, honorability, talent,
gift, taste, and intelligence. According to Bourdieu, symbolic capital understood in

this manner would be economic or cultural capital as recognized by others
(Giménez 1999, p. 15).
The fundamental analogy of the field would then be that of a market, but not
a horizontal market with conditions of perfect competition. In this case, the market
would be hierarchical, where different proportions of any type of capital guarantee
different social positions. But here lies the great contribution of Bourdieu in his
attempt to formulate a kind of generalized political economy: capital does not
merely derive from economic reason, and markets do not exist merely for material
goods, they also exist for all kinds of symbolic goods. Therefore, we find all the
aforementioned forms of capital in the market: economic (material), cultural (or
sets of skills produced by education systems), social (essentially the set of relation-
ships and networks of relationships possessed by an individual or group that can be
mobilized on their behalf), and symbolic (or sets of rituals, symbolic goods, honor,
and recognition conferring authority and generating social benefits and positive
appreciation) (Alonso 2002, p. 20).
Bourdieu argues that economic capital has a decisive and preponderant weight
among these forms, as witnessed throughout history. Moreover, equity in
a determined field is distributed unevenly, usually among the agents according to
the position they occupy. What we see in reality is a specific structure of capital
distribution which is variably concentrated or dispersed depending on the history of
the field under consideration and, therefore, according to the evolution of the
struggle to appropriate capital. From here, one can understand the relationship
between capital and power. The balance of power resulting from an unequal
distribution of capital is what defines the dominant and dominated positions within
a field and, therefore, the ability to exercise power and influence over others. In
other words, the mere fact of having economic and cultural assets is a source of
power over those who have less or none of the same assets. Finally, it can be noted
that even if relatively autonomous, fields always function against the background of
the social class structure, which in a way functions as the “field of fields.”
Whether considering the genesis of habitus, as in the formation of primary
habitus or in relation to the results of differences in cultural or social capital related
to class position that give rise to different positions of children as subjects in school
or in life, we can see that the theoretical contributions of Bourdieu impact on our
object of study. As Madelaine Leonard says:
While Bourdieu can be criticized for his failure to fully acknowledge use value and
childhood in his analysis, his concepts of agency, habitus, power and competence combined
with the insights provided by the new sociology of childhood could provide a framework
for potent understanding of the significance of social capital in the everyday lives of
children and its impact on childhood and adulthood. (Leonard 2005, p. 620)
In fact we can observe that it is not uncommon to find the use of these concepts
as a conceptual framework for the analysis and interpretation of certain aspects of
the lives of children in the literature of the new childhood studies (see, e.g., Morrow
1999, 2001).
786 L. Gaitán
25.4 Basis for a Redefinition of the Socialization Process in the

New Sociology of Childhood
As noted in the Introduction, since its inception the new sociology of childhood has had
a more empirical than a theoretical development. However, this should not be under-
stood as implying a lack of theoretical formulations, or a lack of interest in theory as
a foundation for research practice. In fact, one of the earliest and most widespread texts
of the current sociological approach to childhood is specifically entitled Theorizing
Childhood (James et al. 1999). This book naturally had the stated aim of theorizing on
the field of the study of childhood, taking into consideration the variety of previously
utilized approaches. It hence begins by reviewing the theoretical and explanatory
models of childhood that the authors consider pre-sociological, which are those that
have been part of the sociological tradition. At the same time, these have served to
inform contemporary scientific analysis and also the understanding of what constitutes
common sense in relation to children. After the models that the authors of the
aforementioned text describe as transitional (including the developmental and func-
tionalist socialization models), they begin to articulate the four ways that show the
awakening of the social theory of childhood, according to which the child becomes
“sociologically constituted.” These approaches are denominated “socially constructed
child,” “tribal child,” “minority group child,” and “social structural child.”
A little later, Mayall (2002) and Alanen (2003) reduced these four typologies to
three types. The first, “sociology of children,” takes as its starting point the idea that
children deserve to be studied for themselves and from their own perspectives. The
child is seen as an agent engaged in the daily construction of knowledge and
experience, the typology attaching particular importance to the views of children
themselves. The second is the “deconstructive sociology of childhood.” Here,
deconstruction is considered necessary to remove the discursive power of conven-
tional ideas of childhood in society. The third perspective is that of the “structural
sociology of childhood,” within which childhood is seen as a permanent feature and
part of the social structure of modern societies, as well as a “structure” in itself,
comparable and similar, for example, to class or gender.
From our point of view (Gaitán 2006a, b), the first of the above types mentioned
by Alanen and Mayall is more practical than theoretical, as in reality the umbrella
of “sociology of children” covers the various studies, undertaken mainly in Britain,
that involve research focusing on the position and views of children. However, we
can consider that the proposal developed by Mayall of a relational theory of
childhood is a variant of this approach, while already pointing to some theorizing
proposal that will gradually become more present in the new sociology of child-
hood. Mayall’s proposal also includes some influence of the structural approach,
but also introduces two aspects that other authors also emphasize: children’s
ongoing relationships with their social environment and the relationship between
theory of age and gender theory.
Indeed, there are other authors who have attempted a theoretical formulation of
the sociology of childhood, seeking to give coherence to the common premises and
identify the link between alternative orientations already mentioned (basically
trying to connect the micro- to the macrodimension). Those authors also seek to
apply the generally available great social theories to the study of childhood. With
reference to American sociology, Shanahan (2007) comments that the basic scheme
is simpler than the European one as it reduces theories on childhood to only two
broad categories: (1) childhood as a social construction created and affected by
contextual factors (macroanalysis) and (2) social construction created in part by
children and thus never fully understood without studying children themselves
(microanalysis).
In any case, despite the diversity, the majority of aforementioned sociological
approaches share a number of common features, including the following: they are
more globally than individually oriented; they are aimed more at studying the
typical conditions that are normal and common for most children than the situations
of children who are particularly arduous or conflictive; they maintain a skeptical
and critical position toward conventional ideas of socialization and developmental
theory; and they are connected to changing patterns over time, with respect to being
a child in the context of relationships between children and adults, and in the way in
which modernization affects each party.
Meanwhile, distinctions are found in the different emphasis that each theory
places on the role of children as actors and coconstructors of childhood, or on
childhood as a permanent and stable component of the social structure. This is
a difference that links to the debate between structure and agency that was long
considered the basic issue of modern social theory and involves the selection and
application of different methodological tools. While some sociologists believe that,
in general, the diversity of approaches is positive because a theoretical and meth-
odological pluralism corresponds to the pluralism of social reality (Beltrán 1991),
within the sociology of childhood there are also authors who think that one of the
main challenges for childhood researchers today is to find ways to begin to truly
integrate these different approaches. This is the case for James (2010), who pro-
poses a model to reconceptualize studies of childhood which links the different
positions, making them necessary and interdependent components of the same field.
Yet the issue of the future of what used to be called the new sociology of
childhood, or current multidisciplinary studies of childhood, is not limited to
solving the problem of integrating structure and action. There is also the question
of how to integrate the sociology of childhood into general sociology and social
theory. It is at this point that the main issue driving this chapter, i.e., the socializa-
tion of children, returns to the fore. This is because socialization remains a key
concept in general sociology, while socialization of children is at the same time
a field of social construction of childhood and thus should be a central theme in
studies of childhood, as noted by Honig (2011).
At this point one wonders on what basis the sociology of childhood might rely
in order to formulate a concept of socialization that could integrate socialization
into the basic scheme of its theoretical model, by picking the best and most
favorable for children from both the older and the modern theories of socializa-
tion. Should we choose one of the approaches described above? Would the prior
integration of models, as advocated by James, be necessary? Is there already
788 L. Gaitán
some concept that serves the purpose of socialization? From our point of view,
the answer is yes to the last question. A concept does exist that for various reasons
has become a key element in the sociology of childhood, especially in structural
and relational approaches. This concept is generation. One of the reasons gener-
ation has become a key element is that it allows the empirical linking of children
with childhood. Another reason is that the notion of generation is relational in the
sense that it allows the establishment of comparisons, continuities, and breaks
from one generation to another. Moreover, the theory of generations serves as the
basis for a sociology of age, within which also fit a sociology of youth and
a sociology of aging.
The word generation is conventionally used in everyday language with different
meanings; it is also frequently used with descriptive purposes in social research.
Thus, the fact that generations exist and that children are a generational group are
ideas that have probably been more implicit than explicit in the studies undertaken
in the name of the new sociology of childhood. However, only a few years after the
appearance of the first texts referring to the new sociology of childhood, the subject
of generations has received some specific treatment among scholars in the field.
A book published in 2003 (Mayall and Zeiher 2003) addressed the debate on the
different notions of generation and the meaning of the term in the context of the new
social studies of childhood. The book features a revival of Mannheim’s ideas
regarding what he called “the problem of generations.” Moreover, it rethinks the
idea of generation as a system of relationships between adults and children and
seeks to establish the idea of a generational order similar to the one that gives rise to
the class system or gender system, both used by sociologists to talk about social
structure. Finally, the concept of generation in its anthropological dimension is
taken into account along with the identity formation of children as a sociocultural
generation.
In every case, except in the context of the structural approach (which includes
the simultaneous presence of three generational groups in the shape of children,
adults, and senior citizens), the perspective of the new sociology of childhood
seems to be restricted to a dualistic approach (adult-children). In this manner, the
opportunity is missed to see long cycles of three or more generations in depth,
following one another, transmitting or sharing experiences with each other, or
confronting or allying at a given moment. Also lost is the ability to connect with
other recent sociologies based on population groups identified according to age, as
stated. However, if one accepts that the social phenomenon of childhood is mainly
a generational phenomenon, it is necessary to understand the specific generational
structures within which children live today and those generated in their childhoods.
This calls for more attention, more studies, and more effective conceptual and
methodological tools.
In terms of methodology, generational analysis proves to be a useful tool in the
study of childhood as it allows the study of the position of children compared with
other generations, offers an account of the changes that have been experienced over
time, or reveals the differences that occur within a given generation of children
(Gaitán 2006a). This can be seen in Fig. 25.1, which represents the succession of
Historic time
Social situation
Generation F
Historic time Generation E

Social situation
Generation D
Generation C
Generation B
Generation A
Analysis of
a generation
Comparison between generations
Relationship between generations
Fig. 25.1 Keys for generational analysis
generations. In each historical or social situation, it is considered that several

generations coincide. In the figure, the overlapping generations are simplified into
three, corresponding to a child, adult, and elderly life cycle. Also reflected in the
chart are the dimensions that may be considered in the analysis. This would be
composed of at least the following: (a) analysis of the internal characteristics of
a generation; (b) comparison between the characteristics of the current generation
with a generation of the same age but from an earlier stage, historical moment, or
situation; and (c) relationship between the generations, at the micro- or macrolevel.
In this framework, socialization can be understood as a process of interaction
between children and adults (and older adults) who share the same historical time
period. in this context, socialization means contact and exchange between things
already experienced (from the side of adults) and things being experienced (by
children who are amassing new individual identities), but it also involves new
forms of social relations. In this way there are changes in institutions (family,
school, State) due to the action of the actors, and changes in the role of the “child,”
increasingly represented by different children. At the same time, and in line with the
proposal of Corsaro, we are referring to the socialization that children themselves
are developing in relationships with their peers and with significant adults via
790 L. Gaitán
interpretive reproduction. These processes are what endow a particular generation

of children with its particular character, which in turn can be compared to other
child generations, contemporaneous or historical. Finally, the succession of gener-
ations can explain the characteristics of permanence and change that can be
observed in any present or past child generation.
While it is true that a generational approach is inherently relational because it
must somehow concern relationships between generations, a specifically rela-
tional theory also has sufficient elements to become the necessary foothold to
articulate the sociology of childhood, and to include therein the issue of sociali-
zation. In a recent work, Alanen (2012) proposes a turn to relationality, bringing
to mind a fragment of the work of Jenks (1982), where the British sociologist
argues that the relationship between the child and the adult is a necessity in theory
and in common sense. This is because the children cannot be imagined except in
relation to a conception of the adult. Interestingly, though, it also becomes
impossible to produce a well-defined sense of the adult and his society without
first positing the child.
Having completed the review of the background, emergence, and different
trends in the sociology of childhood, Alanen proposes a “structural-relational
sociology of childhood” that would connect with a “relational turn” in the social
sciences, such as that defended by Donati (2010) and Crossley (2011), as well as be
inspired by relational sociology as Pierre Bourdieu. The suggested structural-
relational sociology appears to be connected with the concept and idea of genera-
tion. So Alanen writes that “childhood is a position (a social space) within a socially
generated generational structure,” and that the research focus of this sociology
would be “the generational (relational) within which practices co-construct chil-
dren: themselves as ‘children’ and their relational counterparts as ‘parents’,
‘teachers’. . .”.
25.5 Summary
This chapter is only an initial approach to the subject of socialization and its
relationship with social studies of childhood in general and with the sociology of
childhood in particular. Upon investigation of this area, the importance of social-
ization in advancing the development and consolidation of a sociology of childhood
that operates as an independent sociological subdiscipline (but remains connected
to the mainstream of contemporary sociology) has become ever clearer. Moreover,
reconceptualizing socialization in a manner properly linking it to the aims and
objectives it shares with the new social studies of childhood would prove useful for
research in various fields of knowledge related to childhood and the lives of
children. We consequently advocate that the path begun in this chapter be continued
in the future within the context of social studies of childhood.
While we began by referring to the criticism of the conventional theory of
socialization, a criticism that has come to be almost a hallmark of the new sociology
of childhood, we then endeavored to present (within the limits dictated by the need
for brevity in a work of this nature) the most significant of the theories of social-
ization produced both before and after the functionalist paradigm.
We have found that while most theories of socialization focus on the processes
that take place within a specific explanation of reality or social order rather than on
children, they do include sufficient elements to make it is possible to successfully
connect them to the basic assumptions that underpin the current sociology of
childhood. Within this framework, we have shown that the concepts of generation
and intergenerational relations can provide a solid foundation for the progress of
both the sociology of childhood and its connection with general sociological theory.
It must however be acknowledged that in the task of recovering the concept of
socialization, the sociology of childhood struggles to reconcile the social with the
biological and psychological as interlocking factors that shape both the condition of
being a child and the constructed reality of childhood.
The ideas discussed here relate to child well-being in several respects. First, they
attempt to make a particular contribution to this multidisciplinary field of study.
Furthermore, they may represent a further step along the way toward a “conceptual
emancipation of children,” as stated by Qvortrup some years ago. The aim is to
change the position of the child in the theory of socialization, from merely instru-
mental to active, reflecting the real role of children as they interact with others and
contribute to the social construction of both reality and childhood.
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Section IV
Children’s Activities and Well-Being
Schooling and Children’s Subjective
Well-Being 26
E. Scott Huebner, Kimberly J. Hills, Xu Jiang, Rachel F. Long,
Ryan Kelly, and Michael D. Lyons
The study of positive well-being of children and adolescents in general is

a relatively recent phenomenon. Although there is a long history of attention to
poor mental health and behavior problems (e.g., conduct disorders, depression) and
schooling (see Roeser et al. 1998), attention to indicators, determinants, and
consequences of positive well-being has lagged behind. In particular, serious
research efforts focused on positive subjective well-being (SWB) among children
and youth have only recently been undertaken (Huebner 2004). In contrast to
models of mental illness represented by the presence of psychopathological symp-
toms (e.g., aggressive behavior, chronic negative emotions), models of SWB
attempt to differentiate the presence of more optimal levels of functioning. Diener
(1984) developed a widely used tripartite model of SWB for adults, which has been
extended downward to children of ages 8–18 (Huebner 1991a; Huebner and Dew
1996). The model includes three major components: positive affect, negative affect,
and life satisfaction. Positive affect refers to the experience of frequent positive
emotions, such as joy or interest, while negative affect refers to the infrequent
experience of negative emotions, such as anger or sadness. Life satisfaction gener-
ally refers to an individual’s judgment of the positivity of her or his life as a whole
(i.e., global life satisfaction) or with specific life domains (e.g., school or family
satisfaction). Life satisfaction judgments are usually designed so that an individual
can report a broad array of judgments ranging from very negative (e.g., “terrible”)
through neutral and higher levels of satisfaction (e.g., “pleased” or “delighted”).
Thus, persons who have high SWB are ones who, over time, experience frequent
positive emotions and infrequent negative emotions as well as report positive levels
of satisfaction with their lives.
E.S. Huebner (*) • K.J. Hills • X. Jiang • R.F. Long •

R. Kelly • M.D. Lyons
Department of Psychology, University of South Carolina, Columbia, SC, USA
e-mail: [email protected]; [email protected]; [email protected];
[email protected]; [email protected]; [email protected]

798 E.S. Huebner et al.
In some nations, such as the United States, education as a discipline pays little
attention to monitoring, understanding, or promoting positive SWB in children
(Noddings 2003). Such neglect is consistent with several factors in educational
practices and policies. In an era of increasing globalization and economic compet-
itiveness, one major factor has likely been the increased demand for accountability
in schools related to learning basic academic skills, such as the functional reading
and mathematics skills required for successful employment. Consistent with the
advent of the No Child Left Behind Act (2002), accountability efforts in education
in the United States have focused primarily on measuring academic achievement as
the essential indicator of student and school success. Beyond interest in managing
behavior problems in the classroom, relatively little emphasis has been placed on
assessing or cultivating positive social-emotional well-being in students or in
school settings (Cohen 2006; Roeser 2001). Such an agenda illuminates the current
value in some societies on the role of schooling as preparation for future vocational
and economic success.
Another likely associated factor involves the disproportionate emphasis on future
outcomes associated with schooling (i.e., “well becoming”) to the relative neglect of
interest in the current “well-being” of children. Several authors (e.g., Ben-Arieh
2008; Qvortrup 1999) have argued persuasively that the present well-being of
children is important in its own right. Although not questioning the importance of
devoting attention to the promotion of children’s positive futures, these authors also
argue that children should not be reduced solely to “human becomings.” Compared to
adulthood, childhood is a unique psychosocial time period, with different experi-
ences, opportunities, expectations, and identities. “Too much focus on the future
might, for example, mean that children are drilled for very long hours in school,
leaving no time for socialization and fun in the present” (Burton and Phipps 2010).
Children who are unable to live up to adults’ academic expectations, such as teachers,
parents, or school administrators, may be particularly at risk for spending their entire
school day focused on remediating their problems and subsequently decreasing their
morale instead of allowing them at least some time to exercise their strengths and
pursue their interests, thereby enhancing their perceived self-efficacy and engage-
ment in school (Gordon and Crabtree 2006; Noddings 2003). Some scholars have
thus recommended that children’s caretakers, such as educators, must take into
account both children’s future opportunities and current life conditions in order to
conceptualize and promote healthy development in the most comprehensive fashion
(e.g., Ben-Arieh 2008).
In addition to a possible disproportionate emphasis on future outcomes, some
authors have noted that most schools’ goals, curriculum, and experiences are
developed by adults, with little or no input from students (Noddings 2003). Such
an adult-focused perspective may be limited in relation to understanding and
promoting children’s SWB, especially current well-being, since children’s perspec-
tives may differ from those of adults. For example, Ben-Arieh et al. (2009) found
discrepancies between the perceptions of elementary school teachers and students
on school safety. Specifically, they found that teachers perceived students to be
26 Schooling and Children’s Subjective Well-Being 799
safer at school than the students did. Because school safety is an important
contributor to children’s overall well-being, the authors cautioned that school pro-
fessionals who do not recognize the concerns of students may direct resources to
areas that are less critical to students’ needs.
A final major factor in students’ experiences of schooling in the United States is
the long-standing focus on student deficits in schools. Schools have historically
concentrated their efforts on providing relatively standardized curricula and stan-
dards for students, particularly in elementary schools. Student progress has been
measured against such standards, and efforts have been directed toward remediating
students’ deficits in cases where progress does not match expectations. The focus on
students’ problems has been so entrenched in American schools that Sarason (1997)
lamented that the modal teacher was unprepared to exploit opportunities to promote
wellness in students as opposed to remediating or preventing problems.
The relevance of SWB to the context of education may not be well understood
by school professionals. Although research on children’s positive SWB and school-
ing is relatively new (Casas in press; Huebner 2004), recent variable- and person-
centered research studies have supported the usefulness of including negative (e.g.,
measures of negative emotions and behavior) and positive indicators (e.g., positive
emotions, life satisfaction) in comprehensive assessments of students’ adaptation.
For example, a variable-centered study involving middle school students revealed
that the incorporation of measures of positive emotions yielded incremental validity
in predicting students’ school engagement and coping behaviors (Lewis et al.
2009). Another study investigated the benefits of differentiating adolescent students
with “very high” SWB from those with “average” and “low” levels of SWB
(Gilman and Huebner 2006). Relative to students with “average” levels of SWB,
the “very high” group of students demonstrated superior scores on a variety of
educationally relevant variables, such as hope, social stress, and attitudes toward
teachers.
Using a person-centered approach, Antaramian et al. (2010) revealed that four
groups of adolescent students could be identified using assessments that included
SWB measures along with measures of externalizing and internalizing behavior
problems. Most critical for this discussion, a group of students was identified that
showed low levels of problem behavior along with low levels of SWB. Although
this group of youth (referred to as vulnerable students) would have been missed in
traditional mental health screenings that focus on the presence of psychopatholog-
ical “symptoms,” they showed significantly lower levels of behavioral, cognitive,
and affective school engagement and grade point averages compared to the group of
students who showed low levels of problem behavior along with high SWB.
Furthermore, the vulnerable students differed remarkably little from a group of
“troubled” student who reported low SWB and high levels of behavior problems.
Similar results were obtained in a study by Suldo and Shaffer (2008). Taken
together, the person-centered research, as well as the variable-centered research,
provides strong support for the usefulness of understanding students’ SWB in the
context of schooling.
To date, the majority of studies of SWB in school-age students have focused

on identifying nonschool (e.g., family and self-related variables, such as
personality and cognitions) determinants and consequences of individual differences
in children’s SWB (Huebner et al. 2006). Few literature reviews have focused on SWB
and school-related variables (for an exception, see Suldo et al. 2006). This limited
focus continues despite Sarason’s (1997) caution that “wellness is always embedded in
an interpersonal, social-familial, and institutional context” (p. x).
The importance of school experiences in students’ lives is suggested in the
relationship between children’s school satisfaction and their satisfaction with their
lives as a whole. Numerous studies have demonstrated that children’s satisfaction
with their school experiences is a statistically significant but modest correlate
(r ¼ 0.30 range) of their global life satisfaction, relative to the stronger relationships
observed for satisfaction with their family, friends, self, and living environment. This
finding is particularly true among students in the United States compared to students
in other countries. For example, Park and Huebner (2005) found that school satis-
faction was much more strongly associated with overall life satisfaction among South
Korean students than American students. Furthermore, Ash and Huebner (1998) also
found that school satisfaction was a stronger predictor of global life satisfaction for
gifted students relative to their non-gifted counterparts. Interestingly, mean ratings of
students’ satisfaction with their lives overall and with specific domains, such as
schooling, show significant differences. For one example, in a study of more than
5,000 US high school students, Huebner et al. (2000) found that student ratings of
their school satisfaction were the lowest among six domains, including family, peers,
self, living environment, and overall (i.e., global) life satisfaction. Using the
delighted-terrible scale (Andrews and Withey 1976), almost 25 % of the students
reported some level of dissatisfaction with their school experiences, with almost 10 %
describing their experiences as “terrible.” Similar results were found in a study of
United States middle school students (Huebner et al. 2005). Given that school and life
satisfaction levels appear to decline as children move into the adolescent years
(Proctor et al. 2010; Suldo et al. 2006), the authors concluded that secondary level
schooling may represent a significant source of dissatisfaction for a substantial
number of adolescent students.
The overarching purpose of this chapter is thus to evaluate the extant research
base on school-age students’ SWB and school-related variables. In doing so, we
will first provide a brief overview of the status of the measurement of SWB in
children and adolescents. Second, we will summarize the literature on children’s
SWB, specifically focusing on school-related variables. Finally, we discuss impli-
cations of the research for future research and educational practice and policy.
26.1 Measurement of SWB in Children and Youth
Compared to research with adults, the development of valid SWB measures,

appropriate for the general population of children and youth, has lagged behind
(Gilman and Huebner 2000). Nevertheless, several psychologically sound measures
have been developed over the past several decades for children ages eight and
above (Casas in press; Gilman and Huebner 2000). Child and youth SWB measures
can be categorized as unidimensional or multidimensional in nature. Unidimen-
sional instruments focus on the measurement of satisfaction with life as a whole
whereas multidimensional instruments focus on satisfaction with specific life
domains (e.g., family, peers, school satisfaction).
A central assumption of SWB measures is that SWB represents subjective
experiences of the child. Thus, self-report methods have emerged as the primary
source of data. Concerns with self-reports have been expressed regarding the
possible effects of response styles (e.g., social desirability responding) and/or
contextual influences (e.g., mood, situations). Nevertheless, the existing research,
based mostly on research with adults, but some with children, has not supported the
concerns. SWB reports have shown reasonable internal consistency (Huebner
1991b, 1994), stability (Antaramian and Huebner 2009; Funk et al. 2006; Huebner
1991b), construct validity (Greenspoon and Saklofske 1997; Huebner 1994;
Huebner et al. 1998), predictive validity (Haranin et al. 2007), responsiveness to
planned interventions (e.g., Farrell et al. 2003; Froh et al. 2008; Gilman and
Handwerk 2001), and modest social desirability effects (Huebner 1991c; Gilligan
and Huebner 2007). Informant reports (e.g., parent) also correspond significantly
with child reports (Huebner et al. 2002; Gilligan and Huebner 2002). Overall, the
research to date suggests that several measures of child and adolescent SWB
reports, both global and multidimensional, show acceptable reliability and validity
for research purposes (Gilman and Huebner 2000; Huebner et al. 2006). Additional
research will be beneficial, especially research focused on the development of
measures with better standardization samples. Given the increasing interest in
SWB among children and adults, as evidenced by this handbook, it seems likely
that the development and refinement of measures of SWB, appropriate for children
and youth of ages eight and above, will continue. The availability of suitable
techniques for use with children below the age of eight represents a major gap in
the literature. The unique problems of communicating with very young children,
along with their limitations in cognitive development, will likely necessitate multi-
method, innovative alternatives to the reliance on self-report approaches.
26.2 Summary of Schooling and Children SWB Research
In this section, we review the existing research on the major school-related corre-
lates of children’s SWB. Consistent with the definition in the introduction, studies
of SWB include those addressing children’s positive emotions and global life
satisfaction and domain-based satisfaction, specifically satisfaction with school
experiences. Furthermore, we focus on key-presumed antecedents of SWB,
although we discuss consequences of individual differences in children’s SWB
where relevant.
The importance of the students’ overall school context is illustrated in a recent
study of 1,402 fourth to seventh grade students in 25 Canadian public schools
(Oberle et al. in press). Using multilevel modeling techniques, the findings revealed
differences in SWB related to schools. Although specific features of schools that
account for the differences were not revealed, the demonstration of the school-
student SWB linkage is crucial. Such findings highlight the notion that major
institutional settings in childhood (e.g., a child’s school) exert influences on
children’s SWB. Given that schools can be modified and improved, it is possible
that schools can be designed to provide substantial support for student SWB and
other aspects of positive development (Oberle et al. in press).
Suldo et al. (2006) identified specific school-related contextual and personal
factors in a comprehensive review of the existing literature related to children’s life
satisfaction. The school contextual factors included an overall school climate
factor, consisting of several components, such as student-teacher relationships,
parent involvement in schooling, peer relationships, sharing of resources, order
and discipline, and appearance of the school building. Student’s levels of academic
achievement (e.g., grades) and problem behaviors at school were also considered
contextual factors. The personal factors included students’ attachment to school and
personal academic beliefs. Additionally, in a study of the relationships between
school climate factors and individual differences in adolescents’ school satisfac-
tion, Zullig et al. (2011) identified similar key school climate factors: academic
support, positive student-teacher relationships, school connectedness, order and
discipline, social relationships, and academic satisfaction. Such studies provide
the framework for the review below.
26.3 School Climate
26.3.1 Perception of Safety
School-age children’s perceptions of school climate and school experiences relate

to their academic performance and behavior at school, as well as SWB, including
life satisfaction (Flanagan and Stout 2010; Milam et al. 2010; Suldo et al. 2008;
Wang 2009; Way and Robinson 2003). Particularly, students’ perceptions of physical
safety seem to be strongly related to SWB. If students do not feel safe at school
(e.g., they fear being threatened or injured by someone with a weapon, having
property stolen or damaged), their overall life satisfaction is lower (Valois et al.
2001). Not surprisingly, students who are physically bullied by their peers report
lower levels of overall life satisfaction (Martin and Huebner 2007).
The perception of a psychologically safe and supportive classroom environment
is also important to students’ satisfaction with school and life. One study of United
States urban children in low-income elementary schools showed that children’s
perception of their classroom as a psychologically safe environment directly
affected their school satisfaction (Baker 1998). Furthermore, a study of Dutch
and ethnic minority children of ages 10–12 also showed that a supportive academic
and social climate in the classroom was related positively to students’ levels of
satisfaction with school (Verkuyten and Thijs 2002). On the other hand, children
who are relationally victimized (e.g., teased by peers or purposefully excluded from
peer groups) experience significantly less frequent positive emotions in school and
lower global life satisfaction (Martin and Huebner 2007; Martin et al. 2008).
26.3.2 Teacher’s Organizational and Instructional Practices
Studies show that teachers’ organizational and instructional practices relate to their
students’ satisfaction with their schooling. Studies demonstrate that higher levels of
school satisfaction are associated with a high degree of clarity in classroom rules
and a predictable teacher behavior and classroom routines (Baker et al. 2003),
a task-oriented classroom ethos (Baker 1998), the provision of ample praise for
appropriate behaviors (Baker 1999), an emphasis on goals that promote future
academic aspirations (Malin and Linnakylae 2001), and the establishment of
curricular activities that promote choice and relevance (Karatzias et al. 2002). In
contrast, teachers who establish class structures that are overly controlling or give
more attention to misbehavior than good behavior can diminish students’ school
satisfaction (Baker 1999; Carey and Bourbon 2005).
26.3.3 Social Relationships in School
High quality student-teacher relationships appear crucial to high levels of student

satisfaction with both school experiences and life overall. In fact, there is evidence
suggesting that the perceived quality of student-teacher relationships is the stron-
gest predictor of school satisfaction, stronger than peer and parent relationships,
even among adolescents (DeSantis-King et al. 2006). Judgments of the quality of
the student-teacher relationship, from both teacher and child perspectives, relate to
student school satisfaction (Baker et al. 2002), with caring, supportive relationships
with a teacher related to school satisfaction by as early as third grade (Baker 1998).
Similarly, international studies provide supportive evidence for the key role of
positive student-teacher relationships. For instance, a study of 11-, 13-, and
15-year-old students in Finland, Latvia, Norway, and Slovakia revealed that the
most important predictors of students’ satisfaction with school were their feelings
that they were safe at school, treated fairly by others, and supported by their
teachers (Samdal et al. 1998).
Another important contributor to SWB is the quality of students’ relationships
with classmates and peers. Students whose peers have positive attitudes toward
school show more positive attitudes toward school themselves (Epstein 1981).
Students who report high life satisfaction report positive relationships with peers
(Dew and Huebner 1994; Ma and Huebner 2008; Man 1991). A key psychosocial
mechanism accounting for this association may be students’ levels of trust with
their peers (Nickerson and Nagle 2004). As one special peer relationship, the
support of close friendships has also been specifically implicated in the
determination of students’ school satisfaction (DeSantis-King et al. 2006). Also,

children with more friends and higher quality friendships score higher on measures
of global life satisfaction (Huebner and Alderman 1993).
On the other hand, students who experience negative interactions with their
peers report lower levels of school and life satisfaction (DeSantis-King et al. 2006;
Martin and Huebner 2007). For example, Davis (2007) documented that children
who perceive their classroom peers as hostile or antagonistic report lower levels of
school satisfaction. As noted previously, frequent peer victimization (i.e., threats of
bodily or social harm) and affiliation with peers who support delinquent behavior
are inversely associated with life satisfaction (Flouri and Buchanan 2002; Martin
and Huebner 2007). It should be underscored, though, that low levels of SWB are
not only associated with purposeful acts of physical or relational victimization.
Martin and Huebner (2007) found that students who received frequent prosocial
acts from peers were more likely to experience high global satisfaction whereas
students who received few prosocial acts were more likely to experience low global
life satisfaction. This finding suggests that students’ SWB might be influenced by
benign neglect as much as by active victimization by peers.
26.3.4 Parental Support and Involvement in Schooling
High quality relationships with parents also appear crucial to high levels of student
global life satisfaction (Dew and Huebner 1994; Edwards and Lopez 2006; Ma and
Huebner 2008; Nickerson and Nagle 2004; Young et al. 1995). In fact, satisfaction
with family life is a stronger correlate of global life satisfaction than satisfaction
with peers across studies of students in elementary through secondary school (Dew
and Huebner 1994; Terry and Huebner 1995). Key components of this relationship
appear to be the provision of appropriate emotional support, autonomy, and mon-
itoring of child behavior (Suldo and Huebner 2004). Within the framework of this
chapter, however, the parental behavior of most relevance is parental involvement
in schooling. Students’ perceptions that their parents care about and are involved in
their schooling appear crucial to students’ global life satisfaction. In the study by
Suldo et al. (2008), students’ perceptions of their parents’ involvement in schooling
were the second strongest predictor of students’ global life satisfaction, following
perceptions of student-teacher relationships. Important parental involvement activ-
ities include communication between home and school and parent visits to the
school.
Students’ perceptions of the quality of family life are also positively associated
with school satisfaction (Baker 1998; Huebner and McCullough 2000). Similar to
the findings for global life satisfaction, the quality of parent attachment was found
to be a greater predictor of school satisfaction than peer attachment in adolescents
in the United States, suggesting the continued importance of parents in their
children’s lives (Elmore and Huebner 2010).
Parental involvement appears to necessitate investment from both mothers and
fathers. Studies have shown that levels of maternal and paternal support are equally
important in predicting the global life satisfaction of adolescent males and females
(Vilhjalmsson 1994; Young et al. 1995). Specifically, the experience of psycholog-
ical closeness to fathers (Amato 1994) and the extent of father or father figure
involvement (Flouri and Buchanan 2002; Zimmerman et al. 1995) have been shown
to make unique contributions to youth life satisfaction.
The major conclusion that can be derived from the school climate literature is the
apparent importance of positive interpersonal relationships related to the school
setting. Furthermore, there appear to be multiple important relationships that
contribute to students’ SWB in school. In addition to the importance of positive
relationships with teachers, positive relationships with parents and peers also
represent critical sources of healthy student SWB. A strong sense of community
in schools appears critical to students’ SWB.
26.4 Student Factors
26.4.1 Academic Performance
Research on the relationship between SWB and academic performance (e.g., grade
point average (GPA), standardized academic achievement test scores) has been scant,
and the findings have been mixed. A few studies have examined the relationship
between academic achievement and life satisfaction among groups of students with
known differing academic abilities. For example, McCullough and Huebner (2003)
found similar levels of domain-specific and global life satisfaction among high school
students with learning disabilities and typically functioning students without learning
disabilities. These results suggest that although students with learning disabilities
display poorer academic functioning than their typically functioning peers, there is no
significant relationship between life satisfaction and academic achievement. Like-
wise, Huebner and Alderman (1993) found similar levels of global life satisfaction
among elementary school students at risk for academic failure when compared to
a matched control group of students not at risk for school failure, further suggesting
that academic achievement and life satisfaction are not significantly related.
In contrast, other studies of regular education students have revealed significant
associations between academic achievement and life satisfaction. For example,
Gilman and Huebner (2006) divided a sample of secondary level students in the
United States (N ¼ 490) into three groups: very high (top 20 %), average (middle
50 %), and very low global satisfaction (lowest 20 %). Adolescents who reported
very low global life satisfaction reported lower GPAs (M ¼ 3.01) than students with
average life satisfaction (M ¼ 3.42), who did not differ significantly from students
with very high life satisfaction (M ¼ 3.49). The zero-order correlation between life
satisfaction and self-reported GPA was 0.32 for the entire sample.
In a more recent study of 410 adolescent students in the United Kingdom,
Proctor et al. (2010) found that students who categorized themselves as “very
happy” on a life satisfaction measure reported significantly higher academic
performance than students who categorized themselves as “average happy.” Fur-

thermore, “average happy” students reported significantly higher academic perfor-
mance than students who characterized themselves as “very unhappy,” using the
self-report item of “I am doing well in school.” The zero-order correlation between
global life satisfaction and self-reported academic success for the complete sample
in this study was 0.39.
Studies of the relationship between SWB and actual grades and standardized test
scores have also been reported. The correlations between SWB measures and actual
GPA have ranged from approximately 0.14 (Huebner 1991b) to 0.21 (Antaramian
et al. 2010) to 0.29 (Cheng and Furnham 2002), suggesting modest to moderate
relationships at best. The former two studies involved United States students
whereas the latter study involved students from the United Kingdom, suggesting
the possibility of cultural differences.
Further support for the notion of cultural differences, and possibly developmen-
tal differences, can be found in study of the relationships between SWB and
standardized achievement test scores. For example, a study conducted by Chang
et al. (2003) yielded a significant relationship (r ¼ 0.38) between academic test
scores and life satisfaction among a sample of Chinese second graders (n ¼ 115),
but not among eighth graders (r ¼ 0.18). On the other hand, Bradley and Corwyn
(2004) conducted a study of adolescents of ages 10–15 from 310 families across
five sociocultural groups (European American, African-American, Chinese Amer-
ican, Mexican American, and Dominican American) in the United States. Within
this sample, there was no relationship (r ¼ 0.01) between level of life satisfaction
and scores on a standardized achievement test. Similarly, a study of United States
secondary students indicated correlations of 0.06, 0.10, and 0.12 between SWB
(a composite of global life satisfaction and positive and negative affect scores) and
standardized language, science, and math test scores (Antaramian et al. 2010).
A recent longitudinal investigation suggests further complexities in SWB-
academic performance linkages. In a study of 257 US fifth graders, Quinn and
Duckworth (2007) evaluated the directionality of the relationships between SWB
and academic performance. Results revealed that when controlling for IQ, SWB at
time 1 predicted increases in GPA at time 2 (partial r ¼ 0.24). GPA at time 1 also
predicted SWB at time 2, controlling for time 1 SWB (partial r ¼ 0.21).
These findings yielded a reciprocal relationship between SWB and academic
performance; children with higher levels of SWB earned higher grades on their
subsequent report cards, and higher report card grades were associated with higher
levels of SWB in the future. This study suggests that children who perform well in
school may do so in part because they are happy, and performing well academically
may make children happier (Quinn and Duckworth 2007).
26.4.2 Academic Perceptions
One of the most robust findings in the child and adolescent SWB literature is that
youth who hold more positive evaluations of their school-related competencies
(e.g., academic self-efficacy) also tend to report higher levels of global life satis-
faction (Huebner et al. 1999; Suldo and Huebner 2006). Academic self-efficacy is
one aspect of self-worth that refers to an individual’s belief that she or he can
successfully attain a specific academic goal (Bandura 1977; Schunk and Pajares
2002). Academic self-efficacy is grounded in self-efficacy theory (Bandura 1997)
which posits that people are likely to engage in activities to the extent that they
perceive themselves to be competent at those activities. Self-efficacy is
a multidimensional construct in that individuals can possess differing efficacy
beliefs for any number of activities in academic or other domains (Elias and Loomis
2002). With regard to education, the importance of general academic self-efficacy
is supported by the considerable body of research showing that academic self-
efficacy influences academic motivation, learning, and academic achievement as
well as SWB (Pajares 2009; Schunk 1995). For a specific example, Verkuyten and
Thijs (2002) found that academic self-efficacy was significantly related to educa-
tional performance (r ¼ 0.61) in a study of elementary students in the Netherlands.
A strong sense of academic self-efficacy in turn appears to contribute to SWB.
For example, Huebner et al. (1999) found significant relationships among middle
school students’ global life satisfaction and verbal self-concept (r ¼ 0.27), math-
ematical self-concept (r ¼ 0.30), and general school self-concept (r ¼ 0.37). In
a study of seventh grade students in Hong Kong, Leung and Bond (2004) found
a correlation of 0.52 between perceived academic competence and life satisfaction.
Such findings and others (see Suldo et al. 2006 for a review) suggest that children’s
SWB is more strongly related to students’ perceptions of their academic perfor-
mance than more objective indicators, such as GPA and standardized achievement
test scores.
26.4.3 Student Behavior
Numerous studies have shown an association between student behavior (in school
and out of school) and SWB. The relationship between global life satisfaction and
student behavior problems has been investigated most frequently (see Proctor et al.
2010 for a review). Problem behavior in students is typically characterized as
externalizing behavior (e.g., hyperactive, aggressive, and delinquent behavior) or
internalizing behavior (e.g., withdrawn, depressed, and anxious behaviors). For
example, Huebner and Alderman (1993) reported a correlation of 0.35 between
life satisfaction and a composite score for teacher-reported internalizing and exter-
nalizing behaviors specifically observed in school. With respect to general behavior
problems (not limited to the school hours), global life satisfaction has been shown
to correlate at 0.50 with self-reported internalizing behaviors and 0.35 with self-
reported externalizing behaviors (Haranin et al. 2007). Parent-rated quality of life
of students with severe emotional and behavioral problems has also been found to
be a significant correlate of externalizing and internalizing behaviors (State 2009).
As specific examples of more serious externalizing and internalizing behaviors,
significant associations have been demonstrated between global life satisfaction
and risk behaviors, including physical fighting, carrying a weapon at school

(MacDonald et al. 2005; Valois et al. 2001), and suicidal ideation and behavior
(Valois et al. 2004a). Problem behaviors have also been significantly correlated
with dissatisfaction with school, as well as dissatisfaction with life as a whole
(Elmore and Huebner 2010).
Significant relationships have been demonstrated between students’ SWB (i.e.,
life satisfaction) and other risk-taking behaviors, each of which has been linked
with academic outcomes (Hawkins 1997). These behaviors include alcohol and
drug use (Piko et al. 2005; Zullig et al. 2001) and sexual risk-taking behaviors
(Valois et al. 2002). For example, in a study of perceived life satisfaction and sexual
risk-taking behavior among 4,758 students in grades 9 through 12, Valois et al.
(2002) found a significant negative relationship between life satisfaction and
engaging in sexual intercourse, age of first intercourse, and number of sexual
partners. Furthermore, the nature of the risky behavior and the level of life satis-
faction was moderated by gender and ethnicity.
Relationships between SWB and “protective” factors have also been explored.
Engaging in physical activity has been positively associated with global life
satisfaction in students. For example, life satisfaction has been positively related
to strenuous activities in Icelandic and Danish students (Holstein et al. 1990;
Vilhjalmsson and Thorlindsson 1992). In relation to the amount of exercise, one
study found that adolescents’ global life satisfaction was negatively associated with
not exercising at least 20 min in a given week (Valois et al. 2004b). Such findings
may relate to the presence (vs. absence) of strong health education programs in
schools.
Participation in structured extracurricular activities also appears to be
a protective factor related to higher global life satisfaction among adolescents
(Gilman 2001). Perhaps related to physical and social factors noted above, research
has highlighted the specific importance of students playing on sports teams. For
example, Valois et al. (2004b) found that greater dissatisfaction with life among
American adolescents was related to not playing on a sports team (school or
otherwise). Similarly, Vilhjalmsson and Thorlindsson (1992) demonstrated
a positive relationship between life satisfaction and participation in clubs and social
groups among students in Iceland. Similar results have been reported in
United States middle school students where males and females who reported not
playing on sports teams were more dissatisfied with their lives (Zullig and White
in press).
The relationship between life satisfaction and behavioral problems has also been
investigated using person-centered research approaches. Based on global life satis-
faction scores, the aforementioned study by Gilman and Huebner (2006) identified
three groups of students: very high, average, and very low satisfaction. The findings
revealed that no students in the “very high” level of life satisfaction demonstrated
clinical levels of psychopathological symptoms, whereas 7 % of the “average” group
and 42 % of the “very low” group reported clinical levels of symptoms.
Finally, SWB, in the form of frequent positive emotions, has also been related to
students’ interpersonal coping behavior. Using a coping scale based upon the
context of peer interactions at school, adolescents’ experiences of frequent positive

emotions, but not negative emotions, were associated with problem-focused coping
behavior, specifically engaging in direct problem-solving efforts and/or seeking
social support. The problem-focused coping behaviors, in turn, mediated the rela-
tionship between adolescents’ experiences of positive emotions and their school
engagement (Reschly et al. 2008).
26.4.4 School Engagement/Dropout
High levels of student engagement in schooling are related to student SWB.

Understanding the relationship between SWB and school engagement is important
because researchers have theorized that SWB and school engagement relate to each
other as well as academic outcomes. As described by Appleton et al. (2008), school
engagement is typically conceptualized as having three components: behavioral
(e.g., cooperative school behavior, effort), affective (e.g., emotional connection
to school, liking school), and cognitive (e.g., positive attitudes and values related to
schooling). Research has suggested that school engagement mediates the relation-
ship between school liking and students’ academic performance, as early as
kindergarten (Ladd et al. 2000). The importance of liking school (i.e., school
satisfaction) is underscored by the finding that the United States Department
of Education has identified dissatisfaction with school as the most frequent
reason given by adolescents for dropping of school (US Department of Education
1990). This section reviews additional studies of school engagement and
student SWB.
Lewis et al. (2011) conducted a longitudinal study of the relationships between
global life satisfaction and school engagement among middle school students.
Cross-sectional results revealed significant associations among the life satisfaction
and behavioral, cognitive, and affective engagement measures (rs ¼ 0.34 to 0.43).
Further, longitudinal analyses revealed significant bidirectional relationships for
cognitive engagement and life satisfaction. This latter finding suggests that not only
do higher levels of cognitive engagement facilitate higher levels of life satisfaction,
but the reverse is also true. Higher levels of SWB appear to facilitate higher levels
of cognitive engagement, which may promote an upward spiral of higher levels of
positive SWB and school engagement. These results are important for several
reasons. First, the results underscore the importance of discriminating among
different types of school engagement. The authors suggest that it is possible that
life satisfaction may be an important determinant of cognitive engagement for
middle school students; however, life satisfaction may also predict lower levels
of behavioral engagement as students reach high school and college. However, this
study only followed students across 2 time periods in middle school, 5 months
apart; significant changes in behavioral engagement (skipping school) tend to occur
later in schooling. Indeed, Frisch et al. (2005) demonstrated that low levels of
overall life satisfaction significantly predicted dropout rates of undergraduate
college students. Second, the authors note the findings are also significant because
cognitive engagement is intended to measure students’ attitudes toward education

as a whole. Higher levels of cognitive engagement in early adolescence may be
a precursor of the “lifelong learner” that many teachers aspire to develop. On
the other hand, lower levels of cognitive engagement in early adolescence may be
a precursor of school dropout.
Research has also investigated possible moderators of the nature of the school
engagement-SWB association. For example, You et al. (2008) studied differences
in the relationship between school engagement and life satisfaction as a function of
bullying status. On the one hand, they found that student school connectedness
(a component of affective engagement) was a partial mediator of the relationship
between hopeful thinking and global life satisfaction for students who were “non-
victims” of bullying in school. In contrast, the authors found that school connect-
edness was not a statistically significant mediator for students who had experienced
more frequent peer bullying.
Taken together, studies of student behavior, including student engagement
behavior, support the notion that both environmental and individual difference
variables are significantly associated with student SWB. The overall findings are
also consistent with the social-cognitive model of life satisfaction of Suldo et al.
(2008) in which cognitive factors (e.g., academic self-efficacy) mediate the rela-
tionship between contextual factors (e.g., school climate) and school satisfaction,
which in turn influences global life satisfaction. However, the results of the relevant
longitudinal studies suggest that the model may need to be extended to incorporate
bidirectional relationships, for example, between global life satisfaction and student
engagement.
26.5 Conclusion
Schooling is a primary activity during childhood and adolescence. In light of the

amount of time that children and adolescents spend in school, it is perhaps not
surprising that the quality of their school experiences appears to be associated with
students’ SWB. The results reviewed herein suggest the importance of a number of
key aspects of the school environment that matter, including the quality of interac-
tions with teachers and peers, parental involvement in schooling, instructional
practices in the classroom, students’ perceptions of safety, students’ perceived
and actual academic performance, and opportunities to participate in extracurricu-
lar activities. The school context is clearly an important determinant, beyond the
family environment, of positive child and adolescent SWB and quality of life. In the
aforementioned Suldo et al. (2008) study, the combination of school climate and
individual difference measures (e.g., efficacy beliefs) accounted for a full 41 % of
the variance in the students’ school satisfaction reports. Nevertheless, as should
be apparent from this review, such research remains preliminary, with much
additional work needed to clarify the nature of the relationships between schooling
and student SWB.
26.5.1 Research and Practice Implications
Current research suggests that school-age students’ SWB reports and school
experiences are interrelated and, in some cases, predict negative school outcomes,
including the likelihood of cognitive and behavioral disengagement from school.
Nevertheless, there are limitations to the extant body of research. Specifically,
a substantial number of the studies are cross-sectional; longitudinal studies are
rarer and needed to help elucidate causal mechanisms. For example, investigating
the buffering effects of SWB and/or school engagement on stressful life experi-
ences or chronic family, neighborhood, or peer problems over time with large,
diverse samples is critical to our understanding of the directionality and potential
bidirectional influences of these variables. Diener’s (2009) recommendation to
strive toward asking more complex questions by using the most advanced statistical
techniques available is also prudent for further research in the area of student SWB
and schooling. Ecological, cross-cultural, and interdisciplinary studies within and
across disciplines (e.g., psychology, sociology, education) are also necessary to
move this body of research forward.
Measurement issues also need to be addressed. A review of current research
suggests that several psychologically sound measures of SWB exist and are used
regularly in research contexts; however, the use of unidimensional versus
multidimensional measures varies across studies. Future research investigating the
relative usefulness of using single indicators versus multidimensional indicators is
needed. Further, context-specific research is important to determine specific corre-
lates/predictors, moderators/mediators, and consequences are associated with differ-
ent components of SWB (e.g., frequency of positive emotions and negative emotions
in school as opposed to positive emotions and negative emotions in general).
The availability of suitable techniques for use with children below the age of
eight represents a major gap in the literature. Research that extends to early
childhood will be helpful in the endeavor to understand the relationship between
SWB and specific correlates/predictors over time and development. From
a bidirectional model, SWB in the short run is probably more predictive of behavior
than grades, but in the long run, maladaptive, disengaged school behavior may lead
to decreased grades, avoidance of more challenging courses, and dropout. That is,
comprehensive efforts to promote SWB may involve simultaneous attention to
supporting positive academic performance and behavior as well as SWB.
The body of research investigating the relationship between child and youth
SWB and academic outcomes is in its formative years. However, if we combine
the SWB research with adults with the research on children, substantial evidence
exists to suggest that attention to student well-being and assets in addition to deficits
is critical to creating school environments in which children do not just achieve
standards, but flourish. The research implies that children and adolescents who
experience frequent positive emotions are more likely to experience success in
school given that they are emotionally prepared to explore, cope effectively, and
persist at learning tasks (Reschly et al. 2008; Wolfe and Brandt 1998). Significant
linkages between academic performance and school behavior thus support notions
that children’s reports of SWB should be measured and attended to in system-level

and individual-level plans in schools to address and promote more economically
driven “vocational” or academic goals (Huebner et al. 2009).
The body of research reviewed throughout this chapter strongly suggests that
attention to systemic factors within schools, like school climate, is essential given
their relationships with child well-being. Systemic factors represent key interven-
tion avenues to promoting flourishing. Research has consistently demonstrated the
importance of positive student-teacher relationships on a personal and an instruc-
tional level for enhanced SWB and school outcomes. For example, both positive
student-teacher relationships and positive peer relationships are important factors
associated with student perceptions of safety and support at school. Children who
perceive their school environment to be safe and supportive are more likely to
achieve expected academic and social outcomes.
The research also supports the importance of nonschool elements of
microsystems (e.g., family, community factors). The research investigating parent
involvement in schooling suggests that this variable has significant relationships
with both student SWB and educational outcomes. Parent involvement in schooling
throughout both primary and secondary school is significant. Positive community-
school collaboration also demonstrates a positive relationship with children’s
schooling and school climate. Within these mesosystems (home-school relation-
ships, community-school relationships), research has demonstrated the importance
of student engagement in extracurricular activities (e.g., sports, physical exercise,
civic, and/or arts-related activities during and after school). Thus, a positive school
climate reflects more than what takes place within the school walls. A positive
school climate appears to ideally involve a “village” of parents, teachers, peers, and
adult models working in concert in the community (Benson et al. 1998). This
research is timely in that recent literature has suggested that youth today will be
required to be more flexible, culturally competent, and creative to flourish in
a global community (Pink 2006).
At the student level, intentional promotion of healthy academic and social self-
perceptions (e.g., academic self-efficacy/competence), tempered by constraints of
reality (Pajares 2009), should remain a critical aim of education. SWB promotion
efforts do not mean that the aim should be complete elimination of negative affect.
Studies indicate that negative affect can serve as an important motivator in some
environments and activities. Oishi et al. (2007) show that extreme levels of positive
emotions are not always “optimal” for certain life outcomes, such as those that
require motivation for self-improvement. That is, those individuals who were not at
the highest level of happiness, but at the second highest level of happiness,
performed better in those domains that required achievement motivation. Their
research suggests that relationships of SWB with outcomes, such as achievement
(including income) and education, may be nonlinear. Thus, optimal levels of SWB
may differ across contexts. Noteworthy contextual differences are also evidenced
by studies investigating differential benefits of positive affect across groups differ-
ing in socioeconomic status (Diener et al. 2002). Further, the relationship between
SWB and schooling outcomes may be moderated by the importance of schooling
within a given culture (Park and Huebner 2005). More research is needed to
determine how functionally different levels of SWB influence academic outcomes.
Research that investigates the optimal levels of SWB for students and how the levels
can differ across groups (e.g., SES, ethnicity) and across activities (e.g., academic,
social) will be critical to adequately inform appropriate applications. Attention to
developmental factors is also important given the consistent trend of decreased SWB
in adolescence (Goldbeck et al. 2007; Suldo and Huebner 2004).
The school environment appears to have the potential to influence student SWB for
the better – or for the worse. Perhaps, the major conclusion from this research is the
central importance of interpersonal relationships in school in determining the SWB of
students. Given this social context of schooling, Baker et al. (1997) recommend
a relational approach to schooling that is constructed around an ethic of care in four
fundamental ways (see also Noddings 2003). First, the professionals in such “caring”
schools model caring relationships among all persons in the schools. Second, school
professionals engage children in formal and informal “lessons” on ethics and values
related to caring, respect, and responsibility. Third, they encourage children to engage
in service activities in the school and community, developing a sense of responsibility
beyond the self. Finally, school professional reinforce students’ caring behaviors
whenever possible. Consistent with many surveys of parents’ desires for public
schools, caring schools thus continue to stress basic academic learning, but aim “to
prepare students broadly, not just for productive work but also for successful relation-
ships with other people, for civic responsibilities, and for fruitful and rewarding leisure
activities” (Bok 2010, p. 157). School policies should thus be developed and evaluated
in light of their ability to foster such broad-based aims of education. Again, the results
of such efforts should be subsequently evaluated through ongoing monitoring of
student SWB, school climate, and related variables (Huebner et al. 2009).
In short, preparing students for economic and vocational success is likely not
sufficient to prepare them for a more comprehensive “life worth living” (Bok 2010).
The body of research on student SWB should help pave the way for increased
attention to the individual and systemic variables that can help students flourish at
school and beyond.
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Children’s Work
27
Michael Bourdillon
27.1 Introduction
Much literature on children’s work focuses on how, as “child labor”, it can harm
children and hinder their development. In most cultures throughout the world,
however, adults and children consider work to be essential to good child rearing
and children consider work to be constituent of growing up. A comprehensive view
of children’s work considers both benefits and harm it conveys to child well-being.
The discussion on “child labor” is frequently based on values and ideology
rather than evidence: in particular, a romantic ideal of childhood, free of responsi-
bility for others, has become dominant and conceptually associated with wealth and
success but with little empirical support from studies of child development.
A growing body of ethnography of childhood is challenging Western assumptions
that children’s work is incompatible with their well-being. Jo Boyden, Birgitta
Ling, and William Myers produced a comprehensive challenge to common
responses to “child labor” in their book, What Works for Working Children
(1998), in which they produced evidence to show how work can have both positive
and negative effects on children’s lives. The argument has been taken forward in
our book, Rights and Wrongs of Children’s Work (Bourdillon et al. 2010), which
takes account of much recent research in a variety of related disciplines.
In this chapter, I initially try to avoid ideology by starting with observations of
how work enters the lives of the majority of the world’s children and how it
frequently contributes to their development. The term “children” is used generally
as in UN Convention on the Rights of the Child: to cover young people up to
18 years of age. Where relevant, distinctions are made roughly according to age,
particularly between younger children and adolescents, but this chapter considers
generally the work of children from middle childhood (starting at the age of
M. Bourdillon
Department of Sociology, University of Zimbabwe, Mt Pleasant, Harare, Zimbabwe

822 M. Bourdillon
around six) onward. By the start of middle childhood, the brain has developed
physically and children are rapidly acquiring motor, social, and physical compe-
tencies (Campbell 2011).
This chapter first considers the family context and how young children naturally
start participating in social activities like work; they acquire basic skills – motor,
technical, and social – in the home through imitating and participating in activities
of older children and adults, including their work. The next section shows how this
process continues as children grow and spread their relationships beyond the family
context, particularly in gainful employment. The section presents a variety of
situations in which children commonly work, discusses reasons for working, and
shows how work is fundamental to growing up for many children throughout the
world and so contributes constructively to their well-being.
The third section discusses things that can go wrong with children’s work and
how in certain situations it can hinder their full development. It presents harmful
and potentially harmful work situations and different ways in which work can have
adverse effects on children. It indicates what research can tell us about relationships
between work and schooling. The fourth section considers ways of assessing the
influence of work on children’s well-being, taking into account both benefits and
harm that can result from children’s work. This leads to a discussion of strategies
for protecting children in the workplace: to focus only on protection from harm
without taking potential benefits into account is ultimately not protective, and
options that might be genuinely protective are suggested. Finally, this chapter
points to some gaps in our knowledge.
27.2 Work and Growing Up in the Context of Family
In a recent article, Barbara Polak (2012) describes a family at work on a bean

field in Northern Ghana. Present were the mother and three sons, aged 11, 7, and 5.
All the children had eagerly accompanied their mother to the field, and she
had arranged special hoes for the two younger ones to use. The 11-year-old was
fully competent and worked at roughly the same rate as his mother and for longer,
since she had other household chores to perform. The middle child was able to help,
but did not work continuously, and the mother and the oldest child had to check and
sometimes complete his work. The important roles of the middle child were to work
alongside the youngest and supervise him, to teach him, and to protect the crop from
damage: the 7-year-old was already acquiring some competence and responsibility.
The two younger ones playfully imitated the shouting and behavior of adults they
had watched at work, but easily tired and interrupted work to play at the edge of the
field (sometimes imitating work activities). When the mother sent them to fetch
drinking water for the party, they responded enthusiastically to the chance to
contribute to the family work in a different way – and a way in which they were
fully competent; they returned with the water some time later, having been dis-
tracted at the village – for which there was no recrimination.
27 Children’s Work 823
This vignette illustrates a number of features of the work of young children that
are at odds with common perceptions of children’s work in Western societies.
Although participation was expected, especially on the part of the older and more
competent child, no compulsion was exerted on any of the children. Rather, their
engagement in the work was enthusiastic. The younger children combined work
and play in their participatory activities. Through their participation, the children
were learning motor and other skills necessary for this productive activity,
becoming reliably competent with practice as they grew physically and socially.
The skills they were learning were important for future subsistence: the partici-
pation was useful to the children in the long term. In addition, they were learning
appropriate social behavior. The youngest child needed supervision to ensure that
crops were not damaged, and the 7-year-old could not be relied on to complete
some tasks. Generally, far from adults exploiting the help of children, their
tolerance of the children’s wish to participate incurs extra responsibility. There
is nothing to suggest that such participation in work by young children is detri-
mental to their well-being: in situations like this, exclusion is more likely to be
damaging.
27.2.1 Learning Through Work
Developmental psychologist Barbara Rogoff argues that the process of learning

through imitation and social participation is the most fundamental social mecha-
nism of human cognitive development. In her book, Apprenticeship in Thinking
(1990), she offers on-the-job training as a paradigm for learning and she describes
in some detail how children learn through “guided participation” in social activities
with the help of one or more mentors. In this way, they learn not only how to
perform tasks necessary for the livelihood of the family but also how to engage
successfully in the complex human relationships surrounding all these tasks. So, she
argues, people develop through participation in social activities.
A good illustration of the role of children’s work in their development and
socialization is provided by Inge Bolin’s ethnography of childhood in a pastoral
society in the Peruvian highlands, based on a study that covered more than a decade
(2006). She draws a picture of rich cultural and social lives in the midst of severe
economic poverty, where children’s work was both an economic necessity and
a vehicle of cultural transmission. She shows how play, learning, and work were
sometimes indistinguishable from each other. In their play, young children imitated
the tasks they saw family and community perform: they made toys out of natural
objects to represent, for example, animals that they would soon be herding and their
toys were related to the productive life around them. As they became able, they
voluntarily joined in the work, from which they learned not only competence in
carrying out tasks but also patterns of social cooperation, expected standards of
behavior, arts of self-expression, binding rituals and cosmic beliefs, and moral
discernment. Tasks entrusted to children, such as herding animals, were consistent
with their capacities and often provided opportunity for play while working, as well
824 M. Bourdillon
as learning essential skills. Children generally took pleasure and pride in their work,
which was rewarded with praise and, at certain points, with more substantive
recognition, such as a rise in community status or the gift of an animal of one’s own.
These Peruvian children enjoyed considerable freedom and participated fully in
the social and religious rituals that define their culture and so apparently avoided
a difficult transition through adolescence into adulthood. Despite severe poverty,
the children grew up happily, suffered little conflict and violence, acquired a rich
store of life skills, and apparently adapted well to their own society while remaining
flexible enough to fit into formal education and town life where that was an option.
Bolin attributes much of this developmental success to the empowering and mutu-
ally respectful social environment in which the children were reared. Participation
in work was a central vehicle of that empowerment and mutual respect.
Cindi Katz (2004, 59–108), based on studies over 15 years, describes in detail
how Howa children in Tanzania learned about their environment and developed
a variety of life skills through a constant combination of work and play. The lives of
the Howa were changing in response to the development of irrigated agriculture in
their land and contact with global markets. Although these changes resulted in
increased workloads for children, they still managed to find ways of including
playful touches while they learned creatively to accommodate new realities.
Anthropologist David Lancy has surveyed a mass of ethnographic literature on
childhood and provides a more general picture. He speaks of a “chore curriculum”
(2008, 235–245), arguing that prior to the modern era, education took place everywhere.
This process of learning through work continues in many societies where children
observe and emulate proficient members of the community and start from a very early
age to undertake a variety of tasks. These include cleaning, collecting and preparing
food, working in the fields, caring for animals, and caring for children younger than
themselves. They learn efficiently by imitating older siblings and adults and through
practice, only rarely receiving verbal instruction from a teacher. Lancy points out that
although chores are necessary, demands take into account the growing capacities and
competencies of children, and there is often a degree of negotiation in what the children
do and how intensively they work. As in the case of the Peruvian highlands, children
brought up in this way generally find means of combining work with play: young
herders (usually boys) have plenty of opportunity for play while the animals under their
care are grazing; girls caring for infants also have chances to play with their peers.
The farming skills behind the agriculture that feeds most of the world’s population
are almost everywhere learned from childhood through early participation in fields
and pastures. This is the way rural children can acquire detailed knowledge about
their environment. Similarly, most of the world’s women learn to manage homes and
care for children through their participation in chores with their sisters and mothers.
Children may fail to acquire such practical skills and environmental knowledge if
they give much of their time and energy to school knowledge; this can even apply to
the loss of social skills in high-income societies (e.g., Katz 2004, 113–117, 174).
Gerd Spittler (2012) describes how Tuareg pastoralists in Niger long resisted sending
children to school since it prevented them from learning the very intricate knowledge
necessary to herd camels and participate in trading caravans.
The “chore curriculum,” however, is not always without problems for the
children. Studies of children’s use of time often show substantial hours given to
unpaid work in their homes, especially in communities involved in small-scale
agriculture. A study that analyzes this topic in detail in a poor rural setting in
Zimbabwe shows that girls in particular can have little free time for leisure
activities (Reynolds 1991). Tasks undertaken in the home can interfere with
schoolwork (see below) sometimes because parents fail to notice that traditional
expectations do not always accommodate changing demands on children’s time.
More generally, the culture children learn through their work in the home can be
more advantageous to some than to others. Through the kind of participation they
are encouraged to undertake, girls and boys may learn to take for granted the heavy
burden of housework that is laid on women. In hierarchical societies, children may
learn to accept without question the allocation of certain kinds of work associated
with a particular class or caste, as well as the deference demanded by those higher
in the social scale and a lack of respect for those lower in the scale.
Through their developing competencies and the contributions they make, chil-
dren acquire status in their families and confidence and self-esteem in what they
achieve. This benefit depends, however, on the contributions being appropriately
recognized: if these are minimized and denied the status of work, some of the
benefit may be lost. Often children and their families take for granted the tasks that
children undertake and may reduce their importance by referring to them as “help,”
reserving “work” for what adults do – normally paid employment or otherwise
productive work. Nevertheless, children’s chores are work in the broad sense of
effort toward an end (as is the work of housewives, although it is not always
recognized as such). Using the term “work” to cover a range of related activities
helps to avoid belittling the contributions of children to their families and commu-
nities and to avoid prejudging the value of particular activities.
A further point made by Rogoff in a subsequent book (2003) is that children
develop competencies in different ways depending on the training and expectations
that prevail in specific cultures. Stages of development as described by psycholo-
gists in the West, such as those of Piaget, do not apply cross-culturally. For
example, while childhood risk is largely avoided in several Western cultures
(such as the UK and the USA), elsewhere children are guided in dealing with
risky situations and in particular how to handle potentially dangerous tools.
Western societies generally avoid placing responsibility on young children; even
when older children may be allowed some responsibility with respect to those
around them, the dominant assumption is that their main responsibility is school-
work and citizenship in the future. In other cultures, children take on a variety of
responsibilities at a very early age – well before they are 10 years old, including the
care of infants, and in pastoral societies children may be placed in charge of herding
the family wealth. While in the West, emphasis is often on developing motor and
cognitive skills, in many societies, communication and social relationships receive
priority over such skills, and a sense of social responsibility is included in judg-
ments of children’s intelligence (e.g., Serpell 2011). Since expectations affect the
development of children and how children and their communities assess their
826 M. Bourdillon
achievements, work has differing roles in different societies; cultural context is

therefore relevant to how work impinges on the well-being of children.
A major variation in what work is expected of children relates to the economic
status of societies and families. Poor families often need and expect contributions
from all members to maintain an acceptable livelihood. Even when children’s work
is not necessary for the family economy, they may be expected to work to improve
or maintain the family’s standard of living. Wealthy families, however, do not need
contributions from children. Such families have resources to pay for mechanized
household appliances and for outside labor to maintain the home, and they have no
need of extra income. The trouble of supporting and monitoring children’s attempts
to contribute, and the difficulty of ensuring that they can do so safely, often results
in children’s offers of help being rejected.
Moreover, in high-income societies, children are largely separated from the
daily lives of adults. In particular, children have little chance to accompany adults
to their workplaces and so to participate in the activities of work; indeed, the
presence of children in places of work may be prohibited by national safety
regulations. Many toys and leisure activities bear little relation to life skills or to
the life of adults. Young people learn in specialized institutions, under the guidance
of specialized adults from a very early age. Children have little chance of
experiencing through work responsibility for others who depend on their competent
performance of certain tasks. They grow up largely in the company of siblings and
peers. It might be expected that in such circumstances they learn a culture domi-
nated by young people rather than by the adult community.
Some communities try to find ways in which children can gain work experience
while still attending school, in what is called “cooperative education” in the USA,
and there have been recommendations for schools to take account of pupils’ part-
time employment in the UK (Howieson et al. 2006, 227, 230–231). Another
response has been for such societies to make virtue out of necessity and present
as an ideal a childhood without work or responsibility, reinforced by a Romantic
tradition in art and literature (for a discussion of the changing perspectives of
childhood in Western societies, see Cunningham 1995). That only relatively
wealthy people in the world can afford to live up to such an ideal means that it
readily becomes a goal for others to aspire to, a goal that has become dominant in
high-income societies and among the wealthy elite in low- and middle-income
societies. Since such a childhood is largely taken for granted in the Western
societies in which most psychological research takes place, we have little informa-
tion on how the well-being of children is affected by their being deprived of the
chance to contribute to their families through work.
27.2.2 Economic Activity in the Family Context
One line of argument is that children’s work for the maintenance of the home or
for subsistence is acceptable, but any kind of economic activity by young children
amounts to exploitation and is not acceptable. There is some justification for this
argument in that production for markets is not limited by needs of home con-
sumption, and excessive demands can be made on children for such production.
However, the divide between economic and noneconomic work is not always
clear and is not a reliable guide to work that is harmful or exploitative. The
feminist argument applies to children as much as to women: unpaid work within
the home should be recognized as economic in that it enables other members of
the household to earn, and it can be exploitative, sometimes more so than paid
employment (Nieuwenhuys 2005). Moreover, not all work in economic enter-
prises (especially those operating within the family context) has been shown to be
harmful to children.
Work in family farms where the main crop is commercial, such as cocoa
for export, need not be fundamentally different from production for subsistence
or for the local market. A study of cocoa farming in Ghana (Bøås and Huse 2006,
49–52) shows that most cocoa was produced on small family farms, which
utilized family labor especially in the short harvesting season. Young children
normally performed light and easy tasks. Partly because of the prosperity of
cocoa farmers, school enrolment was high notwithstanding the work that children
performed in the industry. To prohibit children from working on such farms
restricts their opportunity to acquire farming skills as well as restricting
family income.
While children of peasant families with land can readily contribute to production
on the family farm, children of poorer families do not have this opportunity. When
their parents depend for subsistence on working on other people’s land for wages,
children may still wish to participate in such a family enterprise. When parents are
paid on a piecework basis, the contributions of children can improve the family
income. In Mexico, for example, children from poor agricultural areas travel with
their families to earn seasonal money when their own agricultural season is over
(Bey 2003). Children remain with their families, learn about the wider world,
including how to earn and to deal with employers, and work on light tasks to
contribute significantly to their family economy. Adults carry heavy crop buckets,
while children perform the lighter work of picking. As with productive work
generally in the home, these children are able to learn while they work. Although
such travel may seriously disrupt schooling, teachers have commented that children
are often sharper and brighter when they return from such trips and show improved
social skills. The wages for all are low and living conditions are poor, but the work
of children enables the family to earn the substantial amount that they need to meet
their obligations at home, while the children acquire knowledge and skills that are
likely to be useful for their future livelihood.
In both rural and urban areas, small-scale trade is common in many communi-
ties, and children often acquire the necessary skills by accompanying and helping
their trading parents. Children may start trading as a kind of game, imitating adults
(Invernizzi 2003). Children as young as seven may sell small items to their peers
while their mothers trade with adults in more expensive items (Sharp 1996, 37–38).
As in other kinds of work, children involved in petty trade find ways of entertaining
themselves, particularly by socializing with peers. As they grow, they become with
828 M. Bourdillon
practice more competent in trading: they learn to relate to outsiders and in particular
to potential customers.
Children can learn through family economic activities when these are conducted
in the home. Ali Khan (2007) describes the trade of stitching footballs in Sialkot,
Pakistan, before it was disrupted by an international (and largely ill-informed)
campaign against the involvement of children in this activity. Most stitching took
place in homes through a system of piecework subcontracting. This allowed the
whole family to participate and to fit work with other schedules. Women could
combine stitching footballs for income with their domestic work and caring for
young children. Children in the family could help their parents when they were free,
normally in a relaxed and protective atmosphere, and learn the skills required.
Beginners could stitch the simple seams, leaving the more complicated parts to
those who were older and more skilled in stitching. Children were learning skills
that would be useful in the future while they contributed to the family economy.
Although the economic nature of work can sometimes result in excessive
demands on children, economic work also frequently provides useful learning
environments while it provides important economic benefits for poor families and
their children.
27.3 Expanding Experiences and Relations
So far, this chapter has largely been about work within the context of the family.
Outside a protective family environment, there are greater risks for children. I now
consider work outside the nuclear family and potential benefits that might outweigh
the risks involved.
27.3.1 Work in Other People’s Homes
In many societies, the family is broader than the nuclear family. The extended
family shares responsibility for children, and children grow up as contributing
members of this larger community. When nuclear families move apart, children
may weaken their ties with the larger group, resulting in insecurity when death,
conflict, or economic disaster disrupts an isolated family. On the other hand, ties
and shared responsibility can be maintained even when the kin are distant by
placing children in the homes of relatives; such movement may be determined by
adults, or the children concerned may be willing participants in the decisions. The
practice is especially important when livelihood is insecure due to potential failure
of crops or other shocks. Movement between homes can offer more than improved
security of livelihood for children: when a child moves to a wealthier home or
a more resourceful environment (as in movement from a poor rural area to a city),
he or she may receive material benefits, sponsorship of education, and help in
marriage and in building a career. Living in places away from home can broaden the
child’s experience and knowledge. Children’s contributions to the households they
move into, using the skills they have learned through working at home, make such
movement possible. Indeed, when children have to leave home because their
parents have died or as a result of some other shock, the extended family offers
a home and means of survival; the fact that children exchange services for their
board allows some room for negotiation about where they are to stay and how they
are to be treated. Western ideas that protection of children requires that they live
with parents or immediate family appears unnecessarily restrictive in many
societies.
Such arrangements, nevertheless, carry risks as well as benefits. A study in South
Africa (Bray 2003) showed that children living in homes away from parents or
grandparents worked on average significantly longer hours in domestic work than
did those living with their immediate family. Wealthy relatives do not always treat
poorer kin according to traditional expectations, and there is a possibility of
children being exploited.
Children sometimes move to the homes of people who are not kin in attempt to
improve their lives or make their livelihood more secure. This may be an informal
arrangement similar to moving between kin, or it may constitute formal domestic
employment for wages as well as benefits in kind. While many children profit from
such arrangements, the risks of exploitation and abuse are greater, and they are
common in certain cultural contexts (see below).
27.3.2 Labor-Market Work
In the first section of this chapter, the term “work” has been used in a broad sense to
cover a variety of activities involving effort with a utilitarian purpose. This section
focuses on work as gainful employment or labor-force work, but does not exclude
heavy productive work in the home.
From early adolescence, and sometimes earlier, children in both high- and low-
income countries frequently seek gainful employment outside their homes, in most
cases in combination with schooling. Such work is often associated with poverty
but, even in high-income countries, part-time employment during adolescence
appears to be a majority experience, often in defiance of cumbersome regulations
intended to limit and control the employment of children (e.g., White 1994;
Lavalette et al. 1995; Hobbs and McKechnie 1997; Mortimer 2007, 117).
Some children are compelled to work and in such circumstances that they hate
what they have to do. Work can go badly wrong for such children. The vast majority
of working children, however, are not simply passive victims, but exercise some
agency in their work (Liebel 2004). They exercise some choice in whether or not
they work and the kind of work they do; or they perceive that they have such
a choice. The choice to work may be instigated by the children, or they may
willingly or reluctantly accept the suggestion of elders. The choice of jobs is
sometimes in the hands of adults, or the children require the help of adults to
make contact with employers, but the children frequently have a say in what kind of
work they do.
830 M. Bourdillon
The range of labor-market work performed by children is considerable, from

agriculture and herding, through working with textiles and other productive indus-
tries (both in the home and in factories), to a variety of services, including
delivering milk and newspapers in high-income societies. Sometimes the work
involves hard manual labor. The entertainment industry provides well-paid jobs
for a few, abusive exploitative work for some at the other extreme, and a range in
between. Many young people find ways of earning through self-employment,
particularly in trade and services on city streets.
Jobs are usually short-term and sometimes seasonal. As young people grow in
experience and learn to deal with employers and customers, they often
progress from dull and repetitive jobs at first to jobs that require some skill and
enterprise. Jobs often have a gender bias. In many societies, girls are heavily tied up
in unpaid domestic and related work, while boys are more likely to work in the labor
market.
Conditions of work also vary widely. Some jobs occupy only a few hours
a week; others take up more time and can interfere with schoolwork; still others
are full-time, inhibiting any schooling. Employers range from those who try to
make maximum profit out of their young workers at one extreme to those who are
concerned about their employees – even employing them precisely to help. In some
situations, children are treated with scant respect and have no opportunity to
exercise any initiative; in others, enterprise is encouraged.
Except in extreme cases, young people frequently establish some control over
their lives through labor-market work. They acquire experience in dealing with
people beyond the confines of family and peers and particularly with employers.
Their income provides a degree of autonomy.
27.3.3 Why Children Work
There is a vast literature on why children engage in labor-force work, and it can be
categorized into three main perspectives. One relates work to child rearing and
education in its broadest sense. This theme arose in the section on learning through
work, and the relationship between school and work will be discussed below.
A second perspective emphasizes cultural values, in an extreme form of which
children are regarded as family assets to be exploited. While many societies
consider that the good of families and communities is more important than that of
the individuals that make them up, ethnographic literature rarely, if ever, shows
families and communities having no concern for the well-being of their children.
Moreover, if cultural explanations are to be convincing, they need to take into
account variations within societies and environmental and economic factors that
influence cultural values.
The third and dominant strain in the literature is that children’s work is related to
poverty and, in particular, that children are forced to work to be able to survive.
Children’s work is especially significant when the contributions of children will
make the difference between adequate nutrition and undernutrition, which has been
shown to have long-term effects on physical and cognitive development (Behrman

2012). The work of older children may be important for the well-being of younger
siblings.
There are broad statistical inverse correlations between the wealth of societies
and the labor-force work of children in them. Demographic considerations explain
why this might be expected. In low-income countries, the incomes of the adults are
much lower and the proportion of children and youth in the population of
low-income countries is nearly double that of high-income countries. Low-income
countries cannot therefore provide the resources that high-income countries can in
support of a work-free childhood. Broad correlations between low income and child
work do not, however, indicate precise causal relations: research shows the rela-
tionship of children’s work to poverty to be complex (Bourdillon et al. 2010,
66–87). Many children who work are not particularly poor and many poor children
do not work. Sometimes children from poor families have little opportunity to find
gainful employment: their problem is child unemployment. Times of relative
prosperity in a given society can reduce the amount of work undertaken by children,
but do not always do so.
There are specific situations in which poverty regularly gives rise to children’s
work. Many studies relate children’s work to shocks and emergencies to which
families that are already poor are particularly vulnerable (Bourdillon et al. 2010,
74–76). These may be widespread such as crop failure, or war, or natural disaster; or
they may be specific to the family, such as loss of a major breadwinner through
illness or death – or even simply the loss of a job. Poor families have few reserves
for dealing with shocks and the work of children can be important for the family’s
recovery. Children’s contributions can also help them to deal with their own
trauma: there are many examples of children taking pride in making a financial
contribution to help resolve family problems (e.g., Crivello et al. 2012, 227–231).
At the community level, during the Second World War, British children were
encouraged to participate in the war effort through productive work (Mayall and
Morrow 2011), and more recently in India, there is evidence that children benefitted
from being involved in planning and activities appropriate to their age in the
reconstruction after the tsunami of 2004 (International Institute for Child Rights
and Development 2006).
Many children have to work because they have no adult support, which is often
not available from social services in low-income states. In 2005, sub-Saharan
Africa had just over 9.1 million orphans under the age of 18 who had lost both
parents, representing approximately 1 in 40 of all children (from UNICEF 2006, 36,
Table 2) and resulting in large numbers of child-headed households in many
countries. The devastation of HIV/AIDS means that many other children live
with incapacitated parents and so become effective heads of household and princi-
pal breadwinners for their families. Throughout the world, there are children on city
streets who have to support themselves because they have no parents, or their
parents are unable to support them, or they have fled abusive homes. In such
situations, children need income from work to survive. Surviving through their
own efforts can sometimes give meaning to their disrupted lives.
832 M. Bourdillon
While many children are under pressure to work to acquire necessities for life,
this discussion builds on the supposition that the most common reason for children
taking up gainful employment is that such work is a fundamental human activity,
and young people like to participate in it as they grow up. They exercise agency in
their work. The reasons they give for working are relevant to the way in which their
work affects their well-being. When asked, young workers have provided several
reasons for working (see Bourdillon et al. 2010, 35–38), and these inform what
follows.
The most common primary motive that children report for seeking employment
is the need or desire for income. Many working children say that poverty drives
them to work and that they must work to support their families.
Even when families are not so impoverished as to be short of nutrition, contri-
butions from children, whether to family enterprises or from earned income, can
improve the quality of life for the family; these contributions can help with such
things as clothing, improving the homestead, and, particularly, expenses for school-
ing. In middle-income families, children’s earnings can enable them to meet
expenses that, though not strictly necessary, allow them to maintain their status
with respect to their peers and so release parents’ earnings for other household
expenses.
Over and beyond the basic needs they help to meet, working children often say
that their financial contributions generate greater respect for them and higher
standing in their families. Young workers often take great personal satisfaction in
being considered providers.
In better-off families where child work is an optional part-time activity, children
value income for entertainment and luxury goods, such as fashionable clothes and
electronic gadgets. While these items are not strictly necessary, young people enjoy
them and can feel pressure from peers and advertisers to spend in this way, even
occasionally on entertainment that interferes with schoolwork.
Some children value paid employment, particularly if it is away from home, as
a means for renegotiating their relationships with adults in their families; it helps
them to move toward adult status while maintaining good relations through their
contributions. One survey showed child workers in Nicaragua, El Salvador,
Guatemala, and Scotland claiming to value their work and income for relieving
them from dependence on others and giving them a degree of independence and
control over their own lives (Liebel 2001, 61–62).
Some reasons for working are social rather than economic. Young workers say
that their jobs allow them to keep the company of their friends or to expand social
ties. Another is to earn social status and respect. In rural Nigeria, girls approaching
marriageable age become visible to prospective suitors through the work of vending
(Robson 2004, 206). Working children in South America argued that their work
kept them from getting involved in criminal activities or begging and allowed them
to live a decent life in spite of their poverty. In other ways, work may contribute to
a young person finding a place in society – to become “someone in life” (Liebel
2001, 60–61). Children deprived of the opportunity to earn feel a loss of status,
especially when they become dependent on donations.
Vinod Chandra’s study of children of Indian descent in England and India shows
how they find meaning in their work in family enterprises, through which they
assert their status in the family and their cultural identity (Chandra 2008, 112–141).
Related to status is a sense of responsibility: child workers in England commented
that in their jobs they were trusted as responsible and competent in a way that they
did not experience at school (Mizen et al. 2001, 44–45).
A study in the USA suggested that good relations with a supervisor at work can
provide relief from tensions that children feel at home (Call and Mortimer 2001,
110, 118–119). This is often the case when young people migrate away from home
to work (below). Success in the workplace can also provide relief from tensions and
poor achievement in school.
Some children say they work in order to increase their long-term future prospects.
Many work at least partly to pay for school expenses in the hope of a better future.
Children often prefer jobs that will open up future possibilities, through experience
and skills and useful contacts, even when such work is hard or hazardous. Advanta-
geous employment can help girls to gain control over their lives, including decisions
about their marriage; work can help to delay marriage where early marriage is the
norm and to accumulate a dowry that might facilitate a more advantageous union.
General statistical studies on relations between early work experience and future
incomes have produced mixed results: in some cases, early work correlates with
higher later earnings, but in others with lower earnings – perhaps because it
interferes with schooling (Bourdillon et al. 2010, 85–86). Long-term benefits
depend on the kind of work, the conditions under which it is undertaken, the
aptitudes of the children, and the employment environment. A study in Minnesota,
USA, showed that steady work in adolescence was a good predictor of quick entry
into career-oriented work in young adulthood (Mortimer 2007, 192–196). Apart
from learning how to handle work situations and relate to employers, work expe-
rience can help young people to learn to manage their time. There is, therefore, no
evidence to reject generally the views of children and their families that certain jobs
can enhance their future prospects.
Children regularly report that they value their work for its intrinsic qualities that
they feel are fun and constructive. They talk about learning at work things that they
cannot learn at school. Several studies have shown that a majority of working
children enjoy their work, and young workers have repeatedly surprised researchers
by saying that they would like to continue working even if it were not necessary for
their family’s livelihood (Bourdillon et al. 2010, 38). Many express a preference for
combining work with schooling, regarding both as important components in their
lives. While this does not necessarily indicate that they do in fact benefit from work,
it is relevant to the children’s subjective experience of well-being.
27.3.4 Migration for Work
Young people from relatively poor communities often find employment away
from home. In many situations, young people migrate – without accompanying
834 M. Bourdillon
adults – in search of better incomes, better lives, better schooling, or simply for
broader experience. Usually this involves moving from rural to urban areas and
sometimes crossing international boundaries. The possibility of higher earnings
away from home provides an incentive to travel. Gainful employment can meet
transport and living expenses, making the travel they desire and the experience of
new places possible for children with few material resources.
Much official thinking and policy on child migration is dominated by cases of
children in extremely difficult circumstances (such as street children) or children
who are trafficked and abused (Hashim and Thorsen 2011, 13–14; Alber 2011). In
situations of dire poverty, parents might encourage a child to earn money away from
home or even demand this. We find accounts of children being sold to traffickers for
domestic service or abusive work in agriculture or industry (Riisøen et al. 2004,
28–31; Blanchet 2005; Ould et al. 2004). In a region of West Java (Indonesia),
teenage girls from land-poor families are under great pressure from parents to go
abroad to earn money in the entertainment industry, the sex trade, or domestic
service (Sano 2012). Occasionally children are simply abducted. Younger and more
inexperienced persons are particularly vulnerable to exploitation and abuse when
they have no supporting adults around them (Dottridge 2004, 19–20). While such
situations demand urgent attention, several studies indicate they comprise
a minority of child migrants.
The majority of child migrants are willing travelers, looking for a chance of
a better future through income, experience, education, or other training, or they
simply want to keep up with their peers. Studies in India, West Africa, and
Bangladesh show migrant children taking the initiative to travel or being happy
to cooperate with the suggestions of their parents. Children sometimes have to
negotiate permission to migrate – or they might leave without permission, espe-
cially when their desire for life elsewhere conflicts with the need for their labor at
home (Whitehead et al. 2007, 23–24; Iversen 2002, 821).
In some cases, the decision to migrate is dictated by need. I have mentioned
movement of children to overcome food insecurity. The collapse of local econo-
mies in Zimbabwe and Mozambique has driven many children to undergo danger-
ous and illegal journeys to South Africa, where they risk harsh treatment and arrest
(Staunton 2008). Occasionally a child flees harsh or abusive treatment at home, and
a small minority of young migrants speak of being neglected by their parents
(sometimes they mean that their parents cannot afford to provide what they need
or want). Even when undertaken under duress, such migration constitutes an
attempt by young people to take some control over their lives.
When the need is not dire, young people might be attracted by better living
standards away from home. Sometimes children move in the hope (not always
realized) of continuing their education when this is no longer possible at home.
They might specifically look for experience and training that will enhance their
future prospects, particularly when they see little use in the schooling available to
them. Sometimes too, they migrate to earn money for the education of younger
siblings (Whitehead et al. 2007, 28–33). In some societies or some sections of
societies, it is culturally expected that children travel to work and to gain experience
(e.g., on the Dogon of Mali; see Dougnon 2011). Moreover, poor rural areas may
offer little to engage adolescents out of school. When children have nothing to do at
home, especially if they are thereby getting into trouble, parents may encourage
them to go and find work elsewhere.
A study of migration in West Africa (Hashim and Thorsen 2011) shows teenage
boys leaving home to work, often without parental permission, partly to attain
a degree of independence and to escape oppressive control and workloads imposed
by adults at home. In many poor rural communities, young people see migration for
work as the only way to improve their livelihoods. Migrating also allows young
people to negotiate a new status in their families through their financial contribu-
tions, even when the initial move did not have parental permission.
Although life in the cities does not always meet their hopes and expectations,
migrant boys show enterprise and flexibility in adjusting their plans. Some lessons
they learn from dishonest and exploitative employers are harsh, but nevertheless
useful. They learn to assess risk and to deal with it, which can have a positive effect
on their development; such learning is possible only because things can sometimes
go wrong for them. Some migrants fail to achieve what they had hoped, making it
too embarrassing for them to return home – or perhaps they have no home to return
to. In this way, many children from poor rural areas can end up on struggling to
survive on city streets.
Even voluntary migration often removes young people from their normal sup-
portive networks and can make them vulnerable to exploitation and abuse. When
they move outside their network of acquaintances or kin, they have little chance of
contacting their families or escaping harmful treatment. The presence of kin is no
guarantee of safety; however, a study in Ghana showed migrant children as likely to
complain about their treatment when working for kin as when working for others
(Hashim 2006, 11).
It is often assumed that the migration of young teenagers away from home
disrupts relations with the family. Rupture with families, however, is not usual.
Even when children migrate to escape tensions at home, perhaps over poor perfor-
mance at school, they often restore their relations with their families by contributing
from their earnings. More generally, movement often involves the cooperation of
kin: young people may travel with kin or call upon relatives to provide accommo-
dation near the place of work. Especially where there is a cultural tradition of
children migrating to work, there is often a network between the places of work and
the home community, even crossing international frontiers, which informs prospec-
tive migrants on what to expect, provides helpful contacts to make the trip
a success, and enables migrants to keep regular contact with their homes.
In practice, children have both positive and negative experiences of working
away from home. Even those working on city streets may see benefits in their
situation. Some children have improved their lives and the livelihood of their
families by leaving rural homes for city streets in a variety of ways: perhaps
improving nutrition, acquiring cognitive and other skills necessary for their work,
and developing income-generating enterprises and life trajectories (see, e.g., Nunes
et al. 1993; Rizzini and Butler 2003). Sometimes, the decision to travel involves
836 M. Bourdillon
cutting ties (at least temporarily) with families who are unable to support them
adequately (Ofosu-Kusi and Mizen 2012). Young people who return home after
years of work away sometimes express a desire to travel again to a more fulfilling
way of life.
27.3.5 Apprenticeship
In many societies, individuals learn a particular trade or career through formal or

informal apprenticeship, in which the student moves from observation and periph-
eral participation to full and guided participation in the activities of the craft under
an established master.
To illustrate informal apprenticeship, a child among the Kyrgyz nomads in
Central Asia might become a tentmaker by watching and helping a master, who
may be his father or some other relative. The child learns how to care for the trees
that provide the wood, how to form the wood, and how to make the roofing. It takes
only a month to make one tent, but the apprentice must stay with the master for
a year, at the end of which he will be given equipment and told to work on his own
(Bunn 1999, 80). Noncommercial skills are learned in a similar way but without the
formality of completing an apprenticeship.
In West Africa, common apprenticeships for girls include sewing, embroidery,
weaving, tailoring, and knitting; boys become apprentices in mechanics, carpen-
try, welding and other forms of metalwork, fishing, tailoring, and as assistants on
trucks (Riisøen et al. 2004, 22). Apprentices are paid little or nothing: typically
the families of an apprentice pay a fee to the teacher for the training. Sometimes
apprentices have to buy their tools, which they are not always allowed to keep,
and there may be further payments to be made for the receipt of a certificate of
qualification and release from the master. Apprentices are often treated with scant
respect and frequently beaten. Their tasks are not usually clearly defined and
include cleaning the workplace, watching over it during the night, and often
doing domestic and even agricultural work for their masters. The apprenticeship
is sometimes subsumed into a form of fostering, in which the master takes
responsibility for the apprentice, who joins the household of the master. In
Nigeria, parents try to find people to whom they can foster out their children,
as a way of finding them an urban footing and entering a trade (Bass 2004,
23–34).
Most apprenticeships start in a child’s middle to late teens and last for a period of
2–3 years, but there are wide variations, depending on teachers and local cultures
(Morice 1982). In Senegal, apprenticeship for tailoring can last up to 10 years: the
child may start as young as 10 years old and the work excludes formal schooling
(Bass 1996). Notwithstanding their potential and actual shortcomings, systems of
apprenticeship can be an effective way for children to learn a trade. Apart from the
skills of a particular craft, apprentices learn the value of quality work, the costs of
making mistakes, and how to trade their products or services. Moreover, they enter
a network of trading contacts that often results in gainful self-employment in
adulthood. Such lessons and advantages are not easily incorporated into institution-
based vocational training.
This form of learning a trade through participation is maintained in some
developed countries for older teenagers and under controlled conditions. In
Germany, for example, while apprentices receive training at work in a particular
occupation under an experienced craftsman with teaching qualifications, they also
spend 1 or 2 days each week in school. The state pays for the apprentices’ schooling
and the salaries of their teachers. The apprentices receive a low wage for their work,
which underscores the fact they are still primarily learners rather than workers
(Hansen et al. 2001, 133–136).
27.4 Harmful and Hazardous Work
The previous sections have shown ways in which work can be a significant ingre-
dient of a flourishing childhood. On the other hand, in certain situations, work can
damage children physically and psychologically and hinder their development.
Some children find themselves in extremely abusive situations. In 1999, the Inter-
national Labour Organization (ILO) passed its Convention 182 on “worst forms of
child labor,” which received immediate and widespread (though not universal)
ratification. This Convention demands programs of action to eliminate as
a priority the worst forms of child labor from the lives of all young people under
the age of 18.
27.4.1 Worst Forms of Child Labor
First among the worst forms of child labor mentioned in this Convention are all
forms of “slavery or practices similar to slavery” (Article 3a). This category is
defined by the relations and conditions surrounding the work rather than particular
kinds of work and includes the sale and trafficking of children, debt bondage and
serfdom, and “forced or compulsory labour, including forced or compulsory
recruitment of children for use in armed conflict”. Forced or compulsory labor
can arise in agriculture, in industry, and in domestic work, and children separated
from supporting adults are particularly vulnerable: even if not physically
constrained, such children may not have the means to escape their situation. Loss
of freedom is frequently accompanied by physical and psychological abuse and
generally denies children the opportunity for healthy psychological and cognitive
development. This category clearly excludes work that is voluntarily and willingly
taken on by children.
Second, the Convention forbids “the use, procuring or offering of a child for
prostitution, for the production of pornography or for pornographic performances”
(Article 3b). Such practices are contrary to the values of most cultures and are
therefore psychologically damaging. Prostitution carries serious risks to health.
838 M. Bourdillon
The sex trade is often associated with trafficking, loss of freedom, and physical
abuse, and is therefore viewed as contrary to the well-being of children.
In certain cultures, however, prostitution carries no stigma and is considered an
acceptable occupation for older girls, which they might prefer over work they
would otherwise be doing, such as laboring in the hot sun on family fields.
Assessment of how various forms of intervention can affect the well-being of
girls in such situations is not straightforward, and there is a danger of ethnocentric
imposition of foreign values (for a full discussion, see O’Connell Davidson 2005).
A third category of “worst forms” is the involvement of children in illicit
activities, in particular for the production and trafficking of drugs. Such activities
put children in conflict with wider society, often expose them to physical violence,
and in the drugs trade can result in severe damage to health.
A substantial study of children in such activities, by Luke Dowdney (2003) in Rio
de Janeiro, Brazil, warns of the complexity of the situation. Children move into the
trade through social association with dealers on the streets and through lack of
alternative prospects to improve their lives. They are drawn into dealers’ gangs,
which give them an identity and status in an organization, together with some
excitement, even as it subjects them to violence and sometimes death. Dowdney
points out that to treat such activities simply as a criminal matter is unlikely to
succeed; rather children need realistic prospects to improve their lives in other ways.
Finally, ILO Convention 182 forbids “work which, by its nature or the circum-
stances in which it is carried out, is likely to harm the health, safety or morals of
children”. This category, commonly referred to as “hazardous work”, covers
a range of situations and is open to a variety of interpretations. Some work by
children (and indeed by adults) is irredeemably hazardous, such as work in glass
factories of Firozabad, India, where children worked long hours in intense heat and
at high risk of injury, in conditions in which even adults often cannot continue
beyond their mid-thirties (Wal 2006, 52–62). More frequently, hazards can be
reduced and conditions improved without preventing children from working.
Even when the nature of the work is agreed to be unacceptably hazardous for
children, dealing with the working children requires sensitivity and care to ensure
that they are not even more damaged by prohibitions on their work. Underground
mining, for example, is widely agreed to be unacceptably hazardous for children
because of its intrinsic dangers and particularly the dangers for children of working
extensively in a confined and often polluted environment. Yet in some situations,
young miners have argued that, in the absence of better alternatives, mining is their
best option (Bourdillon et al. 2010, 168). This situation raises two points: first,
intervention must ensure that better alternatives are available, and second, it must
consider the damage to children’s well-being that can result from ignoring their
considered opinions.
There is disagreement on how broadly to interpret “hazardous work” as one of
the “worst forms of child labor”. Some people argue to include a wide range
of work to be banned under this category, to provide extensive protection from
risk. If, however, too broad an interpretation is accepted, the focus on and priority
of situations requiring urgent attention becomes blurred. Moreover, a broad
interpretation of work coming under this category can restrict opportunities for
young people to gain experience and improve their lives through work. So it is not
necessarily protective to interpret “hazardous work” as broadly as possible.
Estimates of children worldwide caught in the worst forms of child labor are
published from time to time. The sources of these estimates, and variation in what is
to be considered hazardous, make them unreliable. Nevertheless, a significant
number of working children are caught up in the very worst forms of child labor
and are therefore in need of urgent intervention. Research generally indicates that
these are a small minority of all working children, although many others are
working in conditions that are not satisfactory and need to be improved.
27.4.2 Hazardous Work
Different kinds of harm can result from children’s work. Many concerns about
physical hazards in children’s work relate to health and safety standards in the
workplace generally and conditions that not even adults should experience. Some
factors, however, relate particularly to children. Since children have lower body
weight than adults and because they are growing, hazards from chemicals can be
particularly dangerous; such chemicals include insecticides in agriculture, toxins in
manufacturing, and other pollutants in the place of work. Other hazards to which
young workers are particularly susceptible include exposure to excessive heat and
noise and ergonomic hazards linked to repetitive motion, high force, and awkward
posture. Sometimes hazards result from mismatches between the small body size of
children and the machinery, tools, workstations, and protective equipment they may
have to use (Fassa and Wegman 2009, 129).
Although attempts to establish the effects of work generally on health and
growth on children have produced inconsistent results (Levison and Murray-
Close 2005), a number of hazards to health and growth are posed by particular
kinds of work or work environments (e.g., Forastieri 2002; Dorman 2008; Fassa
et al. 2010). Some kinds of harm are immediately observable in injuries and illness
that occur in an unsafe environment or immediate sickness from toxic chemicals.
Some kinds of harm may have permanent effects, perhaps becoming apparent only
years after exposure to the damaging environment. For example, silicosis (leading
to tuberculosis) is associated with work in stonecutting and pottery in India, but the
disease may develop only after 20 years. Some work can have mixed effects on
health: scavengers in Manila, Philippines, had higher levels of lead but lower rates
of anemia than schoolchildren in metropolitan Manila (Ide and Parker 2005).
Hazards do not necessarily result in actual harm to children. When boys wield
machetes on family farms, accidents happen. A boy is less likely to cut himself if he
has been trained in the use of the instrument and if it is the right size for a person of
his stature. The question remains as to whether or not the risk of working with
a machete is commensurate with the benefits to the boy and his family. Some
studies simply enumerate injuries sustained in a particular type of work without also
considering the benefits of this work and without comparison to the injury rate in
840 M. Bourdillon
other activities: these have limited use in assessing child well-being. (A similar
question concerning risks and benefits can be asked of much play and sport.)
Apart from such areas of discretion, children’s well-being demands that hazards
be removed from, or minimized in, their workplaces. If this is not possible or if the
working environment inevitably results in serious damage, the work is clearly
unacceptable.
A common problem with children’s work is its intensity and the time given to it.
A frequent concern is that work interferes with schooling and reduces the possibil-
ity of leisure activities. Relationships between work and school are discussed
below; first, I consider how work can become excessively extensive.
When work is undertaken under compulsion or duress, the hours of work
cannot always be restricted to reasonable limits. When the livelihood of the
child or the family depends on the productive work of children, extensive working
hours have to be weighed against the need for nutrition and other necessities.
This kind of situation is particularly likely to arise when poor families
suffer some kind of crisis. Crises can lead to incurring debt, again compelling
children to work, sometimes as laborers bonded against the debt. When children
from poor families are compelled by such a situation to forego schooling and other
activities for too long, they get caught up in the cycle of poverty with much reduced
chance of developing opportunities to earn a more secure livelihood when they
grow up.
It is not, however, necessarily the work itself that is the primary threat to the
child’s well-being. The work contains risk to development but is a response to deal
with a greater problem. The loss of income may be due to the absence of other
resources, such as medical facilities or adults’ access to gainful employment. The
families, and often the children themselves, make a decision that in their situation
the benefits of work outweigh its disadvantages for the well-being of the child.
Stopping the work will not improve the child’s situation and prospects unless other
support is provided to deal with necessities. Children of the poor generally accu-
mulate multiple risks, which need comprehensive attention (see Wachs 2012). To
eliminate one risk – such as excessive work – without attending to the larger
situation is unlikely to contribute significantly to child well-being and may indeed
be damaging.
Apart from the need to produce or earn, crises can affect the work of children in
other ways. Owing to the epidemic of HIV/AIDS in southern Africa, increasing
numbers of children there have inherited heavy responsibilities of caring for the
sick and for household work that adults can no longer perform. Even in high-
income countries such as England, many thousands of young people have been
heavily involved in caring for invalids in their homes with little external support,
a responsibility that can interfere severely with schooling and socialization and
sometimes damages the health of the caregivers (Dearden and Becker 1999, 2004).
Nevertheless, caring work for parents and other close relatives can provide impor-
tant benefits in strengthening family relations and dealing with trauma in the family,
particularly when the end is bereavement. Children’s well-being may require
support in the work rather than protection from it.
Even when the work is not strictly necessary, individual or cultural values may
increase demands on children to work beyond what readily fits in with other
activities. In some cultures, it is expected that children work to support adults in
their families, and children are at the beck-and-call of any adult who wishes for
their services. Particular problems arise from the demands sometimes made on girls
for child care and domestic work, which can leave them with little free time and can
sometimes interfere with their schooling.
Some apprentices are exploited by their employers; they may work long hours in
the workshop and undertake domestic chores besides. Another area in which
children are frequently required to work long indeterminate hours is domestic
employment, where a child can be on call day and night, sometimes 7 days
a week. In virtually any field, there are likely to be some unscrupulous adults
who try to maximize profits by making excessive demands on their workers.
Children, whose work is often not formally recognized and even sometimes illegal,
are particularly vulnerable in this respect, with no protection from trade unions. The
vulnerability is often exacerbated when working children come from families or
communities of much lower status than those of their employers and can be
compounded by gender inequalities.
In several contexts, young people have pointed out that work for employers is
more demanding than unpaid work at home: at home, you can rest when you are
tired or not feeling well. Nevertheless, parents or other guardians can also be very
demanding, and some young workers report that what they do in employment is no
more strenuous than what they had previously to do at home. Some studies have
shown that extensive unpaid work in the home can be disruptive to schooling (e.g.,
Assaad et al. 2007; see also Guarcello et al. 2007, who suggest including nonmarket
activities in estimates of child labor). Problems can arise when parents fail to
recognize that traditional chores can interfere with schoolwork, particularly when
older girls are expected to do virtually all the housework while in their final years of
secondary school. Indeed, in some contexts children are concerned about the work
demands made by parents and guardians at home, in contrast to which paid
employment is a positive experience (see, e.g., Bourdillon 2009, 30). A study of
children who had migrated from hill villages to work in carpet factories in
Katmandu, Nepal, showed the boys preferring to be back at home but girls happy
to be there since factory work was easier than their workload at home (Johnson et al.
1995, 57, 65).
The demands made on children depend partly on their relations with their
employers. Work may be carried out in a totalitarian environment, with supervisors
and other adults dictating what the young workers should do and allowing no
freedom or negotiation: this kind of working environment can apply to adults as
well as children. But with no formal recognition of their work and often with no
formal contracts and the possibility of easy dismissal, children are particularly at
the mercy of their employers.
In some situations, children are regularly scolded, even beaten, for perceived or
real mistakes. Punishments can include withholding wages and imposing fines,
which in some cases are severe and arbitrary. Children have little chance of
842 M. Bourdillon
compelling employers to pay due wages: few working children have access to
legal systems and rare recourse to courts has sometimes failed on the grounds
that the work was not legal. When children are dependent on employers for
board and shelter, as in domestic work or apprenticeships, food may be withheld
as a form of punishment. Child domestic workers in particular are frequently
abused sexually, and sexual and other forms of harassment can take place in all
work situations.
A major concern of many child workers is that they are not treated with respect.
Disrespect can take a number of forms, including beating, abusive language
and forms of punishment from employers. A mild form is to belittle children’s
work in a variety of ways: it is not valued in monetary terms; it is belittled in
language and denied recognition as work; it is sometimes characterized as shameful
or illegal.
Disrespectful and abusive treatment can be very damaging to children’s self-
esteem and self-confidence and consequently hinder their development as much as
physical hazards. Such treatment is not confined to workplaces: it occurs also in
schools and even homes and can be part of a broader problem related to the way
children are perceived in a social context that accepts abusive language and beating
children. Sometimes young people seek employment precisely to escape from such
treatment at home or at school.
Concern has been raised in the literature that the employment of children leads to
behavioral problems (particularly in the USA, e.g., Greenberger and Steinberg
1985) and that their enhanced sense of independence can adversely affect family
solidarity and unity. Income from work can be spent on entertainment in ways
that can disrupt schoolwork and family life and even damage children’s health.
A study of working and nonworking adolescents (aged 16–18) in the USA showed
that those who worked were a little more likely to disagree with their parents
over such things as dress, friends, going and staying out, helping in the house,
sex, smoking, money, school, and family (Manning 1990, 192). It is not
clear, however, whether work causes these problems, since children with prior
problematic behavior at school or at home are more likely to look for paid
employment, nor is it clear whether the problems are temporary or more enduring
(see, e.g., Mortimer 2003, 165).
We have little information on the effect of work on behavior in low-income
communities, where work is accepted as normal. As indicated earlier, contributions
from children can improve their status in their families and in the case of young
migrants can contribute to restoring tense relations. I have also pointed out that
working children in South America argued that, far from making them delinquent,
their work kept them from getting involved in criminal activities. A comparison
between children doing similar street work in Brazil shows that those working from
home usually maintain the values of their families, while those living on the street
are more dependent on peers for support and more likely to get involved in criminal
activity (Campos et al. 1994).
Possible adverse effects of work on the behavior of young people, therefore,
remain an open question requiring further research in a variety of contexts.
27.4.3 Work, School, and Education
A frequent concern about children’s labor-force work is that it can interfere with
schooling and so inhibit cognitive development. In particular, work is thought to
prevent children from acquiring skills that will enable them to earn good incomes in
adulthood. Thus, the ILO Convention 138 relates the minimum age of employment
to the age for the end of compulsory schooling. In economic terms, it is frequently
assumed that children’s work emphasizes immediate returns and inhibits the for-
mation of human capital. Research reveals a much more complex relationship
between school and work (for a fuller discussion of this topic, see Bourdillon
et al. 2010, 108–132).
Numerous studies show correlations between children’s work on the one hand
and lower performance or attendance rates at school on the other. Econometricians
frequently speak of such correlations as showing the “effects” of work on school,
even when cause and effect have not been indisputably established. First, it is
necessary to consider factors that affect both work and school (intervening vari-
ables). Children in poor areas often have no or difficult access to schools, so
attendance is likely to be low and rates of work high. Children from impoverished
families, or with uneducated parents, are less likely to attend school or perform well
at school than their better-off peers: they are also more likely to work, both at home
and outside. Children from impoverished families may have had their cognitive
development impaired by malnutrition, compromising their performance at school,
and they need to work to help their families. There are also cases of children from
marginalized communities having problems with the language or culture at school,
in addition to being more involved in work. In such cases, background appears to
affect both work and school; we have no indication, however, as to whether the
work itself affects schooling.
Careful use of multivariate regression can control for such background factors
and establish a relationship between work and school attendance or performance.
This still leaves the direction of the link open. Schools in poor areas are often poor
in quality and short of resources: pupils in poor-quality schools learn less, leave
school earlier, and take up employment earlier. Similarly, children from marginal-
ized communities often lose interest in school when they face language and other
difficulties and so leave for work. In this way, poor school performance can push
children into work rather than work taking children away from school (see Bhalotra
2003). Even in high-income societies, children with little aptitude for schoolwork
sometimes seek more satisfying occupation in work.
It is possible that the statistical technique using instrumental variables can
establish that work affects schooling in a particular context. But valid instruments
are often not available. To be valid, an instrument must meet strict criteria: first, the
instrumental variable must be able to influence children’s work and not be
influenced by it; second, it can have no possible effect on schooling except through
work. Not all studies pay adequate attention to these conditions and to the second in
particular; if the conditions are not met, the most sophisticated mathematics cannot
establish causality.
844 M. Bourdillon
Econometric tests to show that outside work generally affects school perfor-
mance have yet to prove convincing (see the discussion in Edmonds 2008). Some
specific patterns, however, have been established.
The first relates to hours of work: surveys that fail to take into account the
amount of time taken up by work can establish little. Full-time work does correlate
strongly with decreased school attendance, although this does not indicate whether
children leave school because of their work, as happens in some situations, or
whether they start working because they have left school for some other reason, as
happens in many others. What counts as full-time work depends on the situation but
is normally above 30 h a week; the criterion applies to work within the child’s home
as much as to paid employment. There is no evidence, however, that part-time work
generally affects school attendance. Different situations point in either direction: in
some cases, children in part-time work are less likely to attend school; in others,
attendance does not differ significantly between working and nonworking children;
and in others still, part-time work has correlated with better school attendance. The
last is often at least partly because the children earn their school expenses through
their work: for some children, work makes schooling possible.
Children drop out of school for many reasons: for some, the schools are
inaccessible; many families cannot afford the costs; the benefits of local schools,
or of schooling in the local job market, are perceived as too limited to be worth the
investment of time and money; some children are discouraged by failure in
the classroom; some are beaten by teachers or harassed by other pupils; and
some – a minority – drop out in order to work (Bourdillon et al. 2010, 119–121).
Work is an attractive alternative for children already out of school. Several studies
have shown that when children return to school, whether through financial incen-
tives or by improved accessibility of quality schooling, the amount of work they
undertake drops (though rarely do they give up work completely); there is little
(if any) evidence that simply stopping children from working pushes them back
into school.
Does work take time away from school even if it does not prevent school
attendance? Again, research results are not consistent. As has been pointed out,
extensive work at home or in employment can interfere with schoolwork. Studies
suggest, however, that school and work usually compete only marginally for time.
When schoolchildren start working part-time, that time is mostly drawn from
leisure and passive activities. When working children find an opportunity to return
to school, perhaps through economic support or improved access to quality schools,
they usually reduce the time they give to work, but not by as much as the time they
give to school. Rather than assuming that work and school are in direct competition
for time, there is need to research the ways in which children use their time in
various activities and in particular situations.
Even if work does not affect school attendance or hours of schooling, it might
make children tired and less able to perform well at school. Generally, it is agreed
that up to 10 hours of work a week do not adversely affect school performance. The
effect of longer hours on performance is disputed and, as with attendance, research
results are not consistent. In some situations, working children perform less well
than other pupils; in others, they perform as well or better. Some academically less
able children seek satisfaction in work, where they find gainful and rewarding
experience even while they continue to achieve weak results at school. In such
cases, it is not so much that work affects school performance, as that poor school
performance encourages work.
A consideration remains in terms of the formation of human capital. Numerous
studies show that schooling correlates strongly with improved earnings in adult-
hood. It might therefore be argued that even a possibility of interference with school
is sufficient justification to prevent children from working, especially children of
the poor, who are most in need of improved incomes later. There are problems with
this argument. One is that studies of the effects of schooling on future earnings do
not take into account the aptitudes of pupils and rarely consider school quality or
job opportunities in particular environments. While children who are learning well
in a good school have prospects of lucrative employment when they complete their
schooling, gross figures do not indicate that children with poor backgrounds in
under-resourced schools and growing into a very restricted job market would
benefit in the same way from extra years at school (see Glewwe and Kremer
2006). Moreover, many important economic skills, such as those in agriculture or
various crafts, are learned through work rather than through school. One study
found that Brazilian child street vendors acquired mathematical skills through their
work that were better developed and more useful than those they were learning in
school (Nunes et al. 1993). Some studies have shown that in certain circumstances
work experience, even more than school, contributes to higher earnings in adult-
hood (Bourdillon et al. 2010, 85). So it is not always the case that work embeds
children in a cycle of poverty.
A further consideration in the relationship between work and school is the kind
of economic success promised by school. Large benefits from school for future
incomes of children in poor rural communities arise when it enables them to move
out of small-scale agriculture and into professional employment. Such a life tra-
jectory normally means leaving the small-scale agricultural communities that
comprise the large majority of the population in low-income countries. This can
greatly benefit certain individuals, but it cannot cover the whole rural population,
especially when opportunities for white-collar employment are few. Moreover, it
denigrates rural life and depicts as failures those who have little aptitude for school
and decide on a future in agriculture or other directly productive work (see White
2011, 6–7).
In the 1970s and 1980s, an ideal of combining work and school – “education
with production” – in the development of children and youth was widely accepted.
Such a perspective views classroom skills as only part of education. This philoso-
phy, however, was largely lost in the heavy emphasis in the 1990s on literacy and
numeracy skills and in the determination to remove children from labor-force work
(Myers 2001, 311–313); the term “education” is now frequently used as a synonym
for school. Yet since formal schooling is often restricted to academic learning,
compulsory schooling does not always fulfill children’s right to education, directed
to “the development of the child’s personality, talents and mental and physical
846 M. Bourdillon
abilities to their fullest potential” (United Nations Convention on the Rights of the
Child, Article 21,1a).
Rather than perceiving work as competing with education, it appears more
constructive to take account of different kinds of learning and to consider education
as comprising – for most of the world’s children – both appropriate work and
appropriate schooling. This requires the hours and nature of work to be appropriate
to the age of the workers and particularly to allow adequate time for schooling and
for rest and leisure.
Combining work and school also requires school hours that allow for work and
other activities. In situations where demands on children’s work are seasonal, as in
family or commercial agriculture, it is often possible to adjust school hours or
school terms to cater for them. Apart from initiatives in “education with produc-
tion”, there have been various experiments in adapting schooling to meet the needs
of working children, both in the times they operate and in the curriculum
(Bourdillon et al. 2010, 128–129). Some of these adjustments have been well
managed and as effective, or more effective, in imparting classroom skills com-
pared to standard schooling; nevertheless, there is a danger that informal schools
with short hours can deteriorate into inferior schooling.
The conclusion from this discussion is that school and work are not necessarily
incompatible; indeed, they can be complementary in a child’s full education.
There is little empirical evidence to support or refute the common assumption by
economists that child work is incompatible with human capital formation (Emer-
son 2009, 8). To improve school attendance, it would be more useful to attend to the
accessibility, costs, and quality of schooling than to drive children away from work,
often an alternative activity when school fails.
27.4.4 Problems with Classification of Children’s Work
Children’s work can be beneficial, and it can be harmful. How do we sort the
good and the bad? Some practitioners distinguish between “child work”, which is
benign, and “child labor”, which they define as harmful work that should be
abolished (the distinction is often difficult to translate into languages other
than English). The difference is clear enough at the stereotypical extremes.
Working all day down an insecure mine shaft with no freedom to stop or even
rest and no chance of schooling is clearly “child labor” to be abolished. Helping
mother with the odd kitchen chores is clearly benign. But most work that children
do has both harmful and beneficial aspects, actual or potential, making the catego-
rization of work into harmful or benign difficult and distracting: if an ambiguous
work situation is classified as “child labor”, the benefits that children may derive
from it are easily ignored; if it is classified as benign “work”, problems are ignored.
Frequently, such classification is assumed prior to study and analysis, bypassing
serious assessment. While identifying work that should be stopped is an urgent need
in extreme cases, the well-being of working children would more frequently be
served by identifying and minimizing the harmful aspects of the work they do and
by enhancing rather than stopping the benefits they derive from it. The division of
children’s work into “child labor” to be abolished and “work” that is benign might
simplify intervention, but it is not helpful for understanding the relation of work to
child well-being nor for ensuring that intervention promotes the best interests of
children.
The United Nations Convention on the Rights of the Child mentions the right of
children to be protected from economic “exploitation” (Article 32) but fails to
define this term. In the context of adult labor, “exploitation” usually refers to
inadequate compensation for work done, but for children the term is often used
more broadly and vaguely: some people assume that any children’s work outside
the family must inevitably be exploitative (e.g., Schlemmer 2000, 12). This gives
rise to incongruous situations where paid work is regarded as exploitation and
unpaid “help” (e.g., in maintaining a school) is not. In practice, children are often
caught up in exploitative situations where the poor have to work for small rewards,
and more lavish rewards are reaped higher in the chain of production. The work
of poor children, whether in the home or for wages, is thus linked to global
inequalities and arguably to the possibility of work-free childhoods for the wealthy
(Nieuwenhuys 2005).
The difficulty in classifying work as benign or harmful is well illustrated in the
case of child domestic work outside the context of a child’s immediate family
(Bourdillon et al. 2010, 156–161). On the one hand, as mentioned earlier, this can
be beneficial to children, spreading childcare beyond the immediate family,
increasing security, and broadening the child’s experience. Even outside the
extended family, there are numerous recorded cases of children improving their
lives through this kind of employment, especially when they move into a more
resourceful home; indeed, there are recorded cases of employers using such
employment to provide an opportunity for disadvantaged children to work for
their own improvement and of children finding employers supportive and helpful.
On the other hand, there are numerous recorded instances of abuse, especially
where children are living in the employers’ homes away from their kin; such
abuse includes excessive working hours, humiliating treatment, beating, inadequate
food, and not infrequently sexual abuse. Even kin sometimes mistreat children from
the extended family who are staying in their homes. In certain cultural or social
contexts, the mistreatment of child domestic workers is so widespread that there
seems no reasonable alternative to treating it as one of the worst forms of child
labor; in other contexts, intervention may serve children better by focusing on the
conditions of work and sensitizing employers about how best to treat their
young employees rather than depriving children of the chance to better themselves
in this way.
It is therefore difficult to categorize kinds of work into harmful and benign, and it
is not always in the interests of the specific children concerned to do so. What is
more important is to be aware of potential hazards and benefits in different kinds of
work and situations.
848 M. Bourdillon
27.5 Balancing Benefits and Harm
Table 27.1 lists major factors arising from work that can affect the well-being of
children positively and negatively.
The physical environment is important. A safe and healthy working environment
with an appropriate balance of learning, work, play, and rest can be beneficial for
children; while adverse working conditions, especially when health is threatened by
accidents or toxins and excessive workloads, can damage children’s development.
Most physical hazards are relatively easy to identify. They can be dealt with in
ways that are appropriate to any workplace: adequate training, protective clothing
and equipment, procedures to minimize risk – all appropriately adapted for young
people. Remaining risk can be weighed against material benefits such as useful
experience and learning, improved nutrition, and cash for other necessities.
Besides, even hazardous work can sometimes convey considerable psychosocial
benefits as well as economic ones, and all these need to be weighed against the risks
incurred (Woodhead 2004, 324). Children undertaking hazardous work are often
aware of the hazards but believe them to be outweighed by benefits, particularly the
long-term benefits that are derived from work experience.
Psychosocial factors, however, dominate this table and apply for the most part
not to the nature of the work but to the social relations and social environment
surrounding it. Consequently, the well-being of child workers is likely to be better
served by attending to the work environment, and particularly to the social envi-
ronment, than by categorizing types of work to be prohibited.
The balance of costs and benefits of any work depends on the situation of the
children concerned. In a family short of food, the nutrition to be gained from work
is essential and outweighs many disadvantages that the work may bring; in a family
with adequate resources, material income carries less weight. If a child is working
hard at school in the hope of entering a professional career, even small distractions
can be damaging. Context is especially important in the consideration of psycho-
social factors.
27.5.1 Psychosocial Effects of Work
Psychologist Martin Woodhead has given much attention to ways in which work
can benefit or harm children psychologically (1999, 2004, see especially his
summary table on p.338, from which I draw what follows). He points out that
harm and benefit from children’s work are related to the cultural context surround-
ing it.
Secure relationships and consistent settings promote children’s well-being.
When work involves the breakdown of social networks and emotional bonds and
there are no supportive relationships to help children cope with disruptions to their
familiar surroundings, it can be very damaging. This is particularly likely when
children are away from home and totally dependent on an abusive or exploitative
employer. A child’s sense of security can be further damaged when he or she has no
Table 27.1 Potential benefits and harm in children’s work

Field Potential benefits Potential harm
Physical
Health Improved nutrition – for worker and Unhealthy environment
other children in family Tiredness from excessive work or lack
of sleep
Growth Exercise Excessive work hindering growth
Working Excessive hours, poor lighting,
conditions excessive noise, cramped conditions
Hazards Learn to deal with dangerous situations Toxic chemicals
Air polluted by dust or vapors
Dangerous equipment
Abusive punishment
Income
Improved livelihood – for worker and No or inadequate remuneration
other children in family Remuneration taken by guardians or
Growing autonomy others
Rights in family resources
Psychosocial
Learning Life skills, trade skills Schooling prevented or hindered
Learning to interact with adults,
customers, etc.
Experience for future labor-force work
Responsibility Developing a sense of responsibility Anxiety from excessive expectations
Agency Growing autonomy Being forced to work with no choices
Sense of purpose, especially for those Loss of control over life in an abusive
out of school work situation
Developing resilience by dealing Loss of confidence after failing to cope
successfully with adversity and stress with excessive stress
Discipline, learning to manage time Loss of opportunity for creative
activity
Relations Broadening of relationships with adults Independence and loss of adult
and peers guidance
Relief from tension at home or school Harmful relations in the workplace
Shared experience with working parents Disrupted relations when away from
home
Improved relations in the home Social isolation
Tensions in the home
Self-esteem Sense of achievement Denigration, work not appreciated
Status
Status Status in family and among peers Loss of freedom and dignity
Empowerment Gender discrimination, sexual
Improved status for girls harassment
Recreation Escape from a dreary home Loss of leisure
Source Bourdillon et al. 2010, 175–176
850 M. Bourdillon
protection against an unscrupulous employer and can be dismissed at whim. In the

absence of any kind of protective environment, the fear of abuse can be as
damaging as the abuse itself. However, when work takes place in a stable environ-
ment with predictable routines, it need not be disruptive. Even where work involves
a change in the environment, as occurs when children travel, it need not be
damaging if the change takes place in the context of supportive relationships.
Families can be supportive of their working children and respect their contribu-
tions to the family. On the other hand, some parents make excessive demands on
their children and may even collude with exploitative employers. Work can be
particularly debilitating when all payment goes directly to parents and guardians
and children have no control over their earnings.
The nature of the work and guidance received can be important. In the home,
children progressively participate in socially valued activities. Under sensitive and
consistent guidance, they can learn appropriate skills and responsibilities. Such
learning can take place in workplaces outside the home. On the other hand, work
that is monotonous and not stimulating carries little if any benefit. When children
receive little encouragement in their work, but instead are regularly disparaged and
humiliated, and when they are stigmatized because of the work they do, this can be
damaging. Here the problem is not simply how employers treat working children
but also whether others in society respect or denigrate the work that they do.
A further possible influence is that, rather than teaching skills and responsibil-
ities, some work introduces children to values and behavior that are not socially
constructive, particularly when it involves illegal, even criminal, activities.
I have pointed out that work can provide opportunities for building healthy relations
with peers and for mutual support. In some situations, work can involve bullying and
violence among peers. Sometimes work takes children away from their peers, and
working children are occasionally stigmatized and rejected by other children on
account of the work they do. In some cases (as sometimes in domestic work), children
are isolated in the homes of employers and kept away from any social contacts.
Work can be beneficial when it allows full participation in school and other
social activities. Incompatibility among such activities may result from excessive
hours of work; it may also arise where teachers, police, or others in authority
stigmatize or exclude working children.
Particularly important for the development of self-esteem and resilience is the
experience of facing up to adversity and overcoming it. Work can be an important
means by which children help their families deal with economic shocks or crises
and so help to restore their families’ fortunes. On the other hand, if their efforts fail,
children can lose self-confidence. When a child takes up gainful employment in an
attempt to take control of his or her life, work can be a protective factor in life and
contribute to overcoming trauma (Boyden 2009). Disparagement and rejection of
such efforts can add to the trauma of adversity.
These observations indicate why universal classifications of kinds of work are
unlikely to be a reliable guide as to what work situations benefit or harm children.
More important are the contexts in which children undertake different kinds of
work. Further, the value of work for children depends at least in part on how it is
valued by others: it has been widely observed, by working children themselves and
by others, that the pain of social disrespect for their work, such as denigrating or
criminalizing it or arbitrarily removing them from it, can be more damaging to their
self-respect and socialization than the stresses within the work itself (Woodhead
1998; Boyden et al. 1998, 27–111; Bourdillon et al. 2010, 1–2, 8).
27.5.2 Opinions of Children
How important are children’s perspectives in considering whether or not work is in

their interests? It is not uncommon in the West that children have to be compelled
and cajoled to pay due attention to schooling, which is in their long-term interest;
left to themselves they would spend much time in front of TV screens and video
games, preferring immediate pleasure. When some children express a preference
for work over school, is this to be taken seriously? A first response is that the
perception of young people as irresponsible relates particularly to societies in which
children are not encouraged to contribute and indeed where their attempts to
participate in responsible activities are often rejected.
There is a more fundamental reason for respecting the opinions of children.
Much has been written on children’s right to participation in decisions that affect
their lives, the means to achieve such participation, and benefits that can accrue to
children from it (see ▶ Chap. 86, “Child Participation, Constituent of Community
Well-Being” by Martı́nez and Cusianovich in this volume, Lansdown 2001;
Thomas 2007). It is now widely accepted that children’s opinions should be
heard, taken seriously, and have some influence on decisions. Such procedures in
themselves (often lacking in interventions to stop child labor) have a beneficial
effect on children’s well-being – the converse of the damage done to children by
arbitrarily removing them from work without consulting them.
One of the observations on the psychosocial effects of work is that these depend
in part on whether or not work is a valued activity. The value that children see in
their work depends partly on how it is perceived by those around them – family,
peers, and society at large. Nevertheless, the important factor in developing self-
esteem is the value they themselves place on what they are doing. This is partic-
ularly so when the child is using work as an attempt to respond to adversity. The
circumstances and motivation for the work are significant for the child’s well-being.
The value children place on their work and the motives for undertaking it can only
be ascertained by consulting them.
The question remains as to how reliably children are able to judge what is
good for themselves in either the short or the long term. Clearly, the brevity of
their experience limits their knowledge, and they can get things wrong. Children
are not in a position to establish empirically the long-term effects of different
kinds of work, many of which are also not well understood by adults. Street
vendors or garbage scavengers, for example, are unlikely to know about the
dangers of lead pollution and its long-term consequences; yet they may value
their work as being lucrative, exciting, and free from adult control. Children may
852 M. Bourdillon
not be fully aware of long-term benefits deriving from schoolwork. But some-
times children are well aware of hazards and prefer to face them: when children
express a desire to participate in underground mining despite the hazards, if they
are to be overruled, it has to be clear why and how and what alternatives are
offered.
Adults can also make mistakes based on limited knowledge: indeed, adults are
often divided on precisely how to restrict children to reduce risk. Moreover, adults
are often motived by other interests, such as the convenience of control over
children, or approval by others, or fear of scandal. In particular, adults sometimes
overlook problems that children face. Consulting children’s opinions and taking
them seriously at least ensure that their interests are not overlooked.
Nevertheless, adults in society have an obligation both to guide children and to
protect them from harm. When young children wish to participate in activities that
are dangerous to them, perhaps because they do not yet have the strength to use
equipment safely or because particular activities can harm young growing bodies,
they are rightly prevented from incurring such risks. Tension sometimes arises
between children’s right to protection and their right to participate in decision-
making.
27.6 Promoting the Well-Being of Working Children
There are significant numbers of children and young people in extremely abusive
work situations, and these need urgent attention. A larger number of children work
in conditions that carry unnecessary risks. And yet work can contribute to child
development, especially in families that lack resources. What needs to be done to
ensure that children’s best interests are served?
27.6.1 Reflections on the Campaign to Stop Child Labor
One response is to adopt a “safe” approach: since some work is undoubtedly

harmful to children, the best way to protect them is to establish an age limit
below which children may not work. This is the argument adopted by the ILO in
its Convention on a Minimum Age of Employment (138 of 1973) and its subsequent
policy. The Convention prohibits “employment or work in any occupation”
(Article 1,1) below a minimum age, usually set at 15, with allowance temporarily
to set the age at 14 and a recommendation to increase it to 16; there is allowance for
“light work” 2 years below the set minimum age and for work in small family
enterprises provided production is not for external markets. The adoption of
Convention 138 largely ignored the advice of a report commissioned by the ILO
itself (see Dahlén 2007), and the Convention received little attention outside the
developed world in the first 25 years after its promulgation; nevertheless, it is now
widely accepted as a universal standard for child protection by policy makers and
many organizations.
The policy has, however, never been seriously assessed for its impact on children
and has received an explicit and direct academic challenge (Bourdillon et al. 2009).
There has been accumulating evidence that application of this policy often works
against the interests of children, particularly the children of the poor (children in
high-income communities often ignore its provisions and are ignored in its enforce-
ment). There is little if any evidence that the policy benefits children directly.
Sometimes campaigns to stop child labor have inspired interventions to improve
education and access to it, and sometimes they have tried to tackle poverty, but
children put out of work or denied the opportunity of employment do not always
benefit from such interventions (see, e.g., Bourdillon et al. 2010, 180–192). Evi-
dence does not support the idea that stopping children from working reliably pushes
them back into school.
A policy to stop work based on a minimum age of employment can divert
attention from more important considerations. First, it can blur the focus on those
particularly harmful work situations that require urgent attention. Second, it can
divert attention away from the poverty and structural inequalities that are often
behind the need of children to work. Instead, such a policy puts the blame for
children’s hardship and the responsibility for change on parents and individual
employers, who are often themselves victims of the social injustices that lie behind
the workload of children.
Behind the popular support in wealthy countries for campaigns to stop child
labor is a perception that child labor is a problem of poor and “backward” societies
and the inaccurate belief that in “modern” and “developed” societies child labor has
been eliminated (for a critique of this modernization perspective, see Cunningham
and Stromquist 2005, 55–58). This perception partly relates to a contrast between
practices that are common and therefore largely taken for granted in Western
societies and very different practices elsewhere. The employment of children in
entertainment and advertising, or in such jobs as delivering newspapers, or sometimes
unpaid work on family farms or in family enterprises, is usually taken for granted – or
at least tolerated – in Western societies; but paid employment of children in agricul-
ture or textiles is foreign to such “modern” societies and rejected. Children of the
poor are indeed more likely to be involved in heavy work. Stopping them from
working removes some of the discomfort caused by the clear evidence of grossly
unequal childhoods, but it does not necessarily attend to interests of children whose
circumstances put them under pressure to work.
The term “child labor” is frequently defined in terms of harmful work, and in
popular stereotypes, it is usually associated with worst forms: it is a value-laden
term. When the term thus defined is linked to a policy based on a minimum age of
employment, harmful work becomes confused with work that is not necessarily
harmful and in some cases not even illegal. Even if the term is carefully confined to
refer only to harmful or hazardous work, there is a problem when analysis and
policy are based exclusively on negative aspects of work and when the benefits are
ignored. There is therefore a case against using this term in academic discourse.
Focus on harm or risks in work characterizes a restrictive approach to child
protection. Much child protection focuses on removing risk from the lives of
854 M. Bourdillon
children. While this is important, it can lose sight of the greater need to protect
children’s opportunities to develop full and meaningful lives (Myers and
Bourdillon 2012). The focus on harm usually treats working children as victims
and fails to consider the agency they exercise in trying to control their lives. In
certain circumstances, protection against all risk can restrict children’s chances to
broaden their experience and capabilities. In the absence of appropriate alternatives
to work, a ban on child labor can damage the prospects of many children.
The one-sided focus on harm is a weakness of many reports on “child labor” by
watchdog organizations and journalists. They emphasize sensational cases that
might require and provoke action and rarely pay attention to the choices children
make in working or to the benefits that children may lose if they have to stop
working altogether.
27.6.2 Protecting Working Children
An alternative perspective starts from the observation that work is a fundamental

human activity. The 1948 Universal Declaration of Human Rights (Article 23, 1)
articulates everyone’s right to work and to join worker associations: there is no
evidence that children benefit from being deprived of this right. According to this
perspective, children should be protected in their work and not necessarily from it.
Approaches to children’s work that reliably protect the well-being of children
need to fulfill at least two conditions. First, they need to take full account of both the
benefits that can accrue to children through work and the damage that can result
from it. Second, they need to be flexible and sensitive to the environments in which
different children live and work. These conditions allow and encourage interven-
tions that protect opportunities for children to take control over their lives and that
offer meaning and hope.
Some promising approaches have been developed that, rather than rigidly trying
to apply universal standards, involve local communities in attending to the needs
and welfare of working children in their midst (Bourdillon et al. 2010, 178–179,
194–200). Local communities are in a good position to assess what work is
beneficial to particular children and what work is unacceptably hazardous. They
are in the best position to persuade employers, and sometimes parents, to attend to
the needs of young workers. They can also provide support for children in their
efforts to take control over their lives.
One way of supporting working children is to facilitate associations in which
they can support each other. These have grown up in Asia, Africa, and Latin
America. They can be more or less formal and are usually under the control of
the children themselves with adult help and guidance (the most comprehensive
account of such associations is still Swift 1999; see also Liebel 2004, especially
19–37). Since children are usually denied membership of formal workers’ unions,
these associations can serve some of the functions of a union in supporting
individuals in trouble with employers and sometimes in negotiating with policy
makers. But their dominant function is to provide an environment in which young
workers can share their experience and problems and provide moral support. They
also often provide training in useful skills, both technical and social, and sometimes
some schooling. A frequent observation is that, through their participation in
working children’s organizations, young workers often acquire self-confidence in
self-expression and develop pride in what they manage to do for themselves.
Some associations have become formal, crossing national boundaries, led by
children who claim to represent working children generally. These certainly help
many working children and provide forums in which young workers can safely and
confidently express their views. Some have managed to engage officials and policy
makers to improve certain conditions for working children. What remains ques-
tionable, however, is the extent to which they reach and represent the majority of
working children, many of whom live in rural areas remote from meeting places;
furthermore, young workers most in need of support often have little opportunity to
attend meetings or participate in the activities of such organizations.
27.6.3 The Politics of Child Labor
If work is a typical and instinctive activity of children with many benefits for their
development and well-being, why is there such a strong and pervasive antagonism
to children’s work in elite societies? Voices were raised against the campaign to
stop child labor in Britain in the nineteenth century: how is it that these appear to
have been totally defeated? If a work-free childhood can restrict children’s devel-
opment, how can it have become such a dominant ideal? These questions comprise
a topic for thorough research, and I can only suggest some partial answers.
One possibility is that antagonism to children’s work arises from revulsion at the
historical abuse of children in nineteenth-century industry in Britain and elsewhere
and by sensational accounts of abuse in the contemporary world; even though not
all children’s work involves such abuse, work becomes symbolically associated
with abuse. A further suggestion refers to the sociology of taste: a romantic
childhood is affordable only by relatively wealthy families and so becomes an
ideal for all to aspire to, acquiring moral value in the process. Another is the political
weight of an organization such as the ILO, which is committed to the elimination of
child labor for a variety of motives and which is not amenable to changing its policy
in response to findings of empirical research (see Woodhead 2007). One view
relates disproportionate reactions against children’s work to anthropological theo-
ries about taboo: in complex high-income societies, the lives of children have
become spatially separate from the lives of adults and are ideologically depicted
as preserving the value of innocence against the ruthlessness of the adult world, and
children’s work is an activity that threatens this conceptual dichotomy and so must
be rigorously rejected (O’Connell Davidson 2005). A further factor may be peo-
ple’s instinct to assume the correctness of their own culture and, consequently, the
inferiority of practices that diverge from it: attention to “child labor” usually
focuses on the work of poor children and ignores child work in high-income
societies. This distinction relates to the symbolic association of child work with
856 M. Bourdillon
poor societies and the absence of it in “modern” ones. All or any of these factors can
influence attitudes to children’s work irrespective of compelling empirical evidence
of what lies in the interests of children.
27.7 Conclusion
While this chapter draws on a large and growing body of research material on
children’s work, there are important themes on which information remains sparse.
This chapter concludes with a brief comment on research needs before summariz-
ing the main argument.
27.7.1 Research
Research that looks comprehensively at the place of work in children’s lives remains
sparse. There is much published research that focuses on negative aspects of children’s
work, where arguments are geared toward its abolition. Such research is unable to
provide a comprehensive understanding of how work relates to child well-being.
Many econometric studies are based on material collected for other reasons and cannot
therefore provide sufficient information on the specific situations of working children.
Estimates of worldwide numbers of children in “child labor” or in the “worst forms of
child labor” are unreliable: there are difficulties in assessing the amount of work that
children do and often their precise ages, and political interests affect the ways in which
figures are estimated in different countries (see, e.g., Ennew et al. 2005).
To protect the well-being of working children effectively, policy and interven-
tion must be based on careful investigation of their particular situation and the place
of work in it. Understanding the hazards is important, but equally important is
knowledge of the specific benefits that may accrue to children through their work
and of their own perspectives on their work. An area that needs research attention is
how social and life skills are learned through work and how such learning can be
accommodated with schooling in a variety of contexts. Context-specific research
is important.
When interventions are deemed necessary on behalf of working children, their
effects on the well-being of the children involved need careful assessment. Simply
counting those in or out of work does not comprise such an assessment. More
research is needed on how policies and interventions affect children’s lives, and
particularly the policy of prohibiting employment below a certain age.
A further area of research that has received insufficient attention is the effects of
depriving children of the opportunity to work. When children have no chance to
participate in fundamental social activities or to experience responsibility for
actions on which others depend, how does this affect their transition to adulthood?
What difficulties do they face later in life? What happens when their attempts to
participate are rejected? What are the effects on child development of separating
radically the world of children from that of adults?
27.7.2 Summary
The material presented in this chapter depicts work as a normal, human activity for
children, at least from middle childhood onward, and indicates that children
instinctively try to participate in the social activities surrounding them, among
which work is prominent. Although work in stressed or abusive situations can
interfere with children’s learning and development, work more frequently contrib-
utes constructively to a child’s immersion into the society to which he or she
belongs. Work – even labor – can bring to children both material and psychosocial
benefits and contribute to their learning life skills. Appropriate work can contribute
materially and psychologically to overcoming adversities faced by children and
their families. Contrary to popular assumptions, work and schooling are not neces-
sarily incompatible: they can often complement each other in contributing to
a child’s education and development.
The boundary between work that is harmful and work that is benign is not easy to
draw. Work within the home or within the family unit can sometimes be harmful,
while appropriate paid work outside it can be beneficial. There is no clear age
before which either paid or unpaid work is clearly harmful, although certain tasks
are not appropriate for young children. Most work contains, at least potentially,
both harmful and beneficial factors: even work that is in some way hazardous may
contain compensating benefits. In any particular work situation, the context and
particularly the social relations surrounding work are important influences on its
costs and benefits to child well-being.
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After-School Activities and Leisure
Education 28
Jaume Trilla, Ana Ayuste, and Ingrid Agud
28.1 Introduction
Robert Louis Stevenson, the author of stories that have filled the leisure time of
many readers both adult and child alike, wrote an essay in 1887 suggestively
entitled “An Apology for Idlers” which defended the virtues, including those in
the educational sphere, of idleness. He offered the following dialogue between an
upstanding citizen and a boy who, during school hours, was lying under the linden
trees on the bank of a stream:
“How now, young fellow, what dost thou here?”
“Truly, sir, I take mine ease.”
“Is not this the hour of the class? And should’st thou not be plying thy Book with diligence,
to the end thou mayest obtain knowledge?”
“Nay, but this also I follow after Learning, by your leave.”
“Learning, quotha! After what fashion, I pray thee? Is it mathematics?”
“No, to be sure.”
“Is it metaphysics?”
“Nor that.”
“Is it some language?”
“Nay, it is no language.”
“Is it a trade?”
“Nor a trade neither.”
“Why, then, what is’t?”
“Indeed, sir, as a time may soon come for me to go upon Pilgrimage, I am desirous to note
what is commonly done by persons in my case, and where are the ugliest Sloughs and
Thickets on the Road; as also, what manner of Staff is of the best service. Moreover, I lie
here, by this water, to learn by root-of-heart a lesson which my master teaches me to call
Peace, or Contentment.” (Stevenson 2009)
J. Trilla (*) • A. Ayuste • I. Agud

Department of Theory and History of Education, University of Barcelona, Mundet, Campus
Mundet, Llevant, Barcelona, Spain

864 J. Trilla et al.
The educational universe during Stevenson’s time was quite different from that
of today. In addition to the informal education that the boy in the story enjoyed and
flaunted, there was the family, the school (which many were unable to attend), and
a few other educational institutions. Nowadays, at least in developed countries,
schooling is compulsory and many other institutions have emerged with explicit
educational purposes. The educational life of our children is no longer limited to
family, school, and the street. In fact, our children spend many hours in school and
little time in the street (and even less beside a stream). After school many children
attend art workshops on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays or basketball practice
Tuesdays and Thursdays for a game on Saturday or Sunday. Some of those who do
not participate in sports take part in weekend activities at recreational centers or are
members of an organization such as the Boy Scouts. Some children might go to the
neighborhood play center or toy library or regularly attend music school. There are
those whose parents have hired a private tutor because they are doing poorly in
math. In summer, some children go to camp for 2 weeks, and because school
holidays are so long and parents have no idea what to do with their children,
some are enrolled in other extracurricular activities. In a study of a large sample
of children and adolescents in the metropolitan area of Barcelona, we found that
more than three fourths of the subjects regularly participated in extracurricular
activities, and more than one third of the sample also participated in more than one
activity (Trilla and Rı́os 2005).
This chapter is devoted to the entire range of after-school and free-time education
opportunities which are based on two premises that we assume are widely shared. The
first is that free time is important to the welfare and quality of life of people in general,
including children (Levy 2000; Trilla et al. 2001). The second premise is that previous
education influences how a person uses their free time. As expressed, these premises
are hardly debatable. However, while their theoretical and generic formulation may be
generally accepted, there are many significant issues that are far less clear when trying
to specify the premises in more exact terms or when trying to act on them. Do all uses
of free time contribute to the welfare of people and the community? Are some leisure
activities humanly and socially more desirable than others? If so, which ones? Finding
an answer to this question is necessary when addressing the second premise from an
educational perspective. For example, how can education help children enjoy quali-
tatively better leisure time? What free-time educational institutions, programs, and
resources currently exist and what others should exist? These are the questions we
explore in this chapter.
This chapter is divided into three parts. The first section deals with conceptual
issues related to free time and leisure and their application with respect to children.
The second section discusses the relationship between education and free/leisure
time. It begins by considering the justification for educational intervention into
children’s free time, based on an analysis of values and countervalues of educa-
tional intervention. Subsequently, the various aspects of what we call the “peda-
gogy of leisure” (education in, for, and through free time) are systematized. We also
devote part of this second section to identifying the factors that have influenced the
development of this education sector. The third section presents the various
28 After-School Activities and Leisure Education 865
educational environments in which to spend free time, such as institutions, pro-

grams, facilities, activities, and resources. These are presented as an index, after
which their shared characteristics are analyzed. Then, in the epilogue, and drawing
on the suggestions offered in Stevenson’s text, the possible limitations that should
be imposed in the name of children’s welfare on the accumulation of institutional-
ized educational activities are discussed.
28.2 Free Time and Leisure: Ideas and Realities
28.2.1 The Concept of Free Time
“Leisure,” “free time,” and other similar terms such as “recreation” and “idle time”
are common expressions whose meanings are clear when they are used colloquially.
When we try to define them rigorously or use them in real situations, however, we
realize that the concepts they represent are not always as clear as they seem. We
devote this first section of the chapter to these conceptual issues and to proposing
certain stipulations that will be useful for the remainder of the chapter.
Initially, the concepts of free time and leisure are usually defined as the opposite
of work. Free time would be the time left once an individual has fulfilled his or her
obligations at work (in the case of adults) or at school (in the case of children).
Nevertheless, it is obvious that not all non-work time (or non-school time) is real
free time. The time allocated to one’s basic biological needs and certain family
obligations would not be classified as free time. The formulas normally used for
a rough definition of free time or leisure are shown in Fig. 28.1. This simple outline,
which may be valid as a first approximation, is clearly insufficient when it is used in
an in-depth exploration of the real structure of the time and activities of today’s
complex society. In our view, the outline is insufficient for the following three
reasons:
1. Because it is only really applicable in the case of working adults or in-school
children. The outline does not address what free time or leisure represents for
those social groups who do not work or attend school. For example, what is free
time for a prisoner, a sick person, the unemployed, or a child excluded from the
education system? Are these people fortunate to have plenty of non-work time,
or does their particular situation make it difficult for or even deny them the
possibility to truly enjoy leisure? At this point it would be helpful in the
framework of our social-labor context to interpret a consideration made by de
Grazia (2000) when commenting on Aristotle’s concept of leisure. De Grazia
explains that for a Greek philosopher, the condition for enjoying leisure is not
only to have “non-occupied time” at one’s disposal, but more accurately to be
freed from the need to be busy. In this sense, people who ought to be working but
are unemployed would not be in the best condition to enjoy leisure, despite
having all time in the world at their disposal. Based on this idea, it could be said
that only those who have freed themselves from the need to work for a while
because they have worked before, or those who, as in Aristotle’s times, did not
Fig. 28.1 Simple outline of

the concepts of free time and “NON-WORK” TIME
leisure
WORK TIME BIOLOGICAL

(SCHOOL TIME) NEEDS, LEISURE
FAMILY and or
SOCIAL FREE TIME
OBLIGATIONS, etc.
have to work because they had an army of slaves to do it for them, are truly able
to appreciate leisure.
2. The outline is also insufficient because it does not include activities or times
which for certain people have a marked quantitative or qualitative significance.
For the religiously devout, is time devoted to their religious practices free time? Is
time a person dedicates to philanthropic tasks or volunteer work leisure time? The
outline in Fig. 28.1 is overly simplistic, requiring very dissimilar activities to be
placed in the same bag, activities to which people no doubt assign a very different
meaning. The central sector of the outline would have to include a diverse range
of activities all grouped together such as personal hygiene, standing in line to
renew your passport, praying, taking care of children, or carrying out acts of
solidarity. To address this, some authors have introduced other terms or concepts
into the discourse on time which highlight the insufficiency of the simple division
between work and free time or leisure. Concepts such as “socially useful time”
and “idle time” (instead of free time) suggest the need to use a more complex and
precise outline than the one proposed in Fig. 28.1.
3. The outline is too simple because it does not provide criteria to distinguish
between free time and leisure. It is true that in everyday language both expres-
sions are used interchangeably. In some cases, however, it may be appropriate to
distinguish them based on the denotative or connotative contents that they both
represent. On the one hand, free time, literally refers to an area or specific type of
overall time, while leisure seems to refer to a type of activity. Free time would
be, so to speak, a container, and leisure would be its possible content.
We therefore propose a more precise model than the previous one, overcoming
some of the limitations mentioned above (Trilla 1993a). In the outline in Fig. 28.2,
we no longer start out from the difference between work and free time or leisure but
from two more general, clearer categories that we call available time and
nonavailable time. These categories are explained in more detail below, but, in
short, nonavailable time is that which individuals have committed to tasks that
cannot be avoided. It is time usually governed by external forces, dictated by
inescapable obligations according to the status of the individual. Available time
would be that which remains.
Nonavailable time can be divided into the time spent directly or indirectly by
work (or school for children) and the time occupied by what we call non-work
Professional work (or school)
Work (or Housework

school)
Outside-work (or extra-curricular)
Non-available activities
Basic biological needs
Non-work Family obligations
obligations
Social obligations
TIME
Religious activities
Self-imposed
Social volunteering activities
social
occupations Other institutionalised training activities
Available
Non-autotelic personal occupations.
Free time Sterile free time
Leisure
(J. Trilla)
Fig. 28.2 Complex outline of free time and leisure
obligations. In the first case, we have paid work or housework and the time spent on
work-associated or school-associated activities such as travelling or homework.
In the non-work obligations category we include basic biological needs: sleep,
personal hygiene, and eating. We call them “basic” because when the time taken for
such needs exceeds the strictly necessary minimum, or when we add another
dimension to those activities, they acquire an additional significance (or even
a different substantive significance) which would place them in another category.
Sleeping-in on a Sunday morning just for pleasure or a meal where gastronomic or
social enjoyment are the main motivations would be activities closer to leisure than
to the nonavailable time category. The second non-work obligation is family
obligations such as looking after children, and the third is social, administrative,
and bureaucratic obligations such as completing income tax returns.
After discounting these times, there is some time left that we can use with much
greater discretion. This is what we call available time. Available time also has two
subcategories: the time for self-imposed social occupation and genuine free time.
The difference between the two is that for the first type we make a commitment,
albeit independently and voluntarily, with an authority beyond our control.
Examples of self-imposed social occupations would be certain religious activities,
voluntary activities with social purposes (volunteering in the strict sense of the
word, political affiliation, trade-union membership), and institutionalized training
activities. In these latter activities we do not include the formal schooling of
children since for them this would be comparable to adult professional work.
In all these cases, the commitment is acquired voluntarily, but until the individual
decides to end it, his or her decisions will be determined by others. The difference
between self-imposed social occupations and genuine free time is often very subtle
but can be illustrated with examples. An individual can decide to devote time to
reading poetry on a daily basis, but if one day he fails to do so he does not have
explain it to anyone since he has not established any external commitment. How-
ever, if a young person, with the same autonomy, decides to dedicate every
Saturday afternoon to being a child-group facilitator, he makes a commitment to
an external body. Therefore, if he does not show up on Saturday, he should
apologize and give a reason why. To put it another way, in self-imposed social
occupations the individual voluntarily gives up a portion of his available time to an
institution (philanthropic, political, trade-union body), and the management of that
time is transferred, to a certain extent, to that institution.
Finally, genuine free time can be further divided into three different kinds of
activities: nonautotelic voluntary occupations, sterile free time, and leisure in its
strictest sense. In a nonautotelic voluntary activity, the subject has absolute auton-
omy in deciding whether and how to carry out the activity, but the activity is not the
end in itself and performing the activity is not necessarily pleasant. An example
could be activities related to cultivating the body beyond that necessary to maintain
health. The difference between these and leisure activities is that the main motiva-
tion of the former is the achievement of something other than the gratification
offered by the activity itself. Those who devote a portion of their free time to lying
in a tanning machine do not always do so for the pleasure offered by this act but
rather to show off a tan.
Sterile free time is poorly lived free time, i.e., time that generates feelings of tedium
and frustration, a “whiling away of time” but with a bad conscience. It is called sterile
time not because it is not productive (because leisure is not productive either),
but because when a person does not produce anything, there is no satisfaction for
that person who has sterile time on his hands. Sterile time is time to which not even the
subject himself gives significance.
28.2.2 Three Basic Conditions of Leisure and Their Application to

Childhood
The concept of leisure refers to a type of activity rather than a type of time. Leisure
is closely related to free time, but the two should not be confused or considered to
be exactly the same. In this section, we first discuss one of the most classic and well-
known definitions of leisure, proposed some years ago by the French sociologist
J. Dumazedier; and second, we propose a more restrictive and coherent character-
ization of leisure in accordance with the preceding outline and considerations.
Based on a survey of individuals’ perception of leisure taken early in the second
half of the last century, Joffre Dumazedier (1915-2002) proposed the following
definition of leisure (Dumazedier 1960): “Leisure consists of a number of
occupations in which the individual may indulge of his own free will – either to rest,
to amuse himself, to add to his knowledge or improve his skills disinterestedly or to
increase his voluntary participation in the life of the community after discharging
his professional, family and social duties.” After stating that leisure is a kind of
activity or occupation, Dumazedier proposes one of its most essential characteris-
tics: its voluntary nature. To be considered a leisure activity, it must give the
individual the freedom to decide to do it or not. The definition goes on to give
the characteristic functions of leisure: rest, amusement, and development. Finally,
the definition establishes the conditions that make leisure possible. Leisure can take
place once the individual has freed a portion of his time from work, family, and
social obligations. Dumazedier’s definition thus offers a broader conceptualization
than that proposed by the previous outline since it coincides with what we call
available time. In this sense, a different way to characterize leisure is that it consists
of any activity in whose performance the following three conditions converge:
autonomy, autotelism, and pleasure/satisfaction.
28.2.2.1 Autonomy
We understand the first condition, which we call autonomy, but for which other
words such as freedom or voluntariness are also often used, in a twofold sense:
autonomy in the what and autonomy in the how. Autonomy in the what means
freedom to choose the activity. Thus, leisure presupposes the existence of free time.
He who has no free time – according to the characterization of the concept we
propose above – is unlikely to enjoy leisure. Autonomy in the how means that
during the activity the individual maintains control over its development and how it
unfolds. However, since these concepts (autonomy, freedom, and voluntariness) are
extremely complex and subjective, and to avoid falling into an idealistic or idyllic
view of leisure, we must add at least two additional clarifications. First, the
autonomy referred to is relative. It is obvious that as in any other aspect of life,
autonomy in leisure is never total. In relation to leisure activity, each individual
enjoys a defined level of autonomy that we call the “freedom field,” which is made
up of a variety of factors, discussed below.
Contextual factors. The context (family, social, cultural, geographic) gives the
subject a set of possibilities with which to fill his leisure with content. These
possibilities refer to the availability of spaces, resources, and products, as well as
to that of people with whom he can relate (peer groups, family, friends). Thus, the
freedom field of a specific individual’s real free time depends upon the range,
diversity, and richness of the set of possibilities that his context offers. As a simple
example, if someone lives in a tropical country, the daily practice of Nordic skiing
is not part of his freedom field.
Socioeconomic factors. While important, contextual factors often do not act
alone in determining leisure activity. In fact, what really affects this is the place
the individual occupies in the context, e.g., his social role or economic status.
Accessibility to certain leisure possibilities offered by the context also depends
on the individual’s ability to afford them economically.
Psychophysiological factors. Each person’s freedom field is limited (or enabled)

by their psychophysiological and evolutionary status. Leisure options vary
depending on each individual’s development, state of health, and so on.
Stereotypes and selective or discriminatory traditions. The leisure context also
includes a set of social codes, moral norms, customs, traditions, fashions, and
stereotypes that constrict real possibilities in the use of free time. Such codes
guide and sometimes impose (or deny) certain leisure pursuits according to vari-
ables such as gender and family role (e.g., “girls have to play with dolls, and boys
with toy soldiers”).
Educogenic factors. The personal and, in particular, educational background
(schools, family, and informal education) determine the leisure of each person.
Depending on this background, certain individuals will have the necessary aptitude,
abilities, skills, and disposition (or not) to make a leisure activity viable. There are
cultural and instrumental skills (languages, techniques, knowledge) and propensi-
ties that are necessary to be able to enjoy certain kinds of leisure. While a person
may be able to afford a certain activity, unless their previous education has instilled
in them a certain predisposition for that activity it is unlikely to form part of their
field of possible choices. A child choosing to read for leisure depends not only on
the availability of books or libraries but also on whether his or her education has
aroused a taste for reading.
Another point that needs to be made about autonomy as an essential condition
for leisure is that it must be understood as a subjective feeling of autonomy,
something akin to what Neulinger (2000) calls “perceived freedom.” Leisure can
be – and indeed often is – induced, manipulated, or alienated. Moreover, in this
sense and as is discussed later, leisure can be more subtly or subliminally induced
than other activities that are imposed in a direct or explicit way. However, to call
something leisure, the subject must at least have the subjective consciousness that
he is acting voluntarily, even when objectively and from the outside it may be
obvious that the individual is being heavily manipulated. At this point we are not
trying to define positive leisure, just leisure and nothing more. Consequently, while
the individual is aware, albeit incorrectly, that he or she has chosen leisure auton-
omously, even the most manipulated and unconsciously directed leisure is no less
leisure than leisure of the most personal, creative, and truly autonomous nature.
28.2.2.2 Autotelism
The second condition in defining leisure is autotelism, highlighted by Aristotle as
the most essential part of this concept. It means that the leisure activity has purpose
in and of itself (Cuenca 2004). Even when the activity can produce certain results or
material goods, and even when one of the individual’s motivations is to obtain such
an outcome, the first justification of the activity must be the intrinsic satisfaction
that it is able to produce. A person who likes fishing, if successful, obtains
a material product from the activity – a fish that he can eat or give to friends.
However, a pure leisure activity seeks no reward; it is partaken in because the
fisherman likes fishing and feels good when doing it. As is well known, many
fishing enthusiasts return their catch to the sea.
28.2.2.3 Pleasure and Satisfaction

This brings us to the third essential condition: leisure as a pleasant task, satisfactory
and fun. An unpleasant, boring, or tedious leisure activity is, if anything, simply
failed leisure; it is not really leisure at all but the sterile time discussed above. The
pleasure or satisfaction referred to here, however, should not be confused with the
most rudimentary or prosaic meaning of “amusement.” The leisure activity does not
necessarily mean laughter and revelry, it means being happy with what you are
doing. And leisure does not exclude effort. Those who devote leisure time to
solving intricate chess problems call upon a considerable amount of intellectual
effort, and the physical or psychological effort of those who climb mountains is no
less significant. However, both chess and mountain-climbing may well be consid-
ered leisure because despite being activities whose pursuit requires effort, they are
also enjoyable to those who participate in them.
To summarize, regardless of a particular activity, leisure consists of the use of
free time to engage in an autotelic occupation, autonomously chosen and
performed, whose practice is pleasant for the individual.
The concept of leisure must be applied to the different stages of life, taking into
consideration the specific parameters (especially social and psychophysiological)
that characterize each stage. Specifically, children’s leisure has two features that at
first glance appear contradictory: one that plays down autonomy and another that
would make childhood a privileged period for leisure.
If it is possible to establish comparisons between the different stages of life
based on the role played in each of them by the extremes of security-autonomy,
dependence-independence, or control-freedom, it is obvious that, in general terms,
during childhood the importance of or need for the first term in each pair is greater
than in subsequent stages. Psychogenic and physiological characteristics, socioeco-
nomic conditions, and legal frameworks constrict the possible autonomy of a child
in favor of protection and custody. These questions, which naturally affect all
aspects of a child’s life, are particularly relevant with regard to leisure. Physical
and mental immaturity, economic dependence, and laws that limit the legal respon-
sibilities of children define the possibilities for children’s leisure that render them
qualitatively and quantitatively different from those of an adult. In terms of an
absolute and somewhat idealistic concept of freedom, this would mean that the
level of autonomy in children’s leisure is lower than in the following stages of life.
However, even if that were true, it would be nothing more than a trivial finding
unless it produced more operational consequences.
The greater need for custody in childhood can be understood either as a restric-
tion on a child’s autonomy of leisure or, more positively, as a requirement for
a more appropriate form of protection and oversight of the child’s possible auton-
omy. Since this autonomy is more fragile, more easily manipulated, and more open
to arbitrariness exercised by persons and institutions that have control over child-
hood, appropriate mechanisms must be established to protect child leisure. Some of
these mechanisms already exist but are not always adequate. They are often ladened
with adult projections, double standards, and an excessively protectionist spirit.
Rather than actually protecting children’s leisure, these mechanisms limit and
reduce children’s leisure even more than may be justified or reasonable. Of course,
it is not easy to find the right balance between security-autonomy, dependence-
independence, and control-freedom, but if in all aspects of childhood the search for
such balance is necessary, in that of leisure it appears as one of the principal
educational challenges.
While it is true that children’s leisure is more constrained than that of adults,
paradoxically there exists a diffuse ideology that considers childhood a privileged
period for leisure and play. Indeed, a good deal of what constitutes the cultural
concept of childhood – which, according to the well-known thesis of Ariès (1996),
has been forged in the modern age – is made up of elements that are related to
leisure. Today’s concept of childhood is being shaped by progressive schooling, the
consequent distancing of the world of work, formation of the bourgeois nuclear
family, and other elements often closely related to leisure, e.g., specific clothes for
children, differentiation between child and adult games, the emergence of child-
specific literature, and so on.
This modern concept of childhood is basically represented through three addi-
tional images that place the child respectively in the school, the family, and at play.
Literature and iconography illustrate these three images corresponding to the three
fundamental roles in modern childhood: the “schoolchild,” the “child as son/
daughter,” and the “playing child.” Thus, the world of play becomes one of the
three fundamental contexts of childhood. And no sooner do we consider it a world
typical of that period, the social construct excludes all other periods of life from the
recreational world: adult play, for example, is thought of as childish, a residue of
childhood, or at best something accepted as a way of keeping physically and
mentally fit for work and thus subordinate to it. In this construct, it is most
appropriate for a child to learn and play and for an adult to work. Thus, according
to this modern view of the roles of each stage of life, the world of play – and by
extension, leisure – corresponds, in a privileged fashion, to childhood.
28.3 Leisure and Education
28.3.1 Justification of Educational Intervention: Values and

Countervalues in the Context of Free Time and Leisure
Social representations of free time and leisure have differed throughout history.
Both positive and negative images of leisure have been created. Leisure as some-
thing positive and desirable is how it was portrayed in classic Greece and Rome,
with different contents in each case. The ancient Greeks and Romans understood
leisure as a value, even as something dignified that could make life virtuous and
happy. Conversely, leisure has at various times been represented as just the
opposite, a countervalue, a vice, or the source of all evil. This is the Puritan concept
of leisure that dominated certain attitudes from the seventeenth century and is still
present today, though perhaps only residually.
In this sense it is interesting to note how certain reflections that tried to propose
a positive social image of leisure provocatively used the negative connotations
imposed by bourgeois Puritanism on such terms as laziness or idleness. In The Right
to Be Lazy (1880), Marx’s son-in-law Paul Lafargue argues that we should aspire
not to the right to work, but to the right to welfare. He began the first chapter of his
work with the following quote from Lessing: “Let us be lazy in everything, except
in loving and drinking, except in being lazy” (Lafargue 2002). In a 1932 essay
suggestively entitled In Praise of Idleness, Bertrand Russell wrote:
“Like most of my generation, I was brought up on the saying: ‘Satan finds some mischief
for idle hands to do.’ Being a highly virtuous child, I believed all that I was told,
and acquired a conscience which has kept me working hard down to the present moment.
But although my conscience has controlled my actions, my opinions have undergone
a revolution. I think that there is far too much work done in the world, that immense
harm is caused by the belief that work is virtuous, and that what needs to be preached in
modern industrial countries is quite different from what always has been preached.
Everyone knows the story of the traveler in Naples who saw twelve beggars lying in the
sun (it was before the days of Mussolini), and offered a lira to the laziest of them. Eleven
of them jumped up to claim it, so he gave it to the twelfth. This traveler was on the
right lines. . . . The wise use of leisure, it must be conceded, is a product of civilization
and education. A man who has worked long hours all his life will become bored if he
becomes suddenly idle. But without a considerable amount of leisure a man is cut off from
many of the best things. There is no longer any reason why the bulk of the population
should suffer this deprivation; only a foolish asceticism, usually vicarious, makes us
continue to insist on work in excessive quantities now that the need no longer exists”
(Russell 1960).
As we mentioned before, free time is basically like a container. It can host
values and countervalues, positive social functions, and other more dubious
contents, positive leisure and negative leisure all at the same time. Thus, it
would be realistic and reasonable to see that just as any other social reality in
a world of contradictions, free time and leisure are ambivalent and contradictory
realities.
Figure 28.3 summarizes some of the values ascribed to leisure and their
corresponding countervalues, which are discussed in the following sections.
28.3.1.1 Freedom, Autonomy, Independence versus Alienation,

Manipulation, Dependence, and Control
Free time is, as the name suggests, an area of freedom, a time when personal
autonomy should dominate when choosing an activity and how to do it. It is the
freedom in the “what” and the “how” mentioned above. However, it is also a time
for alienation and manipulation: alienation made more dangerous because we are
not generally aware of it. We all know only too well that work is usually subject to
someone else’s decisions or processes that we cannot personally control; yet at the
same time we may be under the impression that we do what we want in our free
time, when in reality it is a time often subject to hidden pressures, stereotypes,
fashions, and control.
VALUES COUNTER - VALUES
freedom, autonomy alienation, uniformity, manipulation
happiness, pleasure, amusement frustration, boredom, tedium
autotelism, disinterested knowledge ostentation, leisure merchandise
creativity, personalisation consumerism, mass production
isolation, lack of communication,

sociability, communication
negative solitude
activity, self-motivated effort passivity, indolence
culture cultural trivialisation
everyday values monotony, inertia
extraordinary values extravagance, the bizarre
solidarity, social participation lack of solidarity, indifference
Fig. 28.3 Values and countervalues of leisure and free time
28.3.1.2 Happiness, Pleasure, Amusement versus Frustration,

Boredom, Tedium
The other essential feature of a leisure activity is the satisfaction or pleasure
produced by its realization. However, free time is also a producer of dissatisfaction,
frustration, unhappiness, boredom, and tedium. Leisure activity can produce
dissatisfaction when we do not have access to certain products because the leisure
activity is something that creates want and at the same time is extraordinarily
selective and discriminatory. Frustration can arise from having high expectations
(e.g., about a holiday) that will never be achieved. Free time can also produce
unhappiness in the form of a guilty conscience generated by the still-present Puritan
work ethic because we are not doing something apparently useful or profitable.
Finally, free time (supposedly the quintessential time for pleasure) is occasionally
a time of boredom and tedium, sometimes because it is not easy to ascribe any sense
to such time since it is yet to be fairly valued by society, and sometimes because we
have not had the opportunity to learn how to use it satisfactorily.
28.3.1.3 Autotelism, Disinterested Knowledge (Value of Use) Versus

Utilitarianism, Ostentation, Leisure Merchandise (Value of
Exchange)
We have already seen that according to the Aristotelian concept, leisure is an activity
that has an end in itself. However, in contrast to this autotelic leisure value, there is
the countervalue of leisure as a form of ostentation, as shown by Thorsten Veblen in
his now classic work from 1899, The Theory of the Leisure Class: leisure as
a symbol of status, wealth, and power (Veblen 2004). An example would be one
who travels not for the pleasure of travelling in itself, but to show off that he can
afford to go to fashionable destinations. This leisure merchandise includes the free
time of those who use tanning machines or work out in the gym, not for health or
wellness but to show off their fantastically beautiful body. Countervalue also
includes the value of free time employed in activities and relationships by
those whose aim is to climb the social ladder. Leisure is thus perverted when its
ostentatious function predominates over its value of use and the very sense of the
activity itself.
28.3.1.4 Creativity, Personalization, Difference versus Consumerism,

Mass Production
It is said that leisure is also the most suitable time for exercising creativity, for an
occupation dominated by the highly personal nuance that each individual can give
it, a time for personalization, originality, creativity, and authenticity. However, the
opposite often occurs: leisure pursuits can be the most mass-produced, vulgar,
uniform, and mediocre of all human activities. It is not difficult to perceive the
real contradiction that leisure (the abstract kingdom of personalization) is some-
thing even more impersonal than work itself. It would be hard to find 100,000
individuals doing exactly the same thing at exactly the same moment at work, yet
this occurs regularly at a football stadium or when thousands are on the road
returning from a leisurely weekend, or millions of people are watching the same
TV show at the same time.
In regard to consumerism, we can see that not only has the consumption of
products and services and the use of institutions and professionals become essential
for leisure, consumption itself has become a leisure activity. Going shopping (or
window-shopping) and walking around the mall are considered leisure activities as
much as going for a walk, to the cinema, or to the theatre.
28.3.1.5 Sociability, Communication Versus Isolation, Lack of

Communication, Negative Solitude
Free time is a special time for social relationships and communication but it is also
a time when solitude (of the negative or unwanted variety) is even more obvious
and pathetic than in any other moment in life (Kelly 1983). The loneliest solitude is
what we feel when alone at a party, when we have no one to go out with on
a Saturday evening or to go on holiday with.
Likewise, there are other pairs of values and countervalues that fall into free
time: time for activity, self-motivated effort, indolence, and passivity, or, in con-
trast, time for frenetic, blind activism, culture, banality, and cultural frivolity; space
where the best of the everyday can be realized (relaxed relationships with others,
gathering for coffee, and the small, enriching hobbies we all have), as can the worst
of monotony, inertia, and routine; time too for the extraordinary, adventure, but also
fertile ground for simple extravagance; and finally, time for solidarity and social
participation as well as for indifference and not caring.
Free time is, therefore, an ambivalent and contradictory reality: a container filled
with the best and the worst contents, the best and the worst possibilities. Pedagogy
must begin to recognize it as such because it is precisely this ambivalence that
justifies educational intervention in leisure. If free time were an idyllic reality,
a world in which freedom, creativity, sociability, and solidarity truly predominate,
pedagogical action would be unnecessary if not hazardous: “If it ain’t broke, don’t
fix it.” If free time were the best of all worlds, there would be no reason to improve
it with education. The fact that free time leaves much to be desired is precisely the
reason that educational action is needed.
On the other hand, if free time failed to offer real expectations of social and
human development, pedagogy should not intervene either, and it would be better to
find a more suitable area for intervention (Kleiber 1999, 2001). The pedagogy of
leisure makes sense precisely because of the ambivalent reality of free time;
because leisure time is abounding in values and countervalues, in positive and
negative possibilities, in noble and harmful contents, and in which educational
action can help optimize. To achieve this, however, the educational intervention
would have no alternative than to make value choices, options that will promote
certain forms of leisure and reject others. That is perhaps why after highlighting its
virtues in general, so many experts who have studied the educational issues relating
to leisure end up qualifying it with adjectives: creative leisure (Csikszentmihalyi
2002), serious leisure (Stebbins 1992, 2007), humanist leisure (Cuenca 2000).
Without these or other positive adjectives, educational intervention in leisure
would be confused and aimless.
28.3.2 Purpose of the Pedagogy of Leisure
The relationship between education and free time/leisure is often approached on the
basis of the two concepts respectively referred to as “education in free time” and
“education for free time.” In the former, free time would simply be a space
that could be used to host some type of educational activity. In the latter, free
time becomes the educational objective. Both approaches are logically distinct
but not necessarily conflicting or contradictory. In analyzing them a possible area
of convergence can be seen (Fig. 28.4). When free time is taken as a space for
some educational process (education in free time), there are two possibilities: One
is that the process is oriented toward purposes that have nothing directly to do with
leisure, e.g., the child who has to devote some part of his non-school time to
receiving private classes. The other possibility is that the educational process that
takes place in free time is directed at developing some kind of knowledge, skill, or
attitude that allows the individual to use his leisure in a richer, more positive, and
pleasant way.
Something similar occurs when free time is understood as an objective (education
for free time). Two alternatives may also be considered in this case: that education for
free time can be achieved in typically leisure situations or in contexts outside that of
leisure, such as the school (Ruskin and Sivan 2002; Sivan 2008). It is conceivable that
Aimed at non-
leisure purposes
Education IN
free time
Aimed at leisure
purposes
Education
THROUGH
leisure
In leisure situations.
Education FOR
free time
In non-leisure
situations
Fig. 28.4 Relationship between education and free time. The purpose of the pedagogy of leisure
even in its curricular activity, the institution of school could include among its goals the
provision of cultural resources that enable richer leisure possibilities. For example,
the subjects of language and literature could be useful not only for learning spelling
or the history of literature, but also for developing the capability and sensibility to
enjoy reading.
Doubtless the core of the outline described above would constitute a more
specific justification of the pedagogy of leisure. That is to say, the most suitable
purpose of such pedagogy would be to educate simultaneously in and for leisure.
In fact, the combination of both approaches reinforces each individually. To use
free time for purposes contradictory to it, though perfectly legitimate, means
converting that time into something else; this free time evidently ceases to be
experienced as such. On the other hand, it seems that the best way to educate for
leisure is to do so in free time, in other words, through leisure. It would not
be necessary to insist on this if we were not so accustomed to forgetting the simple
core statement of active pedagogy: “What we learn is what we do.” The best way to
learn how to use free time in a very autonomous, pleasant, and creative way is
naturally through situations and activities that effectively make such conditions
a reality.
Thus, in a limited sense the pedagogy of leisure would be education through
leisure (that is, simultaneously in and for free time). In a broader sense, however, it
may also include the other possibilities mentioned in the full outline.
28.3.3 Factors in the Development of the Pedagogy of Leisure
Having described the general justification for educational intervention in leisure,

we now examine a number of factors that have motivated the emergence and
development of a diverse but quantitatively significant set of institutions, programs,
resources, facilities, and educational activities related to children’s free time. We
consider the reasons for the proliferation of free-time educational centers, toy
libraries, extracurricular activities, summer camps, scouts and guides, and a long
and varied list of other organized educational provisions in our society.
There are two reasons for the appearance and development of new educational
institutions or interventions. The first stems, in principle, from outside education
itself and consists of social, economic, demographic, and political factors. There are
educational needs that arise as a consequence of phenomena that initially have little
to do directly with education. A clear example is nursery schools. Centers for
early-childhood education were first created not so much for educational needs
but rather for custody. It was the incorporation of women into the work world
outside the home that caused the need for such schools. It is from there that
the pedagogical discourses began to emerge to legitimate on the one hand and
implement on the other this form of infant education. Applying this idea to the other
end of life, the same could be said of the increasingly cited and demanded
“pedagogy for the elderly.” Interventions and programs with educational content
addressed to senior citizens have not appeared because only now have we discov-
ered that the elderly can continue learning (this has always been known), but
rather because of factors as far from pedagogy as the increase of life expectancy
or the advancement of the retirement age. In short, pedagogical actions are often
responses to situations produced by factors that are not initially directly related to
education.
It is also true that this kind of sociologistic explanation for educational inter-
vention does not entirely address its raison d’être. Social factors explain the
emergence of the need for and characteristics of a certain area of action, but they
cannot account for the peculiarity of the educational response that such need
receives. In order to prepare a response, pedagogy has to be theoretically and
technically prepared. It is for this reason that clarification of the genesis of new
educational interventions also demands recourse to the internal pedagogical dis-
course, to its conceptual and theoretical basis, to the technical background it has
accumulated, and to possible antecedents that prepare and facilitate new educa-
tional actions.
28.3.3.1 Social Factors

Among other possible factors outside the field of educational science that have
converged to create the need for educational institutions addressing children’s free
time, there are two that are particularly relevant and paradigmatic. One is the
gradual disappearance of traditional spaces for spontaneous play and the informal
horizontal socialization of children, and the other is the partial loss of the family’s
role in safeguarding and giving content to their children’s leisure.
It is hardly surprising that the pedagogy of leisure was originally

a fundamentally but not exclusively urban reality. It was in cities where the need
for playgrounds, toy libraries, and organized summer activities urgently arose. This
was primarily due to the very young being increasingly deprived of their traditional
spaces for play and peer relationships. Traffic and safety issues expropriated the
street from children, and land speculation and excessive construction did the same
with other natural spontaneous play spaces (vacant plots of land, nonurbanized
areas). It is true, however, that play can be adapted to environmental conditions.
Moreover, the conditions themselves often become the reason for or means of the
recreational activity. The city, as Jane Jacobs (1961) brilliantly described in The
Death and Life of Great American Cities, with its streets and squares, markets and
shops, neighbors and passers-by, trees and pavement, has served as a stimulus,
argument, playing field, hideout, and place for adventure for children’s spontaneous
amusement. However, despite this huge capacity for play to adapt, which materially
and symbolically transforms any environment into a space and object for play, there
is a point where conditions become so adverse that this proves impossible. The city
then becomes a dangerous and hostile place for the child (Tonucci 1997). It is true
that the sight of children playing in the street is disappearing from the urban
landscape, thus creating the need for alternative scenarios: toy libraries, enclosed
and expressly designed playgrounds, or commercial recreational spaces.
Another major social factor that has created the need for children’s free-time
educational institutions is the family. Certain transformations in family life have
resulted in the reduction or loss of some of the family’s traditional functions in
relation to children’s leisure. In addition to being an economic unit and the heart of
affective relationships, the traditional nuclear family was a leisure community, i.e.,
the framework in which a good deal of its members took part in free-time activities
together. School and the nuclear family became established as the two main
institutions for children’s custody and education. But while the school played
a minor role in the direct provision of child leisure activities, the same could not
be said of the family. For the very young – and to a lesser extent the slightly older
child – the most significant natural setting for their leisure was in the family
environment. Directly or indirectly, and for better or worse depending on the
case, the family was the most relevant authority to guide, enable, and give content
to children’s free time. Control over and responsibility for children’s leisure rested
traditionally within the family institution, which shaped both everyday leisure
activities and those weekly or annual routines (weekends and holidays).
This picture of family leisure has been changing in parallel with other alterations
taking place in that institution. Women’s work outside the home, a significant
relaxation of relationships within the family, progressive disengagement of the
conjugal family (parents and children) in relation to other family members (grand-
parents, uncles, aunts), the quest for higher levels of personal autonomy for each
group member, or the diversity of today’s family models (reconstructed families,
single-parent families) are factors that have blurred the image of the family as
a leisure community. It is true that the family is still important in this task, but
a series of educational institutions has appeared to take over the family’s role.
Summer camps, children’s clubs, extracurricular activities, and the like now
assume the functions related to children’s free time that were previously carried
out within the family structure.
28.3.3.2 Pedagogical Factors

The previous section offers examples of social factors at the root of the need for
free-time educational institutions, but to enable them to be developed and extended
there must also be a relevant pedagogical discourse that legitimizes and justifies
them. This is examined in the following section.
Broadening the Concept of Education

One of the most significant theoretical evolutions to have taken place in pedagogy,
especially since the second half of the twentieth century, was the broadening of the
concept of education and, consequently, extending the possible range of intentional
educational interventions. On the one hand, there has been a vertical extension:
From considering childhood and youth as almost the only stages at which we are
susceptible to education, we have moved to accepting, without reservation, that we
are receptive to teaching throughout our entire life. The concepts of lifelong
learning and continuing or recurrent education for adults, and even the elderly,
are now commonly accepted in the education sciences. Another expansion has been
horizontal. The concepts of nonformal and informal education (and others that are
parallel or similar such as open learning and extracurricular education) demonstrate
the idea that education extends far beyond the strict confines of the school (Trilla
1993b). If we accept these concepts, we cannot ignore the educational scope of the
design of play spaces and materials, free-time educational centers, and, in general,
the wide range of institutions and resources that will shape an entire field of leisure
education.
Recognition of the Role of Play in Development

Recognition that play is an essential activity for childhood development is another
factor that legitimizes the pedagogy of leisure. This is not the place to review the
many explanatory theories used to justify the pedagogy of leisure, but it is necessary
to highlight the fact that almost all psychological theories about children’s play
stress the importance it has in child development. Since the theory of K. Groos, who
explained that play is a preparatory exercise for adulthood and which he considered
a spontaneous mode of self-education, all subsequent authors on the subject
(W. Stern, S. Hall, E. Claparede, F. Buytendijk, K. B€uhler, J. Piaget, and the
psychoanalytic theorists) have emphasized one aspect or another but they accept
the role of play in development (Elkonin 2010). Some, like Vygotsky, go even
further by considering play a “basic factor of development” and a “conducting
activity that determines the child’s development” (Vygotski 2001, pp. 154-155).
Play is not the only free-time activity, but it is one of the most paradigmatic,
above all in early childhood. Thus, recognition of recreational activity as a factor in
childhood development necessarily had to strengthen the refinement of pedagogical
reflection on free time.
Growing Appreciation of the Values Traditionally Marginalized by School

The school as an institution traditionally has favored the intellectual over other
learning dimensions of the individual. However, the pedagogical requirement of
a comprehensive education that omits none of the facets of the human being and
harmoniously strengthens each of them is now dated. The idea of integral education
is a long-standing pedagogical aspiration that school has rarely satisfied in practice.
This institution has focused on cognitive aspects, while in the curricula and practice
in general the presence of emotions, sociability, artistic expression, or even physical
education (other than the few exceptions that simply prove the rule) have tradition-
ally occupied a secondary and subordinate role.
If the integral education discourse served to reassess a series of personality
aspects such as those mentioned above and the educational institution par excel-
lence, i.e., the school, failed to assume them to a satisfactory extent, other areas or
educational institutions should have assumed them on a supplementary basis.
However, the school, or at least the “traditional” school, was reluctant to accept
a set of values that were being updated ideologically, such as spontaneity, auton-
omy, creativity, relationship with the environment, and so on. The organizational
models of the traditional school (rigid, fossilized, bureaucratic, and hierarchical)
and their methodologies (rote learning, passive, decontextualized) were, in fact, the
antitheses of the values that the most advanced pedagogy was demanding.
In short, the theoretical overview of pedagogy was growing with a set of new or
recovered goals and values that conventional educational institutions failed to
properly address. What was being asserted was that the cultivation of creativity,
sociability, self-expression, and autonomy would perhaps be more in keeping with
a kind of educational institution or medium that had free time as a sphere of action.
Thus, it is a fact that leisure educational institutions have championed the values
mentioned above. On occasion they have assumed them in the belief that they
should do so as a necessary complement (or supplement) to the school.
Formulation of the right to education in free time

Article 24 of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, adopted by the United
Nations in 1948, already established the right to the leisure: “Everyone has the right
to rest and leisure, including reasonable limitation of working hours and periodic
holidays with pay.” The definition of this right in the case of children, as established
in 1959 by the United Nations Declaration of the Rights of the Child, explicitly linked it
to education. Principle 7 of the Declaration, devoted specifically to education, states the
following: “The child shall have full opportunity for play and recreation, which should
be directed to the same purposes as education; society and the public authorities shall
endeavour to promote the enjoyment of this right.” In the update of the document which
led to the Convention on the Rights of the Child adopted in 1989, also by the United
Nations, an entire article is dedicated to children’s leisure. Article 31 states that
“(1) States Parties recognise the right of the child to rest and leisure, to engage in
play and recreational activities appropriate to the age of the child and to participate
freely in cultural life and the arts. (2) States Parties shall respect and promote the right
of the child to participate fully in cultural and artistic life and shall encourage the
provision of appropriate and equal opportunities for cultural, artistic, recreational and
leisure activity.” Furthermore, many nations have incorporated explicit references to
the children’s right to leisure and education in their free time into their own legislation
(constitutions, and educational, social, and cultural laws) (Lázaro 2006).
Obviously, the legal recognition of a right does not mean that in reality the
necessary conditions exist for everyone to exercise it, let alone have equal oppor-
tunities to do so. Social and economic inequalities in the formal educational system
are certainly the same or probably even more so for free-time education. Nonethe-
less, it remains true that these legal formulations regarding education in free time
have contributed to the social endorsement of this educational area and to the public
bodies that are gradually assuming their responsibility in relation to it.
28.4 Specific Areas of the Pedagogy of Leisure
28.4.1 Institutions, Programs, Activities, and Resources
As we have seen, educational activities related to free time can take place in a very
wide range of institutions, programs, facilities, activities, and resources. In fact, all
the educational contexts and mediums that have a bearing on the use that individ-
uals make of their free time should be considered areas of the pedagogy of leisure.
The simplest way to organize the existing diversity of these areas is to divide them
into two groups: specific and nonspecific.
Specific areas of the pedagogy of leisure would be all those institutions and
activities that are simultaneously specifically educational and specifically linked to
free time, i.e., institutions expressly created for the purpose of educating through
pursuits that are characteristic of leisure. This group includes toy libraries, educa-
tional activities for holidays, children’s free-time clubs, and certain extracurricular
activities. Nonspecific areas would be those that are not specifically educational and
are not specifically linked to free time, i.e., school, family, and leisure industries.
The school is a specifically educational institution but, except at specific times, does
not act through free-time activities; leisure industries obviously address free time but
are more accurately characterized by their economic and commercial components
than by the components potentially connected with education. As nonspecific
mediums have already been widely and expressly discussed in other chapters of
this book, we present the most significant specific institutions, activities, and
resources in the following sections (Calvo 1997; Puig and Trilla 1996; Trilla and
Garcı́a 2002).
28.4.1.1 Children Clubs and Centers for Free-time Education

Children clubs and centers for free-time education refer to a wide range of institu-
tions that have different names according to the traditions of each country but they
explicitly approach free time as an area for educational intervention and assume it
in an overall fashion. They do not specialize in just one kind of leisure activity such
as toy libraries or other institutions which we discuss below. Children centers are
constituted as spaces for meeting and a range of activities, with the presence of
facilitators (professionals or volunteers) and where the users are usually children
from the same community. There are basically three types of children centers:
(1) those that operate on a weekly basis, (2) those that operate on a daily basis, and
(3) those that operate only at specific times of the year (mainly during school
holidays).
Despite the organizational and institutional diversity and the variety of peda-
gogical methodologies they may adopt, perhaps that which best characterizes this
type of educational institution is the collective leisure dimension that they facilitate
and encourage. Without eliminating the possibility that a child may choose some
individual leisure activity while at the club (reading or playing alone, for example),
the purpose of this institution is to be a place of encounters. If these children’s clubs
have any justification it is to provide the option of collective play, activities that
require company and reciprocity, cooperative leisure, building peer relationships,
and shared projects.
28.4.1.2 Holiday Educational Activities Performed Outside the Child’s

Place of Residence: Summer and Overnight Camps,
Excursions, Volunteer Camps
As reflected in the section heading, in this section we bring together a variety of
children’s free-time educational activities that share the characteristic of taking
place outside their usual place of residence. Despite their limited duration (gener-
ally 10-15 days), they have relevant educational potential that can be summarized
by the following characteristics:
1. Intensity of the experience. These are short but remarkably intense experiences
as they encompass the totality of the child’s life, 24 h a day. In terms of time,
they represent a total educational situation. This requires a more comprehensive
pedagogical approach than other, part-time leisure educational institutions.
2. Opportunity of educationally addressing the everyday. From that described
above, these activities include a variety of everyday life situations (meals,
sleeping, down time) which are omitted from possible pedagogical interventions
in other educational institutions except in the family or at boarding school. The
treatment of everyday events as an area of meeting primary needs is one of their
most important educational dimensions.
3. Temporary separation from the family environment. For the child, these activ-
ities mean experiencing temporary separation from the physical, emotional,
relational, and regulatory bastion of the family environment. For younger chil-
dren, this may be an important moment in the necessary and progressive process
of reducing family dependency. The subject experiences a different model of
time management, relationships, and so on that provides a more objective
perspective of their own customary family model.
4. Contact with a different environment. For the city child, a stay at a summer camp
offers the possibility to know the rural world first hand and to have direct contact
with nature. Since these activities are not limited to city children, they always
represent a change from the child’s own environment, with a broadening of his
or her horizons, with all that it may mean (e.g., ways of life, customs,
landscapes).
Other formats also exist in this group of educational activities, e.g., thematic
summer camps where all the activities revolve around a certain area of interest (e.g.,
sport, music, ecology); volunteer camps where the “holiday” dimension makes
room for carrying out some form of service, whether social, agricultural, or
archaeological in nature; or treks (walking, cycling), which would be something
akin to travelling camps.
28.4.1.3 Playgrounds and Recreational Open Spaces

Though we must continue to insist that urban policies, where possible, adopt as one
of their objectives the recovery of streets and public squares as favorable places for
spontaneous play, this does not deny the fact that it may often be necessary to adapt
open spaces to ensure that children have the opportunity to play outdoors. From
a pedagogical perspective there are two fundamental criteria to consider when
designing play spaces: they must be based on the real requirements of spontaneous
play and they must stimulate and enrich such recreation.
In regard to the first criterion, it must be said that any intervention to set up play
spaces and their equipment should be based on knowledge of the reality of
children’s play. Direct observation of spontaneous games is a necessary source of
information in designing a truly functional park. The needs of different age groups
must be taken into account when determining the size of the space and its elements.
Younger children must be able to play with earth, sand, and water, and depending
on the location of the park, they should do so in a more or less protected space. It
would be appropriate to have conventional play elements at their disposal (e.g.,
slides and swings) as well as multipurpose structures that can be turned into a house,
hideout, or shop counter. Older children will require more open spaces where team
sports can be played, an element that entails a certain amount of controlled risk.
Nonetheless, just as we mentioned above that it would not be appropriate to isolate
leisure spaces too much, it would also be unadvisable to separate play areas
according to different age groups. Interactions between children of different ages
are always enriching. Younger children try to imitate and emulate older children’s
play through observation; older children learn to respect the play of the young.
The design of the park must awaken new and richer play possibilities. This can
be achieved by shaping the land (e.g., level changes, slopes, vegetation, hideouts,
ponds, water channels, places for skating and biking, roundabouts and porches) and
the incorporation of certain elements such as structures, trampolines, tunnels, walls,
and painted signs on the floor. In general, spaces and components that allow for
multiple uses are preferable to those that are for special use. One of the virtues of
spontaneous play is the adaptation and symbolic and/or physical re-creation that the
child does with places and materials.
Parks or adventure playgrounds also deserve special mention. These are spaces
whose main characteristic is their intentional lack of specific order or explicit
structures. They are expressly designed desert islands in an urban environment. In
this kind of park, children enjoy absolute freedom in their use of the space and
usually have rudimentary materials at their disposal with which to build cabins,
hiding places, and so on. They are a way of facilitating the components of
experiment, adventure, secret, and apparent disorder that the group games which
children play often possess.
28.4.1.4 Play Centers and Toy Libraries

The playgrounds we have just discussed satisfy a part of the child’s need to
enjoy adequate spaces for recreational activity. However, there are games
that require another type of equipment and special facilitators such as toys. Play
centers were created to provide this space and to expand the usability of these
facilitators.
The first toy library seems to have been opened in Los Angeles in 1934. In 1960,
UNESCO popularized the idea and since then they have spread worldwide.
In addition to their primary function (i.e., to provide an adequate public space
with good toys for children’s recreational activity), toy libraries usually serve other
purposes related to play and education: guiding parents on the purchase and use of
toys, the creation of new play materials, encouragement of activities and collabo-
ration with other neighborhood institutions, and testing and assessing industrial
toys. Of course, toy libraries also address the tasks directly derived from their
primary functions, such as the selection of toys based on quality, hygiene, and
educational criteria; the cataloguing, repair, and maintenance of toys; and guidance
and help provided by facilitators in the use of toys.
As with outdoor playgrounds, an important aspect of toy libraries in relation to
their function as a social service is their location. The characteristics inherent in
their use make them a type of facility that must be easily and readily accessible,
which means their distribution should be decentralized. Rather than a few
macrocenters that entail a long journey to get there, it would be more beneficial
to establish a good network of small and medium-sized toy libraries that reaches
numerous neighborhoods and villages.
28.4.1.5 The Scout Movement

Founded in 1907 by the British military officer R. Baden Powell, scouting has been
one of the most popular child and youth movements in the world. Originally it
accepted only teenagers, but in 1914 admission was extended to include younger
children, and girls had their own scouting group in 1912. Leaving aside the (in
some cases) significant ideological and religious differences and nuances
that numerous national and international scouting associations have incorporated
into the movement, there is remarkable unity in the underlying principles and basic
methodologies of the scouting associations. In fact, scouting constitutes a complete
civic education program that has been enjoyed by thousands of young
people over generations. Though scouting is still a significantly active movement,
crises have been arising for some time over some of its more formal aspects such as
uniforms and rituals. On a deeper level, issues have also arisen because of certain
resistance to the much-needed methodological renewal that the movement’s
material and ideological transformation requires. Despite this, as far as our
subject is concerned, it must be said that the emergence and development of

many other free-time educational initiatives has been used the techniques, experi-
ences, and people from scouting. Scout movements have covered and still cover an
important space in the framework of free-time educational interventions.
Some of the traits that mark other areas of the pedagogy of leisure (e.g., summer
camps, free-time clubs) are perfectly applicable to scouting. There is, however, one
fundamental difference: diverse methodologies, doctrines, and pedagogical
models usually emerge in other expressions of the pedagogy of leisure; in contrast,
scouting is in itself an entire educational methodology. Moreover, it is
a methodology based on and fueled by an explicit and well-defined philosophy
of life and education.
28.4.1.6 Monothematic Activities, Facilities, and Leisure Resources

Grouped under this heading are all the associative entities created to encourage,
usually altruistically, some particular artistic, cultural, or sports specialty during
free time. Members or practitioners of these kinds of activities partake of them
more for their content than for some utilitarian purpose. This does not prevent high
standards and demands being achieved on many occasions. In any case, the
enjoyment and satisfaction, which are the essence of any leisure activity, are
never lost. Examples are children’s choirs, folk groups, theatre groups, amateur
sports teams, and excursion groups. This category also encompasses a realm of
extracurricular activities that take the form of courses or workshops on a wide range
of subjects, including visual arts, dance, music, new technologies, yoga, and
languages. We should also include such institutions and facilities as libraries,
museums, zoos, and other cultural installations that usually offer specific programs
aimed at filling children’s free time through their educational sections or
departments.
28.4.2 Shared Structural and Functional Characteristics
Though educational institutions, mediums, activities, and resources for free time
are quite broad and diverse, they have some shared characteristics which we
examine in this section.
A heuristic resource to identify the characteristics of a certain educational area
consists of identifying their differences from another area. Since the school has
been and still is the educational institution of reference, it is not surprising that it has
often been used to characterize, by contrast, that which is typical of free-time
educational institutions. Thus J. Franch (1985, p. 22), warning of the danger of
oversimplification inherent in this type of formula, proposed the comparative table
in Fig. 28.5.
Taking into account the information of the chart above (Fig. 28.5) we will
discuss the general characteristics that are more significant in free-time educational
institutions, beginning with the most structural or organizational elements and
continuing to the more functional or methodological aspects.
SCHOOL FREE-TIME INSTITUTION

Its function is to ensure a common cultural base It allows for diversification in the ways of
for all. participating in culture.
In this sense, it acts as a levelling mechanism. In this sense, it acts as a diversification mechanism.
The essential content of the school’s message is The essential content of the free-time institution
the transmission of codes and concepts and focuses on completion and deepening of the
abstraction from those elements. experience, and on the elucidation of specific
meaning.
The interpersonal relationship is normally, at most, The interpersonal relationship is promoted as an

tolerated. essential condition.
The planning of activity projects does not usually Activity projects are usually planned by children.
involve children.
The code used is language and logic. There is no single code. On the contrary, the
tendency is to use a variety of different
instruments for expression and creation.
The experience that takes place is selective. The experience that takes place is overall.
It has its own boundaries of time and space. It also has its own time and space boundaries, but
they are different, and this difference carries
significant consequences.
Fig. 28.5 Differences between the school institution and free-time educational institutions
(Franch 1985)
28.5 Structural Elements
28.5.1 Reduction of External Requirements
Compared with the school, free-time institutions have a substantially lower number
of external determining factors and expectations. Their degree of relative autonomy
therefore is higher. This reduction in external requirements is seen in such aspects as
1. Lack of compulsory and standardized study plans, curricula, and programs.
Thus, each institution, movement, program, or pedagogical intervention is able
to develop its own goals and methods with quite a high level of autonomy.
2. Fewer legal and bureaucratic conditioners. Since free-time educational institu-
tions are a relatively new area, a body of law and bureaucracy that excessively
restricts their institutional operation has yet to be developed.
3. Reduced social and family expectations. As the school is still the main educational
institution in our society, together with the family, a high and ambitious number of
social expectations fall on its shoulders, justified or not. Besides fulfilling its most
primary function (the transmission of a basic cultural background), school is also
supposed to meet varied expectations such as disciplinary functions, act as
a platform for social mobility, and remedial actions in addition to any new specific
needs that may appear on the educational landscape (e.g., sex education, health
education, environmental education). In contrast and perhaps due to their limited
and as yet not entirely socially legitimized presence, free-time institutions face
lower expectations from society and specifically from families. Apart from reason-
able health and safety requirements in their role as guardian and ensuring that the
children find a pleasant environment that meets certain minimums of education,
parents do not usually demand much more of free-time institutions. This leads
to certain negative components (depreciation of their value and educational possi-
bilities, for example), but also entails positive aspects such as greater autonomy and
flexibility to undertake projects more in line with their conception.
28.5.2 Less Institutional Inertia
Since they do not have long and established institutional and operational traditions,
free-time educational centers are able to develop without the burden of inertia that
is associated with the institution of the school. They are more easily receptive to
new situations, allow less sclerotic action, are best suited to the context in which
they operate, and are generally more open to methodological innovations. In return,
they have high levels of instability and of lack of continuity.
28.5.3 Diversity of Institutional Forms
The school is a remarkably uniform and monolithic institution. Except for some
substantial differences (i.e., public or private, traditional or progressive), all schools
are quite similar. The landscape of free-time institutions is very different. Their
diversity lies as much in management forms, funding, and institutional dependence
as in objectives, projects, and pedagogical methods.
28.6 Methodological and Functional Aspects
28.6.1 Emphasis on Relations and Groups
Although the school constitutes a collective situation, it has traditionally been

characterized as leaving the development and educational treatment of sociability
in the background. In contrast, leisure institutions have always tended to emphasize
interpersonal relationships. Providing suitable spaces, times, and environments for
collective play, the creation of groups and the exchange of initiatives are tasks
usually considered a priority in the pedagogy of leisure. Likewise, the conflicts that
arise from living together in a community constitute educational opportunities of
the greatest pedagogical interest. The relational aspects are highlighted when we
find that a good number of the pedagogical debates addressed in free-time
educational institutions refer to such issues as group size and formation (natural or
imposed groups, homogeneous or heterogeneous in terms of age ) and the level of
children’s participation in deciding and managing the agenda.
28.6.2 The Specific Learning Contents as a Medium
Free-time institutions have prioritized the (let’s say) educational (behavioral and
attitudinal aspects) over the instructive (contents and intellectual skills). With respect
to the instructive, greater emphasis has been placed on the concrete than on the abstract
and the conceptual. As free-time institutions are not expected to cover curricular
requirements, the contents and specific skills to be learned are not seen as the main
objective but usually as necessary elements in the performance of activities or projects
with a wider scope. In this way, specific learning, which undoubtedly also takes place
in such situations, is carried out in a much more contextualized and active way.
“Learning by doing,” the slogan of pedagogical activism that progressive pedagogues
have tried so hard to introduce into the school, is the natural consequence of the very
identity of free-time institutions. In these institutions the learning content always
depends on the activity to be performed, i.e., the order of factors is the inverse of
that of the school. In schools, learning contents are always predetermined by the
programs, from which the appropriate activities are designed to achieve the most
effective learning. In contrast, in free-time institutions it is the activity itself that
determines which skills and what knowledge must be acquired for its proper perfor-
mance. The process of acquiring such contents usually takes place through practice.
This is true even for those free-time educational activities in which greater emphasis is
placed on the need to acquire and perfect certain skills such as choir singing, dance,
and competitive sports. Note that in these cases the very names of the learning
processes – rehearse, exercise, and train – directly denote the intrinsic link between
the act of learning and the practice of what the individuals are learning.
28.6.3 Possibility of an Educational Approach to the Everyday and

of Gestation of the Extraordinary
Free-time situations are often opportunities that allow for educational moments in
everyday life. The formal nature of school impedes it from acting on these appar-
ently simple or routine instances in individual and collective life (sleeping, dress-
ing, meals, cleaning tasks, shopping, idle moments, informal interactions). In
certain free-time educational activities, the everyday sector of life is not marginal,
but something on whose functioning rests a good deal of the success and educa-
tional projection of those activities.
Naturally, revaluing the everyday does not exclude enhancing the extraordinary
and leisure situations are equally appropriate for this purpose. It is also the task of
the pedagogy of leisure to instill in children the capacity of collectively creating
alternatives to the monotonous and routine passage of time. A predisposition to the
occasional exploit which is out-of-the-ordinary and an inclination toward
adventure, imaginative conduct, or creative action are values that can be cultivated
in free-time with fewer restrictions than in other educational situations. After all,
the extraordinary is memorable, and the memorable, if experienced positively,
makes the learning achievement far more enduring.
28.6.4 Hosting and Facilitating the Development of One’s Own

Projects
The above-mentioned external impositions mean that the activity of school children
is generally heteronymous; it is determined on the basis of previously and exter-
nally established programs and contents. In some cases these activities have been
preceded by some motivational process that to a certain extent can make them
attractive and interesting. Certain school pedagogies have attempted to connect
learning processes with the interests that children are able to express in an open and
receptive school environment. Such is the case of active pedagogies, the project
methods, and Freinet’s work plans. In free-time educational institutions, however,
embracing children’s interests, wishes, or initiatives must necessarily become one
of their methodological constants. This is not simply a question of embracing or
giving free rein to the expression of such interests but of facilitating the design and
preparation of the resulting activities and projects. This is one of the important
aspects of adult educational intervention through leisure institutions: to provide
a suitable framework for the performance of simple free-time activities that can be
carried out autonomously by children and to enable the realization of more complex
projects arising from the very dynamism of the groups (Franch and Martinell 1994).
28.6.5 Immediate Relationship with the Environment
Free-time educational institutions usually have been characterized as being more

deeply rooted in the immediate environment than the school. Traditionally, the
latter has had a kind of centralizing isolationist inclination, closing in on itself,
a tendency to distance itself from its surroundings (Trilla 2004). In contrast,
free-time educational movements from the outset have followed a contrary
direction (in this sense, scouting may be very paradigmatic). Knowledge of
the environment (natural, social, urban, cultural) and active participation in it
are usually predominant goals in the educational practice of these institutions
(Casas et al. 2008; Hart 1997; Trilla and Novella 2001).
28.7 Epilogue
Throughout this chapter we have advocated the need to intervene educationally in

children’s free time. Now, to conclude, some caveats are necessary to avoid
misinterpretation.
We have stated that one of the main purposes of free-time educational interven-
tion is to enrich leisure experiences. However, scrupulous respect of one condition
in this intervention is required: the leisure activity in which there is educational
intervention must continue to be truly experienced as leisure. In other words, the
educational intervention must respect the three essential aspects we attributed to
leisure: freedom, autotelism, and pleasure.
28.7.1 Leisure and the Joyful Use of Useless Knowledge
In the book In Praise of Idleness, Bertrand Russell promoted what he provocatively

called “useless knowledge.” In an accelerated historical review, the English
philosopher noticed certain moments in which knowledge was given a value
that was not solely utilitarian. He paused, of course, on the Renaissance when,
in his own words, there was “a revolt against the utilitarian conception of
knowledge . . . Learning, in the Renaissance, was part of the joie de vivre, just as
much as drinking or love-making. . . . The main motive of the Renaissance
was mental delight. . .” (Russell 1960, p. 17). Later, Russell warned how in
today’s time (as true in his day as in ours) “Knowledge, everywhere, is coming
to be regarded not as a good in itself, or as a means of creating a broad
and humane outlook on life in general, but as merely an ingredient in technical
skill” (Russell 1960, pp 19-20). Education for leisure should therefore defend
this disinterested knowledge, this autotelic value of culture as a source of
delight which, after all, was the genuine meaning of leisure in Greek culture
(Morgan 2006).
28.7.2 Pleasure, Risk, and Self-control
In their now classic work on Sport and Leisure in the Civilizing Process, Elias and
Dunning (1986) discovered a close relationship between leisure, risk, and pleasure.
They explained how recreational leisure activities
“. . .constitute the acceptance of some risk. They tend to defy the strict regulation of the
routinized life of people. . . . They allow people to relax or to ridicule the rules that govern
their non-leisure life. . . . They imply that one ‘plays with the rules’ the way one ‘plays with
fire’. Sometimes they go too far. . . . In recreational occupations, apparently antagonistic
feelings such as fear and pleasure not only oppose each other (as it ‘logically’ seems), but
are inseparable parts of a process of recreational enjoyment. . . . In this sense, no satisfaction
can be obtained from recreational pursuits without small doses of fear alternating with
pleasant expectations, brief shocks of anguish alternating with other feelings of pleasure.
. . . This is the reason why different types of excitement play a central role in recreational
activities. And only in this way is it possible to understand the ‘de-routinizing’ function of
leisure. Routines entail a high degree of security. Unless we expose ourselves to a little
insecurity, to having something more or less at stake, the routines we have embodied in us will
never loosen, we will never be able to rid ourselves of them, even temporarily, and the function
of recreational activities will be lost” (Norbert and Dunning 1992, pp. 127, 134–135).
So according to Elias and Dunning, the deroutinization that forms part of the
nature of many leisure activities entails the social and personal assumption of
a certain level of risk. This risk can overflow easily; an excessive risk can appear
that exceeds both social and individual minimum security thresholds. It is then that
certain systems of regulation are needed. Basically, two types of systems exist to
channel or restrain the excessive risk that leisure can bring. The first type would be
legal and social, e.g., restrictions on alcohol or drug consumption, police security
mechanisms. The other type of risk control system is what interests us here because
it is the one that refers directly to education. Learning risk control involves self-
knowledge (knowing our own limitations, possibilities, and expectations), will
power (to guide action in accordance with our intention and conscience), respon-
sibility (knowing and assuming the consequences of our actions), and the capability
of self-control. Leisure implies risk and therefore requires self-control, a faculty
only education can help develop.
28.7.3 Freedom to Choose or Freedom to Project and Build
Education should also contribute to developing a deeper sense of freedom. We

often understand freedom in leisure as the freedom to choose from predetermined
options: one show or another, this TV program or that, any of the many video games
available on the market, a brand of clothes, one distraction or the other. This is the
freedom to choose from what the market has to offer – the freedom to choose
products – which undoubtedly constitutes a degree of freedom, but it is still a poor
freedom and educationally too simple. The freedom that a pedagogy of leisure
should enhance is not only that of choosing products, but also of choosing paths and
processes i.e., the freedom to conceive and conduct our own projects; the freedom
to build leisure and not only to consume it.
28.7.4 Ensuring the Availability of Noninstitutionalized or

Controlled Free Time
To educate for leisure and in leisure means to facilitate learning about how to use
free time. Learning that concept curiously seems to be achieved by dispossessing
the subjects of their own time. Here lies the kind of hyperinstitutionalization of free
time that children are often exposed to: a time almost entirely occupied by extra-
curricular activities, facilitators, coaches, babysitters, private teachers, classes and
courses of any kind, and other forms of custody. It is as if we wanted to prepare for
the good use of free time by turning it into something alien, by distancing it.
Educating for leisure requires maintaining or, given the case, restoring sufficient
doses of this time that is not allocated in timetables or restricted by institutions: the
time that some have described in these words: “The clock – Ernst Junger said – does
not form part of the forest. Neither does it form part of the world of lovers, games or
music. The hours the spirit spends in leisure or devoted to a creative work, these
hours the clock does not measure. . . . Deep down it is a matter of a demand for
freedom in areas we have not yet tamed.” “Our enjoyable and pleasant occupations
are precisely those in which we pay no attention to measured time. . . . Children play
until they are called or get tired. They play until the sun goes down. . ..” “Recreation
is greater the less we watch the clock” (Junger 1998, pp. 13, 14, 26, 28). A child’s
quality of life does not consist of trying to fill free time with institutionalized
recreational activities. It is necessary to ensure the presence of a time for truly
free and autonomously generated activities as well as the existence of appropriate
contexts for horizontal socialization without the direct guidance of adults. It would
be a matter of preserving (or perhaps recovering) those moments in which our
children can also receive, like the boy from Stevenson’s tale mentioned at the
beginning of the chapter, their own informal lessons of “peace and contentment.”
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Crı́tica.
Play and Well-Being in Children’s Life
29
Jan Van Gils
29.1 Introduction
It is not the aim of this chapter to contribute to the discussion on the definition of
play, neither the objective is to offer an overview of Huizinga’s, Piaget’s,
Vygotsky’s, and Sutton-Smith’s theories of this world. However, this chapter
clarifies what is meant by children’s play.
Later, different kinds of play and the effects of play for children will be described,
ending with an overview of elements that promote or inhibit children’s play.
The second part of this chapter will focus on the relationship between children’s
play and children’s well-being. The intent is to describe moments and situations
and contexts where play and well-being meet each other, where they influence
each other.
29.2 Play: Two Approaches in One Concept
In general two approaches to play can be distinguished. Play can be seen as:
– Characteristic of children’s being related to development of several qualities (the
developmental approach)
– Characteristic of human beings related to enjoying life, being creative without
a productive objective (the cultural approach)
There is a great consensus that both approaches are complementary, while the
developmental approach is more typical for children’s behavior and the cultural
approach is for all human beings. However, most of the authors have a special
interest for one of the aspects.
J. Van Gils
International Council for Children’s Play, Mechelen, Belgium

896 J. Van Gils
The first approach is based on a vision on children’s development stressing

children’s need to find their own place in the surrounding world. In Vygotsky’s
terms, it is a “corollary of a basic instinctive trait of human nature, namely, the
instinctive motivation to seek social contact and maintain part of
the (social cultural) world with others” (Van Oers 2011). This world is – at his
birth – an unknown environment in which he has to position himself. It includes that
the environment has to be explored – the material world in all his aspects – the
smell; the color; the weight; the feeling; how to handle it; how to use it; how
sturdy it is; how soft and strong are water, earth, wind, and fire; how are animals
and plants, etc. Also the social world has to be explored: how important are
other people, how to contact them, how to please them, how to convince or
dominate them, how to love them, etc. And within this environment, even
the child has to explore himself: his possibilities; his limits; how strong, fast,
creative, and kind he is; and what are his capacities to interact with the
environment.
This process of giving meaning to himself and the environment is very important
as such, but at the same time a lot of capacities and characteristics are developed: as
there are the development of the intelligence, of the motor and the sensory-motor
skills, of social skills, of the self-esteem, etc. Of course in this development –
besides play – also the biological evolution and genetic factors have a lot of
influence. But to play stresses the agency of children in this development: while
playing children contribute to their own development (Elbers 2011), children are
participating in their development. And that is in the relation to well-being very
important.
In educational contexts – where external inputs are dominating – this process is
conducted to well-defined objectives, for example, to the development of musical
qualities or to a sport or to an empathic attitude (with varying success). Most of the
time (during leisure and in periods that adults do not use to say what the child has
to do), the child is the actor in the playing process. He decides himself what, where,
with whom, how long, with what material, etc., he will play. Most of this play
behavior is passing between and even during other activities: while washing
themselves, while eating, while watching television, etc. They are jumping from
one activity to another one, children often are doing undefined activities, and they
call them “play” (Van Gils 1991). The drive to play is an intrinsic motivation:
children do it because they want to do it.
The second approach starts from the definition of humans as cultural beings.
Cultural behavior is very varied, but a part of it can be called play. Most known
is theater: the actors in the theater are called players; also people active in sports
often are players. It means that they are acting besides the daily serious reality:
certain norms are not applied longer such as being productive, earning money,
and respect of hierarchy. There is more space for fantasy, for fun, for humor, for
enjoying, etc. Looking at these illustrations, these activities have – within our
economic-oriented society – a marginal position: they are isolated within the
leisure time. On the other hand, some authors plea to see play more as a quality
of the way of living (Kane 2004). Especially in the last context, but within the
29 Play and Well-Being in Children’s Life 897
Play
Commitment
Creativity
Agreement
Voluntary
Flow
Uncertainty crystallized
Improvisation organized
Spontaneous structured
Fig. 29.1 Play on the continuum improvisation – structured
global cultural approach, there is, next to the noun “play,” a need for an
adjective – playfulness – as Huizinga also said (Huizinga 1997).
You can say that, after being grown up, these activities are what rests as
a remnant of a child’s past (Bergen 1998) and that nevertheless differs from it.
This playing behavior is more crystallized, more circumscribed, and besides
a strong intrinsic motivation, there is also an extrinsic motivation at stake.
Both approaches can be placed on a continuum with on the one hand uncertainty
and improvisation and on the other hand time-related imperatives and rules; in
common they have creativity, agreement, and not compulsory (inspired by Lavega
1998). On the common characteristics “commitment” could be added. We do not
add pleasure not on the common characteristic nor on one of the approaches,
because even if pleasure is often a quality of play, it is not always; play can also
be very hard: a boy who is exercising, exploring, and developing his capacities to
handle a skateboard makes a lot of efforts that are more characterized by “com-
mitment” and by “flow” than pleasure. However, pleasure can be seen as an
objective of play but in that sense we prefer the word “satisfaction”: play offers
a lot of satisfaction which often can be linked to pleasure. Another common
characteristic is the agency of the players. Players are active, are changing and
adapting their behavior, and are filling in their activity; it is never a routinely
behavior (Fig. 29.1).
29.2.1 Play in a Broader Context
The continuum is useful to clarify the evolution of the approach of children’s play
in the last decennia. After World War 2, there was an explicit awareness on the
importance of children’s play. Learning from the observations of children at play in
the ruins after frequent bombing, persons such as Lady Allen of Hurtwood (1968)
stimulated the organization of incidental play, playgrounds without leaders,
adventure playgrounds, and neighborhood playgrounds. But this movement was
not up to the trend to use play for explicit educational objectives. More attention
went to organized play activities as far as they could be integrated into educational
activities. This is called the pedagogization (Depaepe et al. 2008) of children’s
898 J. Van Gils
play: the more children’s play is discovered, the more it is recuperated by adults and
integrated in educational processes.
The continuum is also interesting because it clarifies the evolution of young
children’s play to adult’s play. In children’s play, there is more attention for
uncertainty, for exploring your capacities, and for learning, while in adult’s play,
there is more exploitation of capacities. However, it is a continuum and as children
can exploit their capacities, also adults can explore them, but in general there is an
evolution from improvisation to organization.
Also in the pedagogical praxis, this continuum can be recognized. The educational
intervention becomes – with the age of the child – more directive. It starts by
stimulating children’s self-directed play for babies and toddlers, and it evolves in
the direction of educational and therapeutic use of play at the age of 6 years. Roberts
also notes it in terms of more assimilation in early childhood and more accommoda-
tion in middle childhood (Roberts 1980).
This approach clarifies also the perturbation when data on the evolution of
children’s play are recognized. So there is the evolution of less playing in public
space: in Flanders, Belgium, the presence of children in public space in their living
environment was halved during the last 25 years, with an evolution from
diminishing creative play categories in favor of play categories related to move-
ment (Van Gils et al. 2008). And it is well known that during the last decennia
children spend more time and on a younger age on crystallized play activities.
The concept of play, used in the UN Convention on the Rights of the Child
(art. 31), lays on the side of crystallized behavior as it makes an explicit relation to
rest and regeneration after work and to cultural activities. It might be seen as a bias
of the convention. Today, a general comment on the CRC regarding play is in
development. It might be expected that it will result in a more balanced attention for
the developmental and the cultural approach.
29.2.2 Different Forms of Play
The overviews developed by Bergen (Bergen 1998) and Hewes (Hewes 2007) are
interesting as starting points to get a quite general overview of different forms of play;
their work has been supplemented on some points (Johnson et al 2005; Elkind 2007).
Age range of greatest

Kind of play Description incidence
Exploratory play/ Very young children explore objects and 0–2.5 years
object play/sensory environments – touching, mouthing, tossing,
play banging, and squeezing. Sensory play appears in
children’s early attempts to feed themselves.
As they get older, materials like playdough, clay,
and paint add to sensory play experiences
Dramatic play (solitary Many young children spend a lot of time engaged 3–8 years
pretense) in imaginative play by themselves throughout the
early childhood years. They invent scripts and
(continued)
Age range of greatest

Kind of play Description incidence
play many roles simultaneously. Toys or props,
e.g., dolls, cars, action figures, and cloths, usually
support this kind of play. As children get older,
they create entire worlds in solitary pretense
Construction play Children begin to build and construct with 3–12 years
commercial toys (LEGO, tinker toys, blocks),
with found and recycled materials (cardboard
boxes, plastic tubing), with a variety of modeling
media (clay, playdough, Plasticine), and most of
all with sand. Older children play for extended
periods with recycled material (tires, shelves, rags,
etc.) to build huts, castles, etc. Children across the
age range engage in this kind of play by themselves
and in groups, often combining it with episodes of
solitary pretense or sociodramatic play
Physical play Sensorimotor play begins as young infants 3–12 years
discover they can make objects move. Physical
play in the preschool years often involves
rough-and-tumble play, a unique form of social
play, most popular with little boys. Rough-and-
tumble play describes a series of behaviors used
by children in play fighting. Older preschoolers
and primary school kids engage in vigorous
physical activity, testing the boundaries of their
strength by running, climbing, sliding, and
jumping, individually and in groups. This kind
of play often develops spontaneously into
games with invented rules
Sociodramatic play, Pretend play with peers – children take on social 3–12 years
imitation, symbolic roles and invent increasingly complex narrative
play scripts, which they enact with friends in small
groups
Games with rules, Children begin to play formal games in social 5 – . . . years
sports games groups. These games have fixed, predetermined
rules, e.g., card games, board games, traditional
games, soccer, and hockey.
Children also invent their own games and/or
modify the rules of traditional playground games
in their self-organized playgroups
Speech and language Children are playing with sounds, cries, and 1- . . . years
songs: they experiment with it. While growing
up, it becomes more and more complicated.
Youngsters go to poems. Humor takes an
important place in this category
Computer games Since the 1980s, also computer games take a firm 4- . . . years
place in play; keywords are violence, fantasy,
pro-social behavior, eye-hand coordination, and
addictive
900 J. Van Gils
29.2.3 Effects of Children’s Play
The effects of children’s play can be ordered in four big categories; these categories
are quite artificial as many times a concrete play activity has characteristics from
more than one category. Not all these effects are the fruit only of children’s play;
some effects also can be reached by training or by therapy. You only can estimate
the extent to which they are caused by playing.
29.2.3.1 Sensory-Motor Development and Physical Health

Playing children develop a lot of fine and gross motor skills while running,
climbing, jumping, using sticks, etc. Doing so, they are exploring and developing
their sensory-motor capacities, varying from simple acts (catch a toy) to
complicated actions (riding a bike). They are looking for physical challenges
(yes, I can climb this tree) and for their own position compared to others (I am
faster than you). They are enjoying their movements, their body, their agility, and
their capacities.
At the same time, they develop their muscles, their condition, their endurance,
their respiratory system, their brains, etc. It has a positive influence on health.
It does not solve health problems, but it contributes to a healthy life.
29.2.3.2 Emotional and Psychological Development

While playing, there are a lot of emotions at stake. The most striking emotion is fun.
Children are enjoying their play: they laugh and cry, they jump and sing, and they
dance and have fun. They find satisfaction and express it. But to play is not always
funny. There are very stressful moments, for example, the moment that the child is
not sure if it is able to make a nice sand castle when the sand is always sliding away.
Also the competition while playing can be hard: to lose the battle is not funny at all,
but even the discussions on “what shall we play” are not always pleasant. Playing
children are handling these feelings often in an “as if” situation which is safer as
a “serious” competition.
To play different roles offers also possibilities to explore emotions as taking care
of someone (while playing with puppets) and being angry. By imitation, children
learn to understand feelings, to express them, to react on feelings of others, etc.
29.2.3.3 Development of Sociability and the Self

The informal social network of children refers first of all to the family and secondly
to the peers (within or outside pedagogical provisions). Within these networks,
children experience and develop social connectedness and at the same time
awareness of themselves: the self within the social environment. This process
takes place in and during all activities of children in contact with other people
and, thus, not only while playing. Especially in contacts of young children with
adults, there is a constantly jumping back and forth from play to reality. In the
contacts with peers, there is more space for experiments with less consequences
for real life. However the underlying process is as follows: children are learning to
communicate, to negotiate, to please, to convince, to give, to cooperate, to resolve

conflicts, to respect, to lose, to defend oneself, etc.
This learning process can be seen as a process of giving meaning, a process by
which you learn about the characteristics of matter: it is difficult to catch water with
your hands, a stone is hard and cold, and a car is faster than a bike. The child learns
very early that sand has to be wet if you want to build a castle with it, and a child
learns to ride a bike and to operate the television: so this sand, this bike, and this
television have a very specific meaning for this child. At the same time, the child
learns about his own skills to handle the sand, to control the bike, and to look for
another TV program. The child learns if he or she is smart, fast, kind, strong,
popular, etc. – the child is giving meaning.
29.2.3.4 Cognitive Development and Learning

The process of giving meaning is strongly connected to learning. Mostly, it is a
nonformal process of learning in the sense of not intentional. But the brains have
a very important function in it, and thus the development of the brains. This is the
world of imitation, imagination, language, logic, etc.
While singing and reciting rhymes and while discussing and leafing through
a book, they are discovering the wonderful world of words and language. They
enjoy to invent new (stupid, for them funny) words and even languages.
They decipher characters and affect the difference between reality and fantasy.
They discover up and under, left and right, light and heavy, and cause and effect
(some of the basic concepts of mathematics).
29.2.4 Play-Stimulating Factors
Play-stimulating factors do not function as separate factors. In fact it needs

a climate, a play-promoting climate which is a complex set of many factors
that have to work synchronized. To disrupt that process is easier as to
build it up. Three factors can be distinguished: freedom, safe environment, and
other people.
Freedom – An important play-stimulating factor, or even a condition to play, is
freedom. A more concrete terminology could mention free will, autonomy, freedom
of action, internal locus of control, etc. Children need the opportunity to decide
themselves about their activities (Van der Kooij 2007). This freedom is strongly
influenced by the living conditions. Children need to have time, space, and toler-
ance to play.
1. Children have to dispose on their time. A well-known saying said play starts
where the decisions of adults about the activities of children end. To illustrate it,
we refer to the place of the recess time in the school activities, to the time needed
for homework, to children who have to work or who are forced to attend
additional educational activities, etc. However, children are very clever to find
some “loose time” between two organized activities, so they play while going to
902 J. Van Gils
school, they play in their bed, and they even play while eating. But in order to
find this loose time, there has to be some tolerance.
2. Children have to be allowed to play, at home, in the school, on the street, in the
shopping center, in the car, etc. This freedom of choice (Van der Kooij 2007)
depends on the approach of parents to play and on the approach of the
educational staff and of the public opinion and the politicians; in fact it depends
on the vision of adults on children and on growing up and thus on play.
3. Finally, children need space to play: at home, in school, in the living envi-
ronment, in public space, etc. This space needs to have some qualities. It has to
be varied, accessible, safe, and challenging. We are talking about toys,
furniture, play equipment, light, aeration, color, etc. Some of these qualities
might seem contradictory: environments that are challenging or adventurous
are not without risks, and such risks might suggest insecurity. And indeed they
are not safe on the same way as an elevator has to be safe: a lift should not
pose a threat, through the eyes of the children a play environment should be
challenging, risky. On the other hand, the risks should not be hidden and
children should note the risks. There has to be a balance between safety and
risks. Also, variation should not be overwhelming: too much visual, auditory,
and sensory stimuli make children nervous and impede to choose a play
activity.
Safe Environment: A safe environment has to be defined from both the viewpoint
of adults and the viewpoint of children. For children the environment needs to have
a sense of security; it means children have to feel safe. This feeling is quite different
on different ages, for example, toddlers feel safe as long as a parent can be reached
by calling, crying, seeing, etc. For young children, it is important that adults are
within the reach; in very crowded places, the real presence of adults can be
important. On the other hand, in some cases the absence of adults contributes to
the safe feeling, just because of the lack of control; in this case, the term “feeling
comfortable” is more in its place and is quite near to the freedom of choice
mentioned earlier. And so we meet the safety paradox on children’s play. In
many play activities, children are looking for some risks: they are looking for
things and activities they do not know yet and they are exploring their capacities
(and meanwhile confronted with their limits); it included that they take risks which
they can estimate or which they cannot overview. So, from the viewpoint of
children, a playful environment includes risks. But, and here the paradox is at
stake, our society is more and more obsessed by safety being the absolute control
over all risks and they expect the play environment should be safe on the same way
as the elevator: there should be no risks at all. This approach does not fit with the
children’s approach. However, the adults have much more power as the children, so
a lot of play spaces and other spaces that could be made playful for children are as
safe that they are boring.
The challenge is to combine the concerns of adults with the need of risks of
children which can be done by avoiding all risks children cannot estimate, hidden
risks on the one hand and by an attitude of adults being aware that children besides
safety also need to learn to handle risks.
Other Children: The presence of other children is a very stimulating factor for
children’s play. Of course children also are playing alone, but playing with other
children offers more opportunities, because there are more ideas about what to do.
The social interaction of children enlarges the play opportunities, the challenges,
and the variety of play. Other children make the play environment a lot
more challenging and attractive. So other children are not only important for the
development of social attitudes but also for the fun of play.
29.2.4.1 Play-Inhibiting Factors

The play-inhibiting factors that can be identified directly are a lot of persons
hindering children to play (parents, teachers, neighbors, etc.), lack of time (other
activities have priority), and lack of space (also here, other activities have priority).
The very concrete implementation of these factors varies from child to
child. They are difficult to handle because they mostly have underlying structural
causes.
The structural causes at the base of the inhibiting factors are (Lester and
Russel 2008):
Environmental stress due to poverty: Family stresses, housing conditions,
poorer social networks, and outdoor physical environment do not support
playing. A lot of poor children were complaining about not having the
opportunity to play (computer) games, because their parents were always on
the computer.
Culture of fear and risk aversion: Fewer children per family make children more
valuable; society entrusted parents with more responsibility, better information
about risks and how to avoid risks. Most attention goes to safety in traffic and
social safety.
Inappropriate design of the public space with more attention for economic goals as
with human well-being: Also specific provisions as recreation areas and parks
are not always welcoming for playing children.
Difficulty to be part of society in the public realm: Children have to stay indoors and
have limited options for meeting up and hanging out with friends. This has to do
with the culture of fear and with the inappropriate provisions.
Commercialization of play: You have to pay to visit indoor playgrounds; creation of
crazes and combining commercial initiatives with play are not negative as such
(some initiatives are very creative and playful) but quite expensive (video games).
Climate of priority of intentional learning activities to activities without
clear (educational) objectives because of the utility orientation of our society:
In order to prepare children to live in this utility-oriented society, all their
activities have to contribute to useful capacities. This prioritizing is based on
the belief of education and the manufacturability of children.
Institutionalization of childhood: More institutions are created to organize childcare
and child education, first of all because of economic reasons (both parents have
to work), secondly for safety reasons (culture of fear), and only in third
place because of children’s needs.
904 J. Van Gils
29.3 Play and Well-Being
To organise the reflections on the relation of play and well-being, it is helpful

to distinguish objective and subjective conditions of well-being (Ben-Arieh
et al. 2001). There are some basic conditions of children’s well-being that can be
observed and compared to each other and that are not related to feelings.
The subjective well-being “acknowledges that individuals evaluate the quality of
their own live” (Lester and Russel 2008). Within this group, three broad themes
emerge: emotional well-being, psychological well-being, and social well-being.
This can be illustrated by looking for play in some extreme bad situations of
objective well-being: in such situations, children simply do not play. On the other
hand, once children are playing, this play behavior contributes to their (subjective)
well-being. But as this subjective well-being has different components, the relations
of play with well-being will not always be the same.
29.3.1 Play and Objective Well-Being
Factors such as poverty (housing, environment, social network) are recognized as

having a strong negative influence on objective well-being and affect in a negative
direction the play: in certain circumstances, they make play impossible. A child
who is starving will not play, neither will a very ill child, but every parent knows
that when the child is playing again, it is recovering. Expecting – on the other
hand – the child’s play should have a constructive influence on such factors would
be very naive. It seems to suggest that child’s well-being has to reach a basic level
before play comes into the game and that from that point, it has even a positive
impact on (subjective) well-being. This suggestion might refer to the hierarchy of
needs, as Maslow describes (Maslow 1970): In his approach the need to play is not
situated at the basic needs at the bottom of his pyramid.
But there are also very bad living conditions in which play opportunities
can have an important role. UNICEF – see the numerous illustrations on the
Internet – increasingly understands that in major disasters, such as earthquakes
and war, play still is possible and even that children need to play in such situations.
Play opportunities offer them the chance to give the disaster a place in their
own experience. One can also think that the game is the perfect distraction from
the disaster, but more important is the process of giving meaning. In the terminol-
ogy of Maslow, this is a part of “self-actualization.” Play gives children the
opportunity to contribute to their self-actualization; it is the instrument at their
disposal to master (partly) their own development and to contribute to their own
process of growing up and to their actorship/agency. In this case of objective
negative well-being, play is turning it over into possibilities to develop subjective
well-being.
A similar approach can be recognized in play therapy in which play is the tool to
unlock some entries to (subjective) well-being.
29.3.2 Play and Subjective Well-Being
29.3.2.1 Play and Emotional Well-Being

The contribution of play to well-being is quite well known. It is applied in many
commercials with images of laughing, singing, and dancing children. It is the play
behavior endlessly observed and photographed by parents (and grandparents); it is
the classic image of happy children, which is often recognized as the externalization
of well-being.
And while playing, children often feel happy; they enjoy life, their body, their
capacities, and their environment. They are very concentrated, they push their
limits, they acquire their world, and they make fun.
It is a more instantaneous approach of child well-being, focusing on the mental
well-being, feel good status, and happiness. It is a status that can be recognized
by satisfaction, enjoyment, internal rest, showing vitality, openness to the
environment, spontaneity, positive feelings about yourself, etc. This aspect of
well-being is often the only aspect that is taken into account when talking about
children’s play, but the relation between play and well-being is more fascinating
especially when other characteristics of play activities are coming on the scene: the
efforts play is asking, the discomfort, and even frustrations provoked by play.
More concrete, children can feel very tired while digging holes and walking with
the dolls, they do not feel fine when they fail to climb a tree or build a tree house,
when they lose a game, when they are bored at the end of an activity, when they
are hurt, etc., but however it is part of the game.
On the other hand, also well-being is influencing children’s play. Freedom
(free will, autonomy, freedom of action) as a play-stimulating factor is an important
aspect of subjective well-being: in enjoying freedom, play and well-being are both
stimulated.
29.3.2.2 Play and Psychological Well-Being

To illustrate the psychological well-being, the concept of resilience is very
helpful. This concept helps to deepen the idea of self-actualization related to
well-being. This multifaceted concept refers to the capacity to do well in the
stressful situations. With Vellacot (2007), we prefer to use this concept here in
a more general context (not only in stressful situations) meaning and focus
more on the genesis of resilience and thus to the dynamics of the development
of every child (Van Gils 2005). In the image “la casita de la resiliencia”
(Vanistendael and Lecomte 2002) (house of resilience), five rooms (factors) can
be recognized: the base of the resilience of a person is the fundamental acceptance
of the person which is the core of the social network. It is the base of every well-
being: every child needs at least one person by whom he is accepted uncondi-
tionally and who is accepted by the child to be such a person. Another layer is the
capacity to discover sense and meaning. The creation of the concept of resilience
is strongly influenced by observing children growing up into strong persons in
spite of extreme situations of adversity they experienced; in such situations, to
906 J. Van Gils
Social
Self-esteem Humour
capacities
Giving of meaning
Informal social networks

Accepted unconditonally acceptance
Fig. 29.2 House of resilience
discover your potential of meaning is so inspiring. To discover meaning is what

every child is doing from the beginning of his life until his death: in this case, we
do not restrict “to discover meaning” to the ultimate sense or nonsense of life but
we include the sensory-motor activities by playing, the linguistic activities by
experiencing with sounds and words and sentences, the ethical exploration on the
value of interpersonal relations, etc. – all these are activities that children do while
playing. The third layer is composed by self-esteem skills and competencies and
humor. These are the results of the supporting social network and the discovering
of sense in interaction with each other and with genetic predisposition. Under the
roof, attic is space for any other experiences to be discovered. Where the whole
concept of resilience is referring to well-being, especially the roof of discover
meaning, refers to children’s play.
An interesting characteristic of this resilience concept is that it takes into account
how children are developing and how children are important and active partners on
their development (Van Gils 2005), especially by giving meaning on which play
plays a very important role (Van Gils 1995) (Fig. 29.2).
It does not mean that children are able to give meaning all by themselves and
independently from others in every situation. In a lot of situations, children need
some support. Play therapy can help children to overcome some problems of giving
meaning by offering them some incentives to express their feelings or to tell some
experiences or situations they were not able to sort out properly. Play provisions as
toy libraries, play work, and childcare also support children by enriching their
environment with material and immaterial incentives, by offers of play leaders, and
not at least by bringing together several children that all are potential playmates.
And at last also parents stimulate children’s play by giving them appropriate
playthings and time and place to play.
29.3.2.3 Play and Social Well-Being

The higher mentioned aspects of well-being are more focused on the child as an
individual. But a human being is more than an individual; it is also a social being.
So, also social well-being needs to be discussed. Aspects of social well-being often
cited are supportive relations and belonging (Barry et al. 2009). How are these
related to play?
Even while play is not always a social activity, it is quite often an occupation in
which other children and/or adults are involved. Especially other children (peers)
play an important role. They are partners in the activity. While playing, they are
negotiating about how the activity will be organized: with what material and where
and how, etc. Especially in the self-directed play, but also in games, this process of
negotiating is going on during the whole activity; it is even part of the play activity.
The process of giving meaning as higher described is here also at stake. Children
need other children to compare themselves to, to get feedback, to build a realistic
self-image, to join forces, to deal with the fun, to be courageous in exploring and
transcending limits, to imitate, and to pick up knowledge. The social aspects of play
offer the opportunity to develop social capacities and to deal with several feelings
which both open the door for supportive relations and for feelings of belonging.
The same feelings of belonging children have when they are playing with their
parents. It opens the parent-child relation to aspects as relaxation, unintentional
education, etc. It contributes to the quality of the relation in line with mutual loyalty
and belonging together.
Children living in poverty are complaining about their isolation at school and on
the streets, of having no friends to play with, or, even worse, of being bullied. They
feel quite uncomfortable with it. A similar isolation and connected feelings children
living in poverty have regarding the access of play and other leisure opportunities.
For that reason, they are looking for peers, congeners to play with. Children can find
them in clubs, organizing aside of childcare initiatives, and also in play provisions.
Young people who do not live anymore under the wings of their parents are
organizing their own activities. They find each other at school and on the street
and they organize their meetings and leisure activities themselves, with the
well-known so-called nuisance. It does not mean that children are not able to play
alone, but playmates are enriching the play environment and create more play
opportunities. However, poverty is influencing play opportunities.
Another aspect and contact point of play and social well-being is the develop-
ment of a peer play culture. Play culture refers first and foremost to games that
during a period are very popular. There are folkloric games as playing with marbles,
knucklebones, knock chestnut, and rope jumping that appear and disappear; the
rules are changing a little bit, but the games remain recognizable. Other elements of
the play culture are influenced by (new) popular toys as the hula hoop and
908 J. Van Gils
skating (different forms) or by popular culture as songs, clothes, decoration of

bikes, comics, and books. And there are also the fruits of the technological
evolution (Lester and Russel 2008): games, computers, mobile phones, MP3,
etc. Commercial impact in these cannot be denied. A quite different aspect of the
play culture are the public spaces where children and young people meet each other:
they claim the ownership on a corner where they meet before to bike together to
school, or on certain place in the train station, or on the market place. Once again
such claims are not always appreciated by other people, but exactly these conflicts
confirm their own identity. The whole play culture (the difference with child culture
or youth culture is not easy to make) expresses the need for a common group
identity, different from adults, different from other age groups, and different from
groups with another ethnic and/or social background. This is very explicit for young
people in the age that they are looking for their own place in the society and that
they want to belong to the society, without accepting all the roles and rules the
society is prescribing.
29.4 Conclusions
1. Play and well-being are both multifaceted realities; both can be described, but to
define them definitely seems to be impossible. Play is difficult to define, because
it includes very different appearances and at the same time the subjective
elements (intentions, experiences) are very hard to be observed. And well-
being too has so many subjective connotations, and it is, unlike playing, not
describable in terms of behavior. The concreteness of both is different. The
consequence is that to describe the relation of well-being and play is a big
challenge.
2. Well-being is influencing children’s play, because a basic dose of well-being is
necessary to permit children to play. This dose has to do with health: a starving
child or a very ill child will not play. Play as such will not contribute to these
basics of well-being.
3. Children’s play is influencing children’s well-being as play is their way of
being: the dynamic in children’s lives is in their play. By playing, they are
who they are, giving meaning to themselves in the world/society, and they
become who they are by developing their capacities and their relations. These
aspects belong to subjective well-being, more especially to the psychological
well-being.
4. Looking at the play-stimulating factors, they are aspects of children’s well-being
too. Freedom, safe environment, and other children are positive factors both in
well-being and in play stimulating especially as it concerns the spontaneous
self-directed play and the relation to subjective well-being in all these aspects.
It illustrates how children – while playing – contribute to their own development,
including their well-being. It is a tool they deserve themselves. It does not mean
that they realize it as individuals or as social category; undoubtedly, children

need and mostly enjoy some support by parents, play leaders, etc., as long as
they do not inhibit play: they belong to the play environment.
5. Not all play behavior is contributing to well-being. Sometimes, at the personal
level, play is frustrating and at that inhibits children’s well-being. Play can also
be destructive at the social level: vandalism, bullying, etc., cannot be considered
contributions to well-being, neither for the actors of it nor for the victims.
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Sport, Children, and Well-Being
30
Yngvar Ommundsen, Knut Løndal, and Sigmund Loland
30.1 Introduction
In Western societies children’s participation in sport has for long been a widespread
leisure pursuit. With “sport” we refer to a variety of physical activities including
organized training and competition in sport clubs, self-initiated play, spontaneous
games, exercise, and various kinds of extracurricular school-time physical activi-
ties. Following Article 1 in UN Convention on the Rights of the Child, “children”
(in this chapter used interchangeably with “young people”) refers to people up to
18 years of age (United Nations 1990). Whereas traditionally children’s psychoso-
cial development and well-being has received scant attention from researchers,
there seems to be a recent vitalization of this research agenda within sport science
as well as within other academic fields. Within sport research there are several
reasons for the renewed interest.
Firstly, there is evidence that the obesity epidemic poses a threat to children’s
overall physical and psychosocial functioning, well-being, and health (Rocchini
2002) and that sport in various formats has a role to play in combating this health
threat (Lyell et al. 2007). Improved theoretical frameworks have stimulated several
researchers to advance the empirical field in this respect (Blanchard et al. 2009;
Ryan and Deci 2000).
Secondly, a strand of research has begun to emphasize the role played by
children’s physical-motor functioning and activity levels for cognitive functioning
and academic performance in school (Biddle and Asare 2011; Fedewa and Ahn
2011; Keely and Fox 2009; Trudeau and Shepard 2008).
Y. Ommundsen (*) • S. Loland

The Norwegian School of Sport Sciences, Ullevål Stadion, Oslo, Norway
K. Løndal
Oslo and Akershus University College, Oslo, Norway

912 Y. Ommundsen et al.
Thirdly, originating in social capital theory (Putnam 2000), a body of research

has been generated on the assigned role of sport to solve social problems and as
a major instrument in social policy (Vermeulen and Verweel 2009). The focus is on
the potential of extracurricular community sport programs as a preventive mecha-
nism against antisocial behavior and as securing well-functioning integration of
young people into society in general (Eccles et al. 2003; Mahoney and Stattin
2000). The possibility for well-being effects of young peoples’ social connected-
ness with nonparental adults as mentors has been particularly emphasized
(Grossman and Bulle 2006).
Research on children’s sport and well-being demonstrates a series of complex
relationships and hence the need of systematic and critical studies (Whitelaw et al.
2010). In the following we will provide an overview of relevant research and topical
questions.
30.2 Chapter Focus
The chapter starts with sketching briefly the sociocultural background of children’s
sport and how these activities have been interpreted and valued historically. We
then encircle various formats and contexts in which children do sport today. We
proceed by offering a conceptualization of children’s well-being and elaborate on
various definitions and approaches with relevance for children in sport. A focus on
sport as an arena for various dimensions of children’s well-being follows, thus also
setting the stage for an overview of empirical studies of well-being outcomes. We
discuss physical, mental/psychological, as well as social well-being. While physical
activity and sport may be defined in various ways and take place in various formats
and contexts, we deal primarily with well-being outcomes of participation in
organized, adult led sport for young people, and generalized context-free physical
activity. This is due to the fact that these are the most common activities among
children and also the most investigated from a research point of view. We conclude
by reflecting upon current developments in youth sport and their potential for well-
being outcomes.
30.3 Sport for Children: Background and Justification
According to cultural historian Johan Huizinga, play and games are at the very core
of human culture and as old as culture in it itself (Huizinga 1955). Traditional sports
as we know them are of far more recent origins with roots in Britain in the mid- and
late 1800s. Sporting games follow the ideals of industrialism and modernity with
standardization of rules and external conditions and with precise measurements of
individual and team performance (Guttmann 1978). Interestingly, the development
of sport was part of an educational project for the young often referred to as
“Muscular Christianity.” The premise was that “sport builds character,” in partic-
ular in young men. In British public (i.e., private) schools of the time, students were
30 Sport, Children, and Well-Being 913
taught team games such as rugby and football to develop fitness and to cultivate
team spirit and solidarity. Individual sports such as boxing were thought to develop
courage and controlled aggression. One key aim was to install in young men the
virtues needed to sustain and expand the British Empire (Mangan 2000).
British colonialists brought competitive sport to the world. Part of “white man’s
burden” (to paraphrase Kipling) was considered to be spreading the assumed
blessings of sport among the “natives.” Today traditional colonial regimes are
gone but strong public interest in sport with British roots seems to remain. African
nations perform well in athletics and football, and Indians have a passion for
cricket. Moreover sporting success at elite levels is considered a sign of a healthy
nation and an efficient instrument in the construction of new, national identities
(Goksøyr 2010). International sport found its form in the early 1900s with the
International Olympic Committee and the Olympic Games as a model case. It has
gained increasing social, cultural, and economic value and is currently one of the
most powerful products on the international entertainment market.
The British sport model has also been met with resistance. Both in Europe and in
former British colonies opposition had ideas of national movement cultures as more
“genuine” marks of identity. In Northern Europe, for instance, traditional play and
games were considered morally superior to sport with different ideals of modera-
tion and “manliness” (Goksøyr 2010). Moreover, physical education in schools
(PE) was developed as an alternative to competitive sport. The ideal was not
objectively measured performances and competition but students’ all round devel-
opment and relative progress according to their own abilities and skills. PE was
considered an important part of a humanistic cultivation scheme (Anderson 2002;
Loland 2006).
Both the competitive sport model and the visions of local sport cultures and PE
seem to have in common an organizational pattern in which adults define and take
responsibility for implementing aims, goals, and organization. In the mid-1970s
alternative movement cultures emerged originating in the diversity of preferences
and needs of the population at large. In Europe national sport policies changed from
focusing on sport for young men to include activities for women and children.
Public sport policies have changed from one of patriotism and morality to one of
public health. Most European states follow the advice of the European Council and
embrace the ideal of “sport for all” (Slack and Parent 2007).
Another developmental trend is rooted in alternative youth culture. In Western
culture the 1960s and 1970s were a time of protest and alternative thinking. One
aim was independence from traditional hierarchical structures dominated by adults.
An emerging alternative movement aimed for experiences of playfulness and
freedom in education, music and popular culture, and lifestyle. In sport and physical
activity, this meant a revival of self-initiated activities in youth (Gutman and
Frederick 2004). The so-called board sports provide illustrating examples: skate-
board, kiting, and snowboard. Key ideals are individualism, freedom and creativity
from adult control, and a particular aesthetics including outfit and music. Today
board cultures are mainstream youth culture engaging millions of children all over
the world.
During the last decade a fourth kind of children and youth activity has emerged
originating in the development of the fitness industry. Initially activities such as
aerobics, introduced by American medical doctor Kenneth H. Cooper in the late
1960s, attracted women who did not find meaningful traditional sport activities.
Fitness studios emerged offering a variety of exercise activities for new population
groups including aerobics. Currently the fitness sector is a key agent in the sport and
training industry both financially and culturally (Maguire 2008). In developed
Western countries up to 30 % of the adult population are members of such clubs.
Fitness clubs attract young people to an increasing degree. The norms and values
of the fitness centers are diverse. One core theme is an instrumental one: Exercise is
justified with reference to improving health and preventing illness and (to an
increasing degree) to improving bodily appearance according to certain body
ideals. In this sense the fitness trend can be seen as being in direct contradiction
to the intrinsic ideals of the board culture discussed above.
30.4 Modes of Sporting Activities
What then are the experiences and well-being outcomes of these various sporting
forms? What modes are being cultivated?
In self-initiated play and games, participants are in what we with Huizinga
(1955) can label the playing mode. Activities are experienced as being of autotelic
value, that is, as being valuable in and for themselves. When a particular kind of
play is repeated, gets a history, and becomes regulated with rules, it can be said to
turn into a game (Meier 1988). Game playing can still be autotelic in character from
the experiential point of view but may also have the character of instrumental
activities in which external goals take priority over internal ones.
Let us take an example. When children engage in spontaneous play such as
kicking a ball, they generally engage because of intrinsic values. They play
primarily because it is fun, exciting, and challenging. If intrinsic values decrease,
generally the playing will change character or cease to exist. The game of football is
regulated ball playing with a long history. Rules define what is allowed and
disallowed and what counts as winning and losing. Again, many children and
youth engage due to the intrinsic values of football. In structured practice, however,
the game does not cease to exist even if it loses intrinsic value. With adult
regulation and in an organized sport setting, training and working ethos easily
emerges together with an orientation toward objectively measured performance
and results.
This development is followed closely by researchers and will be discussed in
more detail below. At this point it suffices to say that it represents a significant
challenge to children’s sports. Many young people drop out of organized sport in
their early teens, and there is evidence that this is due to psychological conditions
that run counter to young athletes’ well-being (Sarrazin et al. 2002; Pelletier et al.
2001). Motivational climates with an emphasis on play, cooperation, and intrinsic
values seem to be of key importance to well-being outcomes.
30.5 Children’s Sport: The Current Situation
Since the 1970s there is a trend toward increased sport participation among children
and young people across Europe and worldwide (Green 2008). Physical activity and
sports belong to the most popular leisure activities (Dollman et al. 2005; Koska
2005; Telama et al. 2002), and the sport activities are taking place in a variety of
contexts. Large surveys regarding children’s participation in organized sport have
been carried out in several countries. Although the results differ from country to
country, the proportions of children participating in such activities are generally
high. A recent study from Norway shows that 67 % of the boys and 55 % of the girls
aged 8–12 years regularly participate in training and competitions organized
by sport clubs (Norwegian Ministry of Culture [NMC] 2007). However, the
participation drops significantly during secondary school age, from about 60 %
for 13-year-olds to about 30 % for 17-year-olds (Seippel et al. 2011). The
Australian Bureau of Statistics (ABS) report that 63 % of Australian children
aged from 5 to 14 years participate in organized sport and that participation was
highest among the 9- to 11-year-olds (ABS 2010). In 2005, 51 % of children aged
5–14 in Canada regularly took part in organized sports (Clark 2008). All these large
surveys show that more boys than girls participate in organized sports and that
participation drops significantly during secondary school age.
Besides the mentioned increase in participation in sports among children and
adolescents, studies also show that the dropout rate during late adolescence has
declined markedly. Young people are thus likely to continue with sport
and physical activity even after completing full-time education (Green 2008;
Roberts 1996).
There are national differences when it comes to whether children’s training
sessions and sport competitions are organized by sport clubs or by schools.
Thus, the percentages presented above are not fully comparable. In the USA, for
instance, children and youth sport tend to take form of extracurricular sport and
interscholastic competitions organized and delivered by school coaches, while in
Europe voluntary sport clubs commonly are the main providers. Also in Europe,
however, for instance in England and Wales, there is an emerging trend for schools
to provide after-school sporting activities for the pupils (Green 2008).
In this context we work with a wide interpretation of sporting activities and
include self-chosen recreational activities alone or among family members
and peers. For children up to 10 years of age, such activities are often part of self-
managed physical play (Løndal 2010a). But also older children engage in recrea-
tional sports outside of clubs and schools. Green (2008, p. 119) claims that “there
has been a broadening and diversification in the kinds of sports undertaken by both
adults and young people” and that there has been a shift toward so-called lifestyle
activities: noncompetitive or less competitive activities. Popular lifestyle activities
among children and youth are noncompetitive cycling, swimming, running, skiing,
dancing, rollerblading and skateboarding, and “health and fitness center activities”
but also team sports such as football, volleyball, and basketball as well as partner
sports such as badminton (Green 2008; Macdonald et al. 2005; Seippel et al. 2011).
Despite the fact that there has been an increase in children’s sports participation
during the last decades, investigations also show an increase in the proportion of
inactive children. According to Engstr€ om’s (2010) studies from Sweden, far from
all children and adolescents participate in sport and physical activity. This is a trend
confirmed by Australian studies (Dollman et al. 2005). The situation is character-
ized by social segregation; children from middle-class homes are more likely to
participate in sport clubs and physical activity than children from lower socioeco-
nomic groups. A particularly vulnerable group in this respect seems to be girls from
immigrant families (Larsson 2008).
Finally, sport is a part of children’s in school-time curricular and extracurricular
physical education (PE). In most countries worldwide, young people take part in PE
on a reasonably regular basis (Green 2008). However, there is a clear trend toward
less curricular PE in many countries, for example, Australia, USA, England,
Germany, and Sweden (Dollman et al. 2005; Hardman and Marshall 2000, 2005).
A priority agenda of emphasizing “academic” development and theoretical issues
put pressure on practical issues such as PE, thus squeezing their curricular time.
30.6 Conceptualization of Children’s Well-Being
It is beyond the scope of this chapter to review all conceptions of well-being

and specific theories that has informed research in this area. Hence, we
present a selective overview based on our perception of their relevance for
children’s sport.
In general terms we can talk about well-being as lives going well physically,
psychologically, and socially. Well-being is a combination of feeling good, being
able to pursue intrinsic goals and values, and functioning effectively (Ryan et al.
2008; Huppert 2009). “Resilient” well-being does not imply that young people
need to feel good and function effectively all the time. Nevertheless, physical,
psychological, and social well-being would seem compromised when painful
physical symptoms, negative emotions, and negative social relations are long
lasting and interfere with young peoples’ capability to handle efficiently his or
her daily life (Huppert 2009).
In recent years the research literature on well-being has borrowed from positive
psychology (Diener and Seligman 2002) and shifted toward putting particular
emphasis on positive physical and mental states rather than just absence of disorder
and various forms of physical and psychosocial dysfunction and affective states
such as anxiety and depression. Further, models of health and well-being such as
Antonovsky’s salutogenetic approach have focused on a resource perspective
and identified resistance resources as protective factors that help protect against
stress-inducing risk factors in life. According to Antonovsky, a sense of coherence
represents a source of resistance. Hence, a main question posed is: What makes
a person maintain good health and positive well-being (Antonovsky 1997)? This
shift toward the positive side of the coin and taking a resource perspective is also
reflected in WHO’s recent definition of positive mental health (adult focused

though) as “a state of wellbeing in which the individual realizes his or her own
abilities, can cope with normal stresses to life, can work productively and fruitfully,
and is able to make a contribution to his or her community” (WHO 2001).
In research literature the concept of well-being is used in a highly variable sense.
Based on a systematic review of the child well-being literature, Pollard and Lee
(2003) refer to Columbo 1986 who forward the following definition: “[Wellbeing is]
a multi-dimensional construct incorporating mental/psychological, physical and
social dimensions” (Columbo, cited in Pollard and Lee 2003, p. 64).
The term mental well-being has been identified as including three main
dimensions, emotional, social, and psychological, and is seen as comprising
several aspects. Examples are emotional well-being, life satisfaction, optimism
and hope, self-esteem, mastery and a sense of control, having a purpose in life, a
sense of belonging, and personal support (Scottish Government 2009, cited in
Whitelaw et al. 2010).
30.6.1 Differentiating Well-Being from Quality of Life
Whereas some researchers approaching the concept of well-being have focused on

dissecting various aspects of the concept itself, recently others have tried to
disentangle the concept of well-being from quality of life, while also dissecting
the well-being concept itself (Guerin 2012). According to Guerin, the concept
of quality of life should best be seen as a conceptual umbrella under which we
may place subdimensions such as well-being and health-related quality of life.
Further down in the hierarchical structure, she places life satisfaction (connected
to health-related quality of life), whereas she dissects well-being into subjective
well-being (comprising of a hedonic conception including positive and negative
affect and life satisfaction). Psychological well-being embraces the eudaimonic
conception operationalized as vitality and likewise life satisfaction being linked to
health-related quality of life. In addition to these vertical differentiations, she also
argues for a horizontal continuum from subjective to objective criteria in
her proposed model. Life satisfaction, positive and negative affect, and vitality
represent the subjective ones, while objective criteria include objective indices of
physical functionality and to some extent indices of physical pain.
The bottom line of Guerin’s umbrella model fits well with that of Diener and
Biswas-Diener (2002) who offer the following definition for subjective wellbeing:
“[Subjective wellbeing] is defined as people’s evaluations of their own lives.
Such evaluations can be both cognitive judgments, such as life satisfaction, and
emotional responses on events, such as feeling positive emotions. Subjective
wellbeing thus refers to several separable components: life satisfaction and
satisfaction with life domains, feeling positive affect most of the time, experiencing
infrequent feelings of negative affect, and judging one’s life to be fulfilling and
meaningful” (2002, p. 1–2).
30.6.2 A Self-determination Approach to Well-Being
Self-determination theory (SDT) is a “meta-theory that highlights the importance

of humans’ evolved inner resources for personality development and behavioral
self-regulation” (Ryan and Deci 2000, p. 68). SDT presupposes that human beings
have a disposal toward activity and integration. This growth tendency of natural
activity and curiosity is referred to as intrinsic motivation. However, humans are
still vulnerable toward passivity. Three innate psychological needs that are the
basis of human self-motivation and personality integration have been identified:
autonomy, competence, and relatedness (ibid.). Autonomy in personal activity is
held to be more stable and enduring and to affect human well-being more positively
than controlled activity. A sense of autonomy, competence, and relatedness is seen
as essential for personal development of self-regulation and ability to sustain an
activity (Ryan et al. 2008). Relatedness refers to the sense of being understood and
respected by significant others.
According to SDT the basic need for autonomy, competence, and relatedness must
be satisfied through the life span to experience an ongoing sense of integrity and well-
being (Ryan and Frederick 1997). A basic need is seen as “an energizing state that, if
satisfied, conduces toward health and wellbeing but, if not satisfied, contributes to
pathology and ill-being” (ibid., p. 74). An important distinction within the SDT
perspective is that of hedonic versus eudaimonic conception of well-being. Hedonic
research emphasizes well-being as a valued, but restricted state of being, namely,
seeking pleasure or comfort or generally positive affect and absence of pain.
Eudaimonic conceptions of well-being, in contrast, refer to living well and using and
developing the best in oneself. Hence, this conception conceives of well-being indica-
tors such as vitality, intimacy, health, and sense of meaning, among others (Ryan et al.
2008). According to Huta and Ryan (2010), hedonic and eudaimonic conceptions of
well-being should not be set up as contrasts. Positive affect and pleasure are both
correlates and consequences of living well – of eudaimonia – a good life.
SDT also focuses on social-psychological contexts that enhance or hinder the
satisfaction of basic needs and thus intrinsically regulated motivation and
well-being. Research emanating from the SDT perspective has revealed that
contexts supportive of autonomy, competence, and relatedness foster intrinsic
motivation and well-being, whereas controlling contexts thwart the satisfaction of
these needs and enhance extrinsic motivation or lack of motivation as well as
indices of ill-being. More specifically, excessive control, nonoptimal challenges,
and lack of connectedness may disrupt the inherent actualizing and organizational
tendencies. Thus, such factors not only result in the lack of initiative and
responsibility but also in distress and psychopathology. As such, well-being should
be seen as affected by the context in which their activity is conducted in that
contextual specificities either enhance or thwart the basic needs of the individuals,
which in turn help to stimulate or reduce a sense of well-being.
Recently, efforts within sport and exercise psychology have been made to com-
plement SDT theory with the achievement goal perspective. This opens up also for
examining the role of mastery-oriented versus performance-oriented psychological

contexts on indices of young peoples’ well-being in sport (Ames 1992; Reinboth et al.
2004; Ommundsen et al. 2010). A mastery climate is fostered by the coach focusing
on athletes’ learning, self-improvement, and participation behavior such as optimally
challenging tasks and effort. A mastery climate would seem important for intrinsi-
cally regulated motivation and sense of vitality. Such a climate would foster chal-
lenge seeking and having participants become motivated by the intrinsic aspects of
the tasks (e.g., doing the tasks, accomplishing the tasks, and learning the skills).
Indeed, motivation generated by challenge seeking and accomplishment of tasks are
embedded in the concept of intrinsically regulated motivation and fits well with ideals
of play and of eudaimonic conceptions of well-being.
In contrast, a performance climate has its focus on social comparison rewards,
normative ability, and the more able athletes. Further, a performance climate
is promoted by the coach emphasizing interpersonal competition, public evaluation,
and normative feedback. In a performance climate, mistakes are punished,
reinforcement and attention are differentially provided as a function of ability, and
there may be rivalry, poorer friendship patterns, and less peer acceptance among
athletes. A performance climate may be perceived as controlling and facilitating less
self-determined forms of motivation and giving rise to amotivation and reduced
vitality. Indeed, there is ample evidence to show that a mastery climate associates
positively with young peoples’ well-being in sport, whereas a performance climate
seems to generate psychological stress and reduced well-being (Ntoumanis and
Biddle 1999).
30.6.3 Differentiating Between Contextual Influences on

Well-Being and Well-Being Per Se
A critical issue with many of the frameworks established to increase the under-
standing of the concept of child well-being is a lack of distinguishing between
dimensions of the actual well-being of children themselves and dimensions of the
context in which they live. To meet with this void, Lippman et al. (2009, p. 32)
emphasize the important role of the contextual variables: “Indicators of such vari-
ables are extremely important in that they represent critical inputs into the devel-
opment and wellbeing of children; however, they are not measures of child
wellbeing per se.” Building on a theoretical perspective based on ecological theory
(Bronfenbrenner 1979, 1995) and social capital theory (Coleman 1990; Putnam
1995), they suggest a framework for positive indicator development. This frame-
work can also be helpful in understanding the concept of child well-being and its
contextual input variables. As shown in the framework presented below, Lippman
et al. (2009) suggest three overacting categories (individual child well-being,
relationships, and context) in the framework and four to five dimensions within
each category.
Framework of Child Well-Being

The individual child’s well-being
• Physical health, development, and safety
• Cognitive development and education
• Psychological/emotional development
• Social development and behavior
Relationships
• Family
• Peers
• School
• Community
• Macrosystems
Context
• Family
• Peers
• School
• Community
• Macrosystems
(Lippman et al. 2009, p. 18–19)
By distinguishing between individual child well-being outcomes and the

interacting context, the risk of confusing dimensions of context with dimensions of
well-being is carefully taken care of. Unlike earlier frameworks of child well-being,
“relationships” are suggested as a separate category, distinct from the category of
“the individual child’s well-being” but also distinct from the category of “context.” It
is argued that relationships are not to be regarded as measures of the external contexts
in which children develop. However, Lippman et al. (2009, p. 11) refer to studies by
Fattore et al. (2009), Matthews et al. (2006), and Hanafin and Brooks (2005) and state
that “relationships have been found to be of the highest importance to children in
studies which ask children to define what makes them flourish in their own lives.”
There seems to be agreement among researchers that the child’s total well-being
is influenced across different types of dimensions (for a comprehensive review
of current theoretical accounts, see Lippman et al. 2009, Appendix A). The
dimensions of the individual child’s well-being suggested of Lippman and colleagues
are fairly similar to those identified by other researchers, but dimensions of contexts
and relationships are carefully excluded from the category of well-being. When it
comes to the categories of relationships and context, these are suggested assessed
within five varied domains of the children’s life that can contribute to the children’s
well-being: family, peers, school, community, and the larger macrosystem.
30.6.4 A Child-Focused Approach to Child Well-Being
It is a commonly used approach that researchers decide on dimensions and indicators

of child well-being. This approach has been criticized for being adult centric and for
neglecting the voice of children themselves in the study of their well-being. It is argued
that dimensions of quality of life, as the children experience here and now, have to be
included in the concept of child well-being (Ben-Arieh and Frønes 2007). Children
often are denied “agency” because they are considered to be vulnerable and
incompetent, and that children should be awarded a role as active participants
rather than of objects for research (Ben-Arieh 2005; James and Prout 1997;
Komulainen 2007).
Meeting with such criticism the child-focused approach has been developed
during the last 10 years (Fattore et al. 2007). The aim is to directly involve children
in the entire research process, including the establishment of dimensions and
indicators of well-being. This approach is affected by an increasing concern for
listening to children’s “voices” in social research. Fattore and coworkers (2007)
carried out a qualitative and phenomenological research project aimed to identify
areas for dimension and indicator development, developed from children’s own
understanding of the concept of well-being. The researchers involved 126 children
within the state of New South Wales in Australia, aged 8–15, as co-constructors of
knowledge at the data gathering and analysis stages of the project. The researchers
developed dimensions and indicators informed by “what children consider as
important for ‘the here and now’ and for the future” (ibid., p. 25). They also paid
careful attention to elaborate the children’s understanding of the concept of well-
being. To quote the findings:
“In particular, children focus on what contributes to positive experiences of wellbeing. Their
conceptualization of positive wellbeing is, however, not a straightforward one. For example,
while children associate with wellbeing that are typically regarded as positive feeling states
such as happiness, excitement and peacefulness or calm, some children include being able to
integrate anger and sadness into their lives, as part of wellbeing” (ibid., p. 17).
Also in the study of child well-being and sport, children’s subjective views of
their lives have to be taken into consideration. Indeed, conceptualizing well-being
as subjective well-being and psychological well-being within the umbrella model
offered by Guerin (2012) fits nicely with this child-focused perspective.
The recent shift toward a more child-focused approach has moved the thinking
from negative indicators that influence well-being to positive indicators that
strengthen well-being (Fattore et al. 2007). Fattore et al.’s (2007) findings about
children’s understanding of the concept of well-being show the relevance of such
a move. The dimensions constructed by Fattore and colleagues complement more
traditional dimensions, reflecting children’s lived experience comprising autonomy
and agency, keeping safe and feeling secure, experience of self, material resources,
physical environment and home, and activities and being active. One of the dimen-
sions, “activities and being active,” refers to what the children referred to as things in
which they took part, for example, physical activities and sport. It is worth noting
that “activities and being active” refer to both actions (verb) and activities (noun).
Fattore et al. (2007, p. 20) have an interesting comment on this in their article:
“Activities were evident in our data as separate entities in so far as they were associated
with sensory experiences, for example physical exhilaration in sports or visual responses to
creativity. Apart from these sensory experiences, activities had no separate concrete
meaning in themselves, rather they are contexts in which children experience and negotiate
competencies and relationships and may also have ‘fun’.”
The blend of categories such as “activities and being active” together with
“autonomy” and “agency” and “feeling secure” brought forward by this phenom-
enological approach fits well with theoretical reasoning within the SDT perspective
and with the framework of Lippman et al. (2009) described earlier in the chapter:
Sport may be seen both as a part of the children’s context and as an activity which
can contribute positively or negatively to their well-being.
30.7 On the Role of Sport for Child Well-Being
Sport may operate to have both direct and indirect influences on one or more
dimensions of the children’s well-being, be it physical, mental/psychological, or
social ones. The framework of Lippman et al. (2009) alongside those referred to by
Whitelaw et al. (2010) clearly captures several of dimensions of physical/mental/
psychological or social well-being. Hence, we take several of these dimensions as
starting points when approaching the role of sport for children’s well-being.
30.7.1 Sport and Physical Aspects of Child Well-Being
As an example and as indicated in the introduction, obesity during childhood and

adolescence is a growing public health threat. Even though many programs aimed
to reduce the overweight problems have shown to have little impact on the
individual’s body mass index (BMI), an increase in physical activity seems to
positively influence on their physical health and quality of life (Blair and Brodney
1999). Moreover, irrespective of weight concerns, inactivity poses a threat to young
peoples’ physical functioning aspects of their well-being. Effects of enhanced
physical activity include enhanced metabolic function, better skeletal health, and
generally normal physical growth and development (Janssen and LeBlanc 2010).
Hence, sport participation might increase well-being through the dimension
“physical health, development, and safety” as well as on the “psychological/
emotional development” dimension of well-being.
30.7.2 Sport and Cognitive Aspects of Child Well-Being
Although a direct causal link between physical activity, sport, and cognitive
functioning seems questionable (Keely and Fox 2009), recent meta-analyses on
the effects of physical activity and physical fitness have provided strong evidence of
a clear relationship (Fedewa and Ahn 2011; Singh et al. 2012). Physical activity
interventions comprising aerobic exercises have shown the greatest effect on
cognitive functioning followed by regular physical education programs in school
and perceptual motor training programs (Fedewa and Ahn 2011). The role of
physical fitness as a moderator in this relationship however is still unclear (Etnier
et al. 2006; Fedewa and Ahn 2011). Research on the role of physical activity and
sport for cognitive and academic function suggests that children’s attachment to
school as well as their self-esteem and ability to concentrate during school lessons
may be enhanced by physical activity, which in turn affects cognitive functioning
and academic achievements (Biddle and Asare 2011; Trudeau and Shepard 2008).
Changes in brain structures, functions, and neurotransmitters do also occur in
individuals who are more involved in physical activity and sport (Kramer and
Hillman 2006; Trudeau and Shepard 2010).
Following such a chain of argumentation, sport and physical activity can con-
tribute in an indirect manner to the cognitive development and education dimension
of the child’s well-being (Trudeau and Shepard 2008). Further, given society’s
quest for education of young people and parental reinforcement of the value of
children’s school success, enhanced cognitive functioning and academic achieve-
ments would seem important for children’s mental/psychological and social well-
being. The concept of “brain health” (Trudeau and Shepard 2010) indeed points to
the enhanced status of cognitive functioning for children’s well-being.
It is a paradox then that in times of a testing culture in school focusing on the need
for competence in subjects such as mathematics and reading, there is a pressure
toward marginalizing physical education and extracurricular physical activity during
schooltime (Fedewa and Ahn 2011). Interestingly, given these circumstances, extra-
curricular sport programs may play a compensatory role by enhancing young peo-
ples’ well-being by also helping them thrive and function well in schools (Park 2004).
30.7.3 Sport and Mental/Psychological and Social Aspects of

Child Well-Being
Several psychological and social characteristics embedded in the context of sport

may help facilitate or hinder children’s mental/psychological well-being as an
outcome of participation. To mention a few, communication styles of significant
others, group dynamics of the activity, and organizational values and ideologies
may play a role. One strand of research has looked into how the motivational sport
climate may affect children’s well-being. In a climate characterized by autonomy
support and mastery focus, children are typically met with experiences capable
of developing an overall positive sense of self, fuelling need for competence,
autonomy and relatedness, intrinsic life goals, and motivation. This leads to
psychological well-being in the format of vitality, as well as positive affective
states (Blanchard et al. 2009; Ryan and Deci 2000; Ommundsen et al. 2010). By
way of contrast, a context of organized sport perceived as controlling and focused
on social-comparative performance and winning may easily come to thwart need
satisfaction, thus restricting eudaimonic well-being, instead leading to defensive or
self-protective psychological accommodations with severe costs for well-being
(e.g., low vitality and high levels of emotional and physical exhaustion, negative
affect, and anxiety reactions (Bartolomew et al. 2011a)).
Sport activities of various kinds may also be used to strengthen children’s social
relationships, attachment, and social bonding to family, friends, coaches, and wider
community. In this respect, researchers have conceptualized sport as a “social

convoy” in that participation both widens the social settings to which children are
exposed as well as strengthening relationships within those settings (McGeea et al.
2006). By being included in the “social convoy,” children’s social well-being may
also be indirectly affected by preventing them from involvement in antisocial
behavior (Ferguson 2006; Mahoney and Stattin 2000).
Hence, provided constructive social relationships and a proper structure within
specific sport contexts as well as in the general environment, children may take
advantage of sport to develop psychological and social well-being. Sport may also
have the potential to influence well-being dimensions, most likely the dimensions
“psychological/emotional development” and “social development and behavior,”
as introduced in Lippman et al.’s (2009) model.
Below, we pose the question of why sport can play a role for children’s mental/
psychological and social well-being, emphasizing both potential mechanisms and
pointing to the role of environmental circumstances. Thereafter, we offer a short
review over studies of children’s sport and physical activity related to aspects of
their mental/psychological well-being.
30.7.4 Why Might There Be a Relationship Between Sport and

Mental/Psychological Well-Being?
The mechanisms by which sport may play a role for various aspects of
young peoples’ mental/psychological well-being may be several and have been
illuminated from several perspectives. Physiological, mental/psychological, as well
as social factors have been argued for (Fox 2000). Before going into a detailed
overview, it seems important to note that physical activity and sport represents
a bodily active leisure pursuit as compared to exemplars of physically inactive ones,
like TV watching and playing video/computer games. Does it make a difference to
make this distinction when it comes to mental/psychological well-being?
Representing a physically active leisure pursuit, researchers have found sport
participation to be positively related to happiness and positive self-esteem, while
physically inactive leisure pursuits such as watching television and playing video
games showed the opposite pattern. The question is whether sport activity
effects on well-being outcomes can be attributed to the activity per se or to some
environmental conditions of the activity. According to Whitelaw and coworkers
(Whitelaw et al. 2010), this would be a simplistic approach to understanding the
role of sport activity for well-being. They argue:
“To achieve enhanced wellbeing via physical activity and sport, both the theoretical link
between the concepts (e.g. physical activity and sport and wellbeing), and conducive
environmental circumstances are required” (p. 65).
In physiological terms of mechanisms, improved mental/psychological well-

being has been perceived to be associated with various “proximal” changes such
as increased body temperature, increases in endorphins, a change in the
serotonergic systems, and effects on neurotransmitters (Bouchard et al. 2006).

Improved mental/psychological well-being has also been attributed to physical
fitness, weight loss, and with the feeling that the body is more toned (Biddle and
Mutrie 2007).
Psychological constructs have also been seen as significant: A mastery hypoth-
esis suggests that effects are linked to increases in self-esteem (self-worth) and
personal control that come with accomplishing physical activity and sport tasks
(Fox 1999). Indeed, sport has been shown to enhance well-being by acting as
a protective factor by providing feelings of competency and meaning (Caldwell
2005). A “distraction” or “time-out” thesis has also been forwarded whereby sport
activity takes young people away from stressful parts of their lives (“stress-
buffering hypothesis”) (Penedo and Dahn 2005). There is support for this buffering
hypothesis in that sport and physical activity may protect against the effects of
negative events (Brown and Siegel 1988; Tedeschi and Calhoun 2004).
A more “distal” perspective focuses on the wider sociological factors, that sport
and physical activity develop and reinforce social interaction and sense of belong-
ing through collective experiences leading to better community integration. Indeed,
sport has been shown to enhance well-being by acting as a protective factor by
providing social support and enhancing social relations (Caldwell 2005). In line
with social capital theory (Putnam 2000), this would help enhance social aspects of
children’s well-being by strengthening their social networks, by better coping with
problems in everyday life, reducing life stress, and building self-esteem (Morrow
1999). The social and cultural status and social acceptance attached to sport and
physical activity for young people may also lead to increases in their self-esteem and
help to encourage health-promoting norms (Putnam 2000; Whitelaw et al. 2010).
30.8 On the Role of Sport for Children’s Mental/Psychological

Well-Being: What Do We Know?
In this part we first review a selection of recent studies that predominantly have
taken a self-determination perspective and in some instances bridged by an achieve-
ment goal perspective focusing on the role of psychological characteristics of the
sport context for children’s well-being in sport. Hence, as a starting point, we
narrow our focus by prioritizing the organized sport scene, typically competitive
sport for children and youth led by adult coaches. This approach fits nicely with the
approach taken by Lippman and colleagues (Lippman et al. 2009) who make the
distinction between well-being per se and contextual dimensions and specificities
that make an influence on well-being. This coheres also with our reasoning above
(e.g., Whitelaw et al. 2010) concerning mechanisms and environmental circum-
stances conducive to strengthened well-being.
While providing autonomy support and creating a mastery-oriented climate appear
to be important for young peoples’ well-being, the very nature of organized sport as
objective context unfortunately easily facilitates a controlling and a performance-
oriented climate. Why is that? First, task-contingent rewards are prevalent and
training and competitions are scheduled in advance, creating fixed “deadlines” for
training and performance. Young people involved in sport are continually under
scrutiny being observed and evaluated by coaches, parents, and peers. Moreover,
the competitive structure with leagues, competitions, and win-loss statistics puts
pressure on coaches to prioritize winning over effort, learning, and skill development
for all. Hence, these objective contextual characteristics make children in sports have
less choice and input in the process of participation. This would seem particularly so
in organized children’s sport in which coaches usually take responsibility for planning
of the training and for tactical dispositions ahead of and during competitions. As such
children’s sport may easily become antithetical to autonomy support and a mastery
focus and thus young peoples’ well-being in sport (Deci and Ryan 1987; Ryan and
Deci 2007; Ames 1992). Indeed, building upon Putnam’s (2000) social capital theory,
Perks (2007) has questioned the role of competitive sport for young people to foster
social capital by facilitating a sense of belonging, social integration, cooperation, and
community cohesiveness. The competitive element of sport may instead come to
enhance antagonism, hostility, peer conflict, and intra- and intergroup rivalry that
would be antithetical to young peoples’ psychosocial well-being (Perks 2007).
Despite such more objective contextual characteristics of sport (Lippman et al.
2009), coaches have the possibility to impact on young peoples’ friendship relations,
social-moral reasoning, and well-being by creating compensatory psychological
contexts emphasizing autonomy supportive and mastery-oriented psychological
climates (Ommundsen et al. 2003; Ommundsen et al. 2005). As indicated in the
introduction, sport can be practiced with an emphasis on play. To this end, the way
coaches structure the activity and the nature of their interpersonal behaviors with
young sports people becomes decisive for their well-being through sport. In
the following we present the results of selected empirical studies that emphasize
the role of the coach in this respect.
30.8.1 Empirical Findings Taking a Self-determination and

Achievement Goal Perspective
Using the framework of self-determination theory (Ryan and Deci 2000),

Gagne et al. (2003) conducted a 4-week diary study of 33 young American female
gymnasts aged 7–18 examining the relations between perceived parent- and coach
supports and the athlete’s motivation, need satisfaction and the effect of daily
motivation, and athletes’ psychological need satisfaction during practice on their
well-being. Using a positive and negative affect scale as well as a measure
of subjective vitality and self-esteem as indices of hedonic and eudaimonic
conceptions of well-being, results revealed that, as hypothesized, the quality of
the gymnasts’ daily motivation (e.g., intrinsically regulated motivation) influenced
pre-practice well-being. Further, changes in well-being from pre- to post-practice
varied systematically with the need satisfaction experienced during practice.
Perceived parent and coach autonomy support was associated with more autono-
mous motivation toward gymnastics. The results supported self-determination
theory’s proposal that autonomy support serves to satisfy psychological needs that
are necessary for sustained autonomous motivation and well-being. Implications of
this study to the training of young sports people seem clear. The way training is
carried out has an influence on their well-being and perhaps on their participation.
Training contexts where coaches support the gymnasts’ autonomy by listening
to their concerns and affording them some choice, where athletes feel
well connected to teammates, and where they receive some positive competence
feedback, are likely to help fuelling their well-being by allowing for sustained
positive emotions, being more energized, and having a higher and more stable
self-esteem.
In a study among 207 young Canadian players involved in organized basketball,
Blanchard and colleagues (2009) examined the role of a controlling interpersonal
style from the coach upon players’ need satisfaction, regulation of motivation, and
their well-being in basketball. In line with expectations, perceptions of coaches’
controlling interpersonal style negatively impacted feelings of autonomy. In turn,
all three psychological needs positively predicted intrinsic motivation in basketball
and greater hedonic well-being as indicated by enhanced sport satisfaction
and positive emotions. Regarding a controlling interpersonal style on the coach’s
side, the authors underline that coaches’ controlling behaviors related negatively
to autonomy need satisfaction. This finding coupled with the link from need
for autonomy to motivation and well-being suggests that the players’ perceptions
of controlling behaviors undermined their feelings of well-being. A controlling
interpersonal style in which coaches interact with their athletes in a highly directive
manner and tend to coerce them into certain behavioral patterns seem to
pose a threat to young peoples’ sense of well-being in basketball. An opposite
pattern was found for team cohesiveness. The more players felt connected to
their team, the stronger their social relatedness were shown to be, which in turn
positively influenced psychological well-being indices such as positive emotions
and satisfaction when playing basketball.
A coercive interpersonal style was not found to negatively influence the need for
competence and relatedness. One possible reason for this could be that when
measuring the negative effects of a controlling interpersonal style, need satisfaction
rather than thwarting of need satisfaction was measured. Other researchers (e.g.,
Bartholomew et al. 2011a, b) have made the point that explicitly measuring need
thwarting rather than lack of need satisfaction would be expected to better capture
the negative effects of a controlling interpersonal style. This claim was supported in
two studies among young team- and individual sport participants. First, while need
satisfaction positively predicted the athletes’ eudaimonic well-being, need
thwarting was found to predict ill-being as measured by signs of burnout and
mental and physical exhaustion (Bartholomew et al. 2011a). Second, mediated by
need thwarting, experiencing a controlling climate in young peoples’ sport
predicted ill-being as indicated by elevated levels of depression, negative affect,
and signs of burnout and exhaustion (Bartholomew et al. 2011b).
Ommundsen and coworkers (Ommundsen et al. 2010) investigated the mediat-
ing role of young Norwegian soccer players’ satisfaction of their need for perceived
competence, autonomy, and social relatedness in the relationship between coach-

created motivational climates and the players’ motivational regulation. Second, the
combined effect of climate, mediators, and motivational regulation on subjective
vitality was examined. Participants comprised young male and female soccer
players taking part in an international youth soccer tournament in Norway. Building
upon tenets from achievement goal theory and self-determination theory (Nicholls
1989; Deci and Ryan 1985), regression analyses revealed that satisfaction of
the need for competence, autonomy, and relatedness significantly and partially
mediated relations between a coach-created mastery climate (e.g., one in which
coaches emphasized progress, learning, and mastery of skills) and intrinsically
regulated motivation. Further, a mastery climate, satisfaction of the need
for autonomy, and intrinsically regulated motivation all independently predicted
subjective vitality in soccer. A performance climate, in which coaches emphasize
winning, social comparison, and being the best, predicted lack of motivation and in
turn reduction of a sense of players’ eudaimonic well-being. The study findings
point to the value of investigating aspects of achievement goal theory with
self-determination theory together and underscore the role of the coach in generat-
ing growth experiences for young players so that they can thrive and enhance their
well-being. Coaches emphasizing winning and being the best, in contrast, may
come to deprive young players from sport experiences vital for well-being. Sarrazin
and coworkers (Sarrazin et al. 2002), in a study among young French handball
players, supplemented these findings by showing that a performance climate not
only detracts from intrinsically regulated motivation but also raises the possibility
that young people leave the sport, whereas a coach-created mastery climate works
as a protective mechanism for dropping out.
Based on the self-determination theory (Ryan and Deci 2000), Alvarez and
colleagues (Álvarez et al. 2009) in a study of 370 young male Spanish soccer
players tested a model of the assumed sequential relationships between perceived
autonomy support from coaches, psychological need satisfaction, self-determined
motivation, and well-being outcomes in the format of positive (enjoyment)
and negative (boredom) affective states. The hypothesized mediational roles of
psychological need satisfaction and self-determined motivation were also studied.
Path analysis results supported theoretical predictions. Psychological need
satisfaction fully mediated the relationship between autonomy support and
self-determined motivation, while self-determined motivation partially mediated
links between psychological need satisfaction and enjoyment (positive) and
boredom (negative). The authors conclude that the results underscore the
importance of creating a motivational autonomy supportive atmosphere that favors
satisfaction of psychological needs and more self-determined types of motivation in
players. An autonomy supportive atmosphere and corresponding motivation facil-
itate the development of positive affective states, such as enjoyment, thereby
improving the well-being of sports participation.
Reinboth and colleagues (2004) examined the relationship of dimensions of
coaching behavior to intrinsic need satisfaction and indices of psychological and
physical well-being among British male adolescent athletes involved in soccer and
cricket. Structural equation modeling analysis among the sample of 265 athletes
showed that autonomy support, mastery focus, and social support from the coach as
perceived by the players predicted their satisfaction of the needs for autonomy,
competence, and relatedness. The need for competence was shown to be the most
important predictor of psychological well-being (sense of vitality and intrinsic
satisfaction/interest in soccer and cricket) and physical well-being (negative phys-
ical symptoms in the 2 past weeks). This finding suggests that sport participants
who perceive they possess high physical skills may find their sport participation
more intrinsically interesting, enjoyable, and energy enhancing. Although mod-
estly, the need for autonomy positively predicted subjective vitality and intrinsic
satisfaction/interest in sport, both considered to be indicators of eudaimonic
well-being (Waterman 1993). The authors argue that the positive prediction is
aligned with Ryan and Frederick’s (1997) argument that autonomy should play
an important role with regard to feelings of being vital. In line with Ryan and
Frederick (1997), they argue that an internal locus of causality is a prerequisite for
experiencing their energy as personal and related to self. As a result, they should
report higher levels of subjective vitality. Reinboth and coworkers state: “For
example, athletes who feel powerless and compelled in their participation may
perceive less energy available to themselves compared to those athletes who feel
that they practice their sport autonomously and wholeheartedly” (p. 308).
In line with self-determination theory, results add support to the view that
particular aspects of the social environment should help satisfying particular
psychological needs. While others have shown the importance of all three needs
for young people’s self-determined motivation (Álvarez et al. 2009), in this study,
perceived competence stood out as important for team-sport participants’
psychological and physical well-being.
Fry and Gano-Overway (2010) studied the effects of the motivational climate on
young soccer players’ well-being within a competitive community sport program.
They observed that players perceiving a strong caring climate, in which they
perceived to feel safe, supported, respected, valued, and cared for on their team,
reported a stronger sense of enjoyment on the team than their counterparts. Results
seem to support that when young athletes, even within a competitive sport context,
perceive a caring climate in which coaches want to help them and are caring toward
them and the team, they experience a sense of well-being as indicated by strongly
expressing a sense of enjoyment while taking part.
The conception and influence of a caring dimension add to a mastery and
autonomy supportive climate and reveal that young athletes’ perception of social
assets of the sporting context is also important for their well-being in sport.
Probably, a caring climate helps both strengthening team cohesiveness (Blanchard
et al. 2009) and satisfying the need for relatedness to the team (Ryan and Frederick
1997) and reinforces the interdependency between athletes within a sport group
(Bruner et al. 2011). The latter is worth noting: A felt task and outcome type of
interdependency between young sport participants seems more important than the
type of sport they take part in when it comes to well-being related developmental
experiences (Bruner et al. 2011).
The studies reviewed under the umbrella of self-determination theory and

achievement goal theory attest to the role of constructive contextual circumstances
as a prerequisite for generating mental/psychological well-being outcomes from
taking part in organized sport. Several of these studies also points to possible
mechanisms or mediating factors through which contextual circumstances generate
well-being outcomes. As has been observed through several of these studies, sport
experiences that help satisfy young peoples’ need for feeling competent, the need
for having a sense of autonomy and self-determination as well as having a sense of
belongingness and feeling socially related, seem fundamental for young peoples’
growth and well-being through sport. Indeed, studies that help unravel how and why
sport activities may influence mental health outcomes have been called for to gain
a better understanding of well-being outcomes in sport (Cerin 2010). The study
examples reviewed meet with this call. Nevertheless, most of them are cross-
sectional. Hence, there is a need for prospective and experimental studies that
better allow for causal testing of the role of contextual circumstances and mediating
mechanisms in the domain of sport and well-being for young people.
30.8.2 Empirical Studies Including Nonspecified Theoretical

Frameworks or Other Conceptualizations of Mental/
Psychological Well-Being
Depression represents one of the more serious forms of illness in childhood given
that depressive episodes may lead to potential life-threatening outcomes. Up to
2.5 % of children and 8.3 % of adolescents have either major or minor depression
(American National Institute of Mental Health 2000). Depression is an indicator of
mental/psychological ill-being, and steps toward prevention seem worthwhile.
Michaud Tomson and coworkers (Michaud Tomson et al. 2003) examined the
relationship of physical activity to depressive symptoms in close to 1,000 American
children 8–12 years of age. Children were classified as physically active or inactive
by parents and teachers. The study also assessed the relationship of self-reports of
playing sports outside of school, and of meeting health-related fitness standards, to
symptoms of depression. Relative risk of depressive symptoms for those classified
as inactive was 2.8–3.4 times higher than it was for the active group, and relative
risk of depressive symptoms was 1.3–2.4 times higher for children not playing
sports outside of school and 1.5–4.0 times higher for those not meeting health-
related fitness goals. Study findings attest to the potential role of physical activity in
various formats and being physically fit in the prevention of childhood depressive
symptoms. While the cross-sectional design excludes any information on causality
in this study, results from an 18-year longitudinal study suggest that physical
inactivity actually puts adults in normal populations at risk for depression
and that increasing one’s activity level may lower the risk of later depression
(Camacho et al. 1991).
Using an experimental design, Norris et al. (1992) examined the effects of
physical activity and exercise training on psychological stress and well-being in
a population of young people in England. A sample of young adolescents com-

pleted self-reports of exercise and psychological stress and well-being. Analysis
revealed that those who reported greater physical activity also reported less stress
and lower levels of depression. To investigate the effects of exercise training on
psychological well-being, participants were assigned to either high- or moderate-
intensity aerobic training, flexibility training, or a control group. The training
groups met twice per week for 25–30 min. Aerobic fitness levels, heart rate,
blood pressure, and self-report of stress and well-being were measured prior to
and following 10 weeks of training. Intervention effectiveness for the high-intensity
aerobic exercise group was observed in that those taking part in high-intensity
exercise reported significantly less stress than subjects in the remaining three
groups. The relationship between stress and anxiety/depression/hostility for the
high-intensity group was considerably weakened at the end of the training period
whereas the relationship was strengthened for the remaining ones. This experiment
provides evidence to suggest that in this population of young people, high-intensity
aerobic exercise has positive effects on mental/psychological well-being.
Grounded in a salutogenetic perspective (Antonovsky 1997), Schumacher
Dimech and Seiler (2011) examined the role of team-sport participation over two
consecutive years in alleviating symptoms of social anxiety in 7–8 year old Swiss
primary school children. The children participated in structured interviews,
whereas parents and teachers completed questionnaires regarding children’s
social anxiety symptoms and classroom behavior, respectively. Parents also pro-
vided information about their children’s extracurricular sport activities. The
same information was gathered a year later. The authors postulated that organized
sport outside school hours would act as a generalized resistance resource as
described in Antonovsky’s (1997) salutogenetic model, thus buffering against
social anxiety symptoms in primary school children. This would seem important
in that social anxiety symptoms may prevent children from approaching social
situations and peer networks, in turn negatively impacting on their psychological
well-being. Through social modeling team sport in particular may exert a positive
influence on children’s social anxiety symptoms and social behavior in class
(Bandura 1977).
Although most differences were not statistically significant, a consistent pattern
of results emerged: Children involved in team sports scored lower on social anxiety
instruments in both 2007 and 2008. The authors interpret their findings in reference
to a potential positive effect of team sport in helping young people to alleviate their
anxiety in social situations. As Bandura have argued, social settings may provide
positive social models enabling positive social skills and social behaviors on the
child’s part.
Also based on Antonovsky’s (1997) salutogenetic perspective, Løndal (2010b)
carried out a qualitative study among 8- and 9-year-olds doing recreational physical
activity in a Norwegian after-school program. Thirty-six children were observed
during several types of self-chosen and child-managed physical activities, among
others soccer playing. Additionally, a sample of the children was chosen for an
individual, qualitative research interview. The study suggests that the children’s
self-managed physical activities together with other children are experienced as

predictable. The children also enjoy a sufficient degree of participation in shaping
their own situation. This establishes important basic experiences for a positive
development of comprehensibility, manageability, and meaningfulness. According
to Antonovsky’s (1997) salutogenetic model, these components will promote
a sense of coherence and thus promote well-being. The results of the study are
not, however, unambiguous. Two alternative psychological profiles emerged. The
first of these profiles experiences much negative in life, and this contributes
to a reduced sense of coherence. Self-chosen recreational soccer playing during
after-school activities has a positive effect on this profile. It implies a breathing
space with pleasure and satisfaction, with participating in shaping outcomes. Soccer
playing in the after-school program represents a sphere in life which is experienced
as manageable and gives a meaning to existence. For this profile, this type of
activity has the potential of promoting the sense of coherence. The other profile
reflects the opposite tendency. Negative experiences of physical activity, especially
during soccer playing, with repetitive exclusion and unfriendly reports, result in
this profile experiences unpredictability and little participation in shaping
outcomes. This contributes negatively to the components of comprehensibility,
manageability, and meaningfulness, and thereby hindering a sense of coherence
and well-being (ibid.).
In a recent meta-analysis of the relationship between children’s physical activity
and mental health (Fedewa and Ahn 2011), the authors, besides focusing on
traditional well-being compromising factors (e.g., depression, anxiety, psycholog-
ical distress, and emotional disturbance) (Huppert 2009), also included examination
on self-esteem effects. Indeed, self-esteem has been forwarded as an indicator of
mental/psychological well-being (Kernis et al. 1993) and a buffer against the onset
of childhood mental disorder (Fedewa and Ahn 2011). The meta-analysis revealed
that increased levels of physical activity had significant effects in reducing anxiety,
depression, psychological distress, and emotional disturbance in children. The
effect was shown to be evident both in RCT studies and those not including
a randomized control trial. The positive effects found for self-esteem were even
stronger when considering RCT studies than those with a correlation design.
Moreover, the beneficial effect on self-esteem was shown to be equally strong for
obese/overweight children as those being normal weight. Moderating factors were
type of activity and activity intensity. The findings were that a combination of
aerobic and resistance training was most beneficial together with activities of high
physical intensity in enhancing self-esteem aspects of children’s psychological
well-being.
While this meta-analysis did not differ between generalized physical activity
and other formats of physical activity (e.g., moderate to vigorous physical
activity versus team-sport participation) as predictor, a recent review of studies
(Johnson and Taliaferro 2011) did so. These researchers obtained evidence of an
equally strong influence of both team-sport participation and moderate to vigorous
physical activity in alleviating the abovementioned indices of ill-being. The
question of why team sport may help alleviate depressive symptoms was more
closely examined in a study on young Canadian boys and girls (Boone and
Leadbeater 2006). The authors built on previous research showing that lack of social
acceptance and body dissatisfaction represent significant precursors of depressive
symptoms. Extending this research by setting up a model in which positive
team-sport involvement was hypothesized to alleviate these negative effects,
they found that taking part in team sport provided positive experiences in terms
of constructive coaching, skill development, and constructive peer support and
helped alleviate risk factors for depressive symptoms (e.g., low perceived social
acceptance and bodily dissatisfaction including disliking appearance and negative
body image).
In a recent review of studies on physical activity and mental health in children
and adolescents (Biddle and Asare 2011), several of the findings regarding self-
esteem effects were confirmed. Nevertheless, the effect size in several studies
included was not shown to be impressive. Hence, the authors point to the possible
need of including more domain-specific indices of self-esteem as outcome of
intervention trials aimed to enhance mental health effects such as self-esteem.
While domain-specific measures of self-esteem such as physical self-worth and
body image may show efficient to increase the effect size of outcomes, they should
be considered too narrow to represent valid indices of psychological well-being.
Rather, such measures may be treated as mechanism variables explaining under
which conditions physical activity influences general self-esteem and thus well-
being. Taking advantage of this approach, Haugen et al. (2011) examined mediating
effects of body areas satisfaction, appearance evaluation, and perceived athletic
competence in the relationship between physical activity and global self-esteem.
Results revealed that while all three mediators operated significantly, and nearly
equally strongly in the relationship for both genders, girls physical appearance
evaluation mediated this relationship slightly stronger than the two others than
among boys. Results attest to the role of an “outer sense of self ” in which
appearance aspects of the physical self and the perceived personal importance
attached to this part of the self take on added value for young girls and become
an important prerequisite for their well-being outcomes of physical activity.
Summing up the above studies, it seems that physical activity and specific
formats of sport such as organized team sport hold promise to alleviate symptoms
of psychological ill-being, while also being a positive source for the development of
children’s well-being in the format of positive self-esteem. The research evidence
in this respect seems quite strong in terms of study design in that randomized
control trials provide a strong part of the evidence. While mainly cross-sectional
ones, some studies provide evidence of intrapersonal psychological factors
operating as mechanisms helping explain why physical activity and team-sport
participation alleviate symptoms of ill-being and positively influence well-being in
terms of general self-esteem. These studies do better in terms of explaining under
which social/environmental circumstances physical activity and team-sport
participation play a role for young peoples’ psychological well-being. As such,
the two pieces of empirical evidence spelled out in this part of the chapter seem to
complement each other.
30.9 Future Directions in the Field of Sport, Children, and

Well-Being
We started by sketching a background of the origins and nature of sport for children
and youth and the concept of well-being as understood in the scholarly literature
and proceeded by giving an overview of relevant research in the field.
There is clear evidence that sports, in particular team sports, can enhance
well-being in children and youth. However, well-being outcomes of sport partici-
pation are conditional and require autonomy supportive and mastery-oriented
motivational climates allowing for children’s self-determination, competence
development and sense of being socially related. This would enhance a sense
of taking part for the intrinsic values of the activity; that is the activity’s character
of play. This does not contradict skill development and progress in terms of fitness.
On the contrary, mastery and autonomy supportive climates seem to be crucial not
only to sound skill and performance development but also for keeping children
involved in sport over time. As such, sound psychological conditions in children’s
sport may counteract the tendency to interpret organized, competitive sport as
requiring controlling, result-oriented, and instrumental motivational schemes,
which again are associated with an increase of dropouts. Research points to the
important role of the coach in these circumstances. Competent coaches open the
door to sport as an inclusive and valuable human practice in which individuals and
groups can flourish.
In a similar vein, research demonstrates the significant potential for well-being
of children’s informal physical activity outside of the organized sport setting.
Again, however, optimal well-being outcomes for all children depend upon careful
pedagogical approaches with the right balance of guidance and freedom.
How teachers, coaches, assistants, and other professional and nonprofessional
adults play their roles may have radically different consequences. Adult empathy
with and careful involvement in children’s informal activity are important to
enhance well-being. This requires comprehensive knowledge of children in the
respective ages coupled with a sound ability to make appropriate evaluations and
adaptations.
Modern, high-technological societies seem to stimulate a sedentary lifestyle
with problematic implications for health and well-being. If conducted with compe-
tence and pedagogical insights, organized sport and informal physical activity can
significantly enhance children’s well-being in a variety of ways. Children may
benefit in terms of physical fitness and motor skill learning as well as in terms of
general psychosocial and cognitive functioning. This may help children to
thrive and live well. Moreover, and as revealed by studies on tracking of
physical activity (Telema et al. 2006) and resilience (Masten and Reed 2002), if
practiced in sound and responsible ways, children’s sport and physical activity
can also lead to an active lifestyle on a longer term basis and increase well-being
into adulthood.
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Artistic Activity and Child Well-Being in
Early Schooling: Revisiting the Narratives 31
Jolyn Blank
31.1 Artistic Activity and Child Well-Being in Early Schooling:

Revisiting the Narratives
Well-being is a widely used term in the study of child development, typically used
to refer to a broad and diverse set of ideas surrounding the whole child, that is, the
physical, psychological, cognitive, social, and economic domains as they pertain to
developmental trajectories (Pollard and Lee 2003). There are some types of data
that serve to support efforts to make comparisons across groups and other kinds that
support understanding the nature of particular experiences rooted in personal,
social, and cultural contexts. A strand of the literature seeks to identify a shared
body of indicators in order to best “measure” well-being. Another strand of
literature situates well-being within social and cultural contexts, defining it as
“The ability to successfully, resiliently, and innovatively participate in the routines
and activities deemed significant by a cultural community. Well-being is also the
states of mind and feeling produced by participation in routines and activities”
(Weisner, as cited in Pollard and Lee, p. 65). From this perspective, child well-
being is situated within social and cultural contexts – often created for children by
adults – that children “grow into” as they engage in processes of participation in and
negotiation of these contexts (Rogoff 2003). Therefore, a growing line of research
situates well-being in context and seeks to emphasize focus on “children’s
strengths, assets, and abilities” rather than on the “study of disorders, deficits,
and disabilities” (Pollard and Lee 2003). Because of the complexity of defining
“well-being,” there is a need for greater conceptual clarity of the construct, for
understanding of how it is situated within various social and cultural contexts,
J. Blank
Department of Childhood Education & Literacy Studies, University of South Florida, Tampa,
FL, USA

942 J. Blank
and for greater understanding of methodological approaches to the study of child

well-being (Moore et al. 2007).
The relationship between children’s artistic activities and their well-being is
framed within the larger areas of child health and safety, child educational achieve-
ment and cognitive attainment, and child social and emotional development (Moore
et al. 2007). The relationship is addressed across domains in various ways: the
cognitive domain (e.g., quality of school life, intellectual growth, academic
achievement), the economic domain (e.g., access to arts and “cultural capital”),
physical (e.g., views on the body and how it should be controlled in various
contexts, health and fitness), psychological (e.g., coping with frustration, anxiety,
emotion, experience of trauma, sense of self, positive affect, resilience), and social
(e.g., relationships in home and school, relationships with peers, pro-social behav-
iors, social skills) (Moore et al. 2007; Pollard and Lee 2003).
The Association for Childhood Education International (ACEI) presented
a position paper on “The Child’s Right to Creative Thought and Expression”
(Jalongo 2003). According to the position paper, “The creative process, contrary
to popular opinion, is socially supported, culturally influenced, and collaboratively
achieved” (p. 218). As a well-being indicator, a child’s artistic activity relates to
areas of strength or capacity. ACEI cites evidence regarding imaginative capacities
that appear strong in early life. “Adults may have the advantage when it comes to
storing and retrieving information, [and] drawing upon experience. . . [while] the
creative assets of childhood include a tolerance for ambiguity, a propensity for
nonlinear thinking, and a receptivity to ideas that might be quickly discarded by an
adult as too fanciful to merit further consideration” (p. 219). Artistic experiences
are relevant across the areas and domains typically identified in the literature on
child well-being. Greater understanding of the complexity of those experiences and
the ways in which they are contextually and culturally situated is needed.
Increasing numbers of children around the world spend time in early preschool
contexts outside the home. This chapter will focus on the relationship between
children’s artistic activities and their well-being through the lens of artistic activity
as it is contextualized in these early school contexts. I explore underlying assump-
tions about early schooling as a social and cultural enterprise, images of children as
artists, and arts as pedagogy in order to situate a reconsideration of underlying
assumptions about the relationship between children’s artistic activities and child
well-being.
I begin by situating understandings of children’s artistic activities in the cultural-
historical context of US schools in order to illustrate the complexity of multiple
aims and purposes attributed to early schooling; these multiple interpretations and
squabbles about the purposes of early schooling result in the kinds of school
contexts and experiences adults create for children to negotiate. This is followed
by a discussion about the ways in which artistic activities are situated within school
cultures, highlighting notions about the ways artistic activities have been
constructed as supportive of academic learning, as enrichment or exposure, and
as free self-expression. I argue that artistic activity in early schooling is constrained
by the larger institutional values and by multiple, overlapping images of the
31 Artistic Activity and Child Well-Being 943
child artist. Ultimately, I suggest that these images of the child as artist underesti-
mate young children’s emotional and intellectual capacities and explore an
alternative emerging image that situates artistic activity as a kind of meaning-
making and creates possibilities for more authentic spaces for child voice.
31.2 Artistic Activities in Context: Early Schooling
“‘The beginning, as you know, is always the most important part (Plato, Republic)’.
Only if we get the first steps right, Plato argued, can we set the child on the proper
path to educated adulthood. . . The beginning, and each step of the journey, is
governed by our understanding of the proper aim of education” (Egan 1988, p. 1).
In contrast, Rousseau advocated a romantic view of the child and rejected the
imposition of an adult pedagogy. He wrote in Emile, “Leave childhood to ripen in
your children” (1911, p. 58). Plato’s and Rousseau’s viewpoints have so profoundly
influenced Western thinking about early childhood education that they have pro-
vided the terms, perhaps also the polarities, of major educational debates for over
a century (Egan 1988). The two perspectives reflect a central tension in constructing
children as both capable protagonists and as vulnerable and in need of adult
protection and guidance. Understandings of the child and artistic activities in
schools are situated within this larger tension.
The story of kindergarten expansion in the USA provides an example of the
tensions regarding multiple, at times seemingly contradictory, ideas about what
early schooling should be and do for children and the ways adult discourses
constructed a particular kind of child with particular kinds of capabilities, deficien-
cies, and perceived needs. A perennial tension has involved either placing focus on
early academic instruction in the subject matter areas or on developmental, play-
based approaches that begin with children’s lived experiences and connect to larger
concepts and ideas in the subject matter areas.
The roots of contemporary early childhood education in the USA can be traced,
in part, to the kindergarten expansion movement at the turn of the twentieth century.
The kindergarten was then a new and provocative idea on the educational landscape
in the United States, and Weber (1969) described the movement as an effort to
“transform educational thought in America.” The expansion of the kindergarten in
the USA began as a private service to children of the wealthy led by women who
had been influenced by German educator Froebel. Froebel saw learning as a process
of natural “unfoldment” (Weber 1969. p. 4). He believed “young children acquire
knowledge of physical nature by acting on it and using their senses, an activity he
called play” (Walsh et al. 2001).
Later, kindergarten proponents in the USA created a network of organizations to
make kindergarten available to more children. These associations, such as the Free
Kindergarten Association and International Kindergarten Union (IKU), sought
donations, held training for teachers, and lobbied policy makers (Weber 1969).
The kindergarten movement became tied to philanthropy, “a way to alleviate the
distress of young children” living in slums (p. 38). This early social reformist effort
944 J. Blank
to institutionalize early learning – shifting the locus of educating young children

from the home and family – constructed the child as vulnerable victim in need of
particular kinds of unique early education experiences.
While joining the larger current of educational thought, early childhood educa-
tors hoped to maintain a unique identity and to bring their evolving messages of
play and learning to primary grade instruction. Kindergarten proponents maintained
that unifying kindergarten and public school primary grade instruction would both
legitimize kindergarten and revolutionize primary grade instruction. Yet, despite
the institutional link between kindergarten and primary grades, an ideological
distinction between the play-oriented kindergarten and the academically focused
primary grades seemed to remain (Dombkowski 2001).
Walsh (1992) described this version of the academics or developmental dichot-
omy as an “us against them” orientation that situated early childhood education and
public elementary education at odds. The problem was that administrators, primary
teachers, and kindergarten teachers could not articulate kindergarten’s relationship
to the primary grades (Dombkowski 2001). Should the kindergarten emphasize
fostering creative and social/emotional growth or provide early direct instruction in
literacy and numeracy? Increasing young children’s academic achievement through
more didactic pedagogy and practice testing seems to be a central value in the
current social and cultural context of US early schooling (Jeynes 2006). Rather than
“transforming educational thought,” there is a sense that today’s US kindergarten is
more like yesterday’s first grade (e.g., see Hartigan 2009). In response to a concern
about the impact of a “drop-down” curriculum on children’s well-being, the
National Association for the Education of Young Children published the Guidelines
for Developmentally Appropriate Practices (DAP) (see Copple and Bredekamp
2009 for the most recent version). Yet, the DAP was often misconstrued and used as
an “us versus them,” rather than a kind of “both/and.”
In addition to considering the relationship between prekindergarten, kindergar-
ten, and the primary grades, the developmental versus academics dichotomy also
reflected a set of assumptions about children and larger social and cultural values
related to the purposes of early schooling. Therefore, despite a long-standing value
placed upon notions of child self-expression and play, the place of artistic activities
within contemporary school discourses remains unclear. Is the educative value of
the arts in their potential to support academic learning? Or is it in potential to
support affective development via the opportunity to provide a child with time to
explore media and express ideas and feelings?
The complexity of defining art and its relationship to notions about childhood,
human development, and the purposes of schooling complicates understandings of
the child artist (Burnard and Hennessey 2006). While notions about arts and crea-
tivity in early schooling remain strongly linked to ideas about freedom and individ-
ual self-expression, increasing emphasis has been given to understanding the ways
adults create particular kinds of artistic worlds for children (Bresler and Thompson
2002). In sum, the embodiment of artistic activity in school is a reflection of larger
institutional and cultural values, that is, how adults interpret what it is that is “best”
for children and therefore should be prioritized in the school worlds created for them.
31.3 School Art as a Genre
According to Bresler (2002), school art is a genre in which artistic ideas have been
appropriated for purposes that fit the larger school values. Dominant school art
narratives are influenced by evolving images of children and related beliefs about
development. There are three very central and overlapping stories told about the
nature and purposes of school art for young children. The first has to do with the role
of the arts in supporting academic achievement and school “readiness”. The second
has to do with the role of the art in terms of fostering cultural awareness. The third
has to do with considering artistic activity as self-expression. In this section, I will
address each of these narratives, making them explicit in order to examine them
more carefully.
31.3.1 Mozart Makes You Smarter
One of the stories told about the value of school art prioritizes the potential of
artistic activities to support or enhance academic learning. Consider the recent
“Mozart makes you smarter” phenomenon. This was a result of a set of research
pertaining to the relationship between music, intelligence, and learning. The
linkage has a long and well-established lineage in the education literature,
particularly in terms of bodies of work that relate to critical or “higher-order”
thinking and the relationship between music and other domains such as mathemat-
ical thinking. One of the most well-known stories told about the Mozart effect is
that a US state governor proposed that every family having a child in his state
receive a Mozart CD. The Mozart effect had not only powerful social and political
implications but also became a powerful marketing tool.
I argue that this reflects the understandable need adults have for seeking
stability: What are the right and best learning activities we should provide for
children? What should they look like? If we can identify a formula or treatment
that is stable and good, we can then compare children, identify particular types or
attributes, and “train” adults how to deliver the treatment and achieve expected
outcomes. It would be like fixing a particular make of automobile. This notion of
seeking stability is evident in a line of research and scholarship that deals with
seeking to essentialize and measure the effectiveness of the arts as tools to support
academic learning.
For example, one of the ways artistic activity in school has been explored has
been to seek evidence of transfer from arts experiences to measurements of
academic performance in literacy and math (Gadson 2008). A central strand in
the research on the role of the arts in early learning situates the arts as instrumental
in supporting young children’s academic achievement or school “readiness”
(Russell and Zemblyas 2007). Recent studies have looked at whether art “as
a way of learning” improved literacy, school readiness, and achievement in
academic subject areas (e.g., Brown et al. 2010; Phillips et al. 2010; Zhbanova
et al. 2010). Souto-Manning and James (2010) referred to a “multi-arts” (visual,
946 J. Blank
performing, and language arts) approach to literacy learning as “meaning-making

activity” that involved the “ability to manipulate any set of codes and conventions –
whether it is the words of a language, the symbols in a mathematical system,
or image – to live healthy and productive lives” (p. 83). They suggested, “evidence-
based ‘discoveries’ are of the greatest value in convincing parents, administrators,
colleagues, and policy-makers to support employing a multi-arts approach for the
power and possibility of better learning experiences for every child” (p. 93).
Although discovering the relationship between the arts and academic achieve-
ment is a persistent theme, it is a controversial one. This argument supports
the inclusion of artistic activities in school on the basis that they enhance the
more valued academic subject matter areas. One concern about this argument is
the problem of showing transfer and the paucity of empirical research that supports
the belief that the arts increase academic achievement (Russell and Zemblyas
2007). Another problem is that efforts to show that the arts support academic
learning most often take an instrumental view, suggesting a technical-rational
stance on knowing the world, and “teaching about such a world can be precisely
planned, implemented, and assessed” (Pike 2004, p. 21). Bresler (1994) referred to
this as an imitative stance that perpetuates the academic goals and structures of the
school. To situate the arts as instruments for supporting academic learning may
constrain the expansive power of the arts as ways of meaning-making that build
upon children’s capabilities.
Russell and Zemblas argued, “The goal of this effort should not be to justify
arts integration by showing that student’s achievement is enhanced through arts-
integration programs. . . instead evaluators and researchers should seek to develop
a variety of ways to represent the multiple kinds of student growth in arts integration
programs. Further research should focus on how students’ arts-integrated learning
provides both cognitively and affectively different experiences” (p. 296). In this
light, understanding the value of the arts in children’s school lives has to do with
a drive to seek uncertainty rather than stability, that is, valuing innovation, problem
setting rather than solving, divergent thinking, etc.
31.3.2 Exposure and Enrichment
Another narrative about the role of the arts in early schooling has to do with
a value placed upon providing young children with “exposure” to multicultural
arts, evident in traditions that typify early schooling such as field trips to museums
and cultural centers and the celebration of cultural “heroes and holidays.” In this
narrative, the relationship between artistic activity and well-being has less to do
with achievement in academic subject matter areas and more to do with the
idea that children benefit from exposure to unfamiliar viewpoints and experiences
and from the consideration of multiple perspectives. A concern about the notion
of art as exposure is that educators may unintentionally situate the unfamiliar
as “other.” So-called tourist approaches, critiqued for their superficial and
stereotypical images and activities, remain evident in the life of early schooling
(Ramsey 2004).
Emphasizing school art as “exposure” moved the conversation toward consid-
eration of the ways in which children understand artworks and images, resulting
in dialogue about the kinds of artworks and images that are appropriate for young
children. In early childhood education in particular, this raised awareness about
children’s perceptive capabilities and the appreciation of fine art (Epstein 2008).
Still, the category Bresler called “art for children,” that is, picture books and
other kinds of images created by adults particularly for children, remained
predominant. The selection of images for children focused on evaluations
of those kinds of images considered developmentally appropriate, and this
often alluded to ideas about safe and familiar content, that is, adult-created and
adult-sanctioned imagery.
Visual culture emerged as a way of speaking that emphasized the ways images
are central to children’s representation of and formulation of knowledge of the
world (Alphers as cited in Duncum 2002, p. 15). Building upon the conversation
pertaining to the kinds of images that support child well-being, a line of scholarship
began to address the imagery prevalent in visual culture of children that has been
“excluded from, or seen less worthy of exploration than the traditional forms that
defined Western art” (Kindler 2003, p. 290). Wilson (2003) raised the question,
“Shouldn’t students be given the challenge to connect school art content to their
own interests, many of which come from popular visual culture?” (p. 227). This line
of inquiry explored the ways in which children interpreted the array of imagery
that they encounter in their day-to-day lives (e.g., paintings, drawings, sculpture,
architecture, films, popular images, toys, TV, internet, malls, video games)
(e.g., see Vasquez 2004). Beyond appreciation as exposure to a canon of fine art
or about a matter of selecting developmentally appropriate imagery or art for
children, this raised new questions for inquiry, shifting attention to young children’s
interpretative capabilities and highlighting the ways they create and make sense of
the images in their world. Thompson (2006a) asserted:
When children’s preferences manifest themselves, in the choice of characters to admire,
television programs to watch, toys to campaign for, many adults become uneasy. Much of
this discomfort emerges from our desire to see our children (and to have our children be
seen) doing something serious and worthwhile. . . There is, in this, a mixture of resistance to
adult standards of quality and propriety, assertion of control, and affirmation of children’s
own power to construct an autonomous culture in which they are the experts and guides. (p. 33)
In addition to considering ideas about imagery and what is “good” imagery for
children, considering artistic activity as “exposure” foregrounds young children’s
perceptive capabilities and their capacity for aesthetic response. This shift is critical
in terms of thinking about how adults shape children’s experiences, hear their
voices, and consider their capacities.
For much of the twentieth century, developmentalists attended “to those aspects
of development that can be explained in terms of biology and/or evolution”
(Walsh 2002, p. 102) and in doing so portrayed a universal child who progresses
948 J. Blank
through predictable universal stages. Considering children’s perceptive capabilities

presents challenges because it seems to conflict with powerful and deeply
embedded interpretations of developmental theory – this idea that human beings
develop in a linear fashion through stages (Canella 1997) – that situate children as
sequential learners who begin with the concrete and then move toward abstract
thinking across all domains. Constructing the child in this way constrains the
potential to see the child as capable of hypothesizing and theorizing about distant
and abstract concepts.
In contrast, Egan and Ling (2002) argued that development wasn’t domain
general but rather was domain specific and that the dominant developmental
discourses focus on children’s deficiencies (e.g. logico-mathematical capacities)
that emerge slowly throughout experiences in our early lives and have “largely
ignored those things children do best intellectually, and better typically than adults –
those imaginative skills attached to metaphor and image generation, and to narra-
tive and affective understanding” (p. 95). In terms of perception, Bresler
(1998) noted, “Even preschoolers can assume the stances of producer and per-
ceiver; artistic development occurs as a result of children’s ability to juggle their
activities as creators and viewers” (p. 6).
Foregrounding perception reframes the early childhood traditional emphasis on
making art in a way that heightens awareness of the relationship between producing
and perceiving that challenges “process over product” mantra so common in early
schooling discourses. Beyond treasuring the “process” understood as providing
opportunities to explore media with minimal adult interference, now questions
are raised related to multiple notions about what constitutes self-expression and
how is it part of a cycle of perception and representation.
31.3.3 Self-Expression
Adults cherish the products of children’s explorations with media, and there is
a sense that intervention will spoil the “natural” child aesthetic. For example, when
I spend time in early childhood classrooms, I frequently hear children’s artwork
referred to as “masterpieces,” as in, “Do you want to hang your masterpiece here to
dry?” or “That’s beautiful! Put your masterpiece in your cubby to take home”.
In this section I examine notions about well-being in relation to a “self-expression”
narrative. This is frequently interpreted and embodied in such a way that emphasis
is placed upon providing children opportunities to explore various artistic materials
and media with little adult intervention.
A long line of research has explored the nature of children’s drawing
as symbolic expression. Lowenfeld “delineated stages of artistic development,
moving in predictable order and at designated ages, from what he called the
scribbling stage of infancy to the crisis of adolescence” (Burton 2009, p. 326).
For example, the pre-schematic stage, emerging from a scribble stage, was a
step toward a “conscious creation of form” and the “beginning of graphic
communication” (Lowenfeld and Brittain 1987, p. 157). This derived from an
innate creativity, and therefore “required very modest environmental guidance”

(Burton 2009. p. 326). Children’s artistic activity, then, was “chiefly a means
of self-expression” (Lowenfeld and Brittain, p. 215). This way of construing
self-expression as inborn and individualistic indicated that the kinds of
artistic activities that best supported child well-being were those that involved
providing children with opportunities to experiment with a variety of media in
a variety of ways (Zimmerman 2009). Through this lens, it followed
that because children’s capabilities for visual representation unfolded naturally
along a linear trajectory, a noninterventionist stance should be taken
in terms of interacting with young children during art making (Thompson 2006b).
Stage theories have been widely challenged, yet they remain powerfully embed-
ded in the ways of speaking about children’s artistic experiences. Perhaps concerns
about an excess of adult dominance and providing “cookie-cutter” art activities that
involve following directions rather than individual creativity and expression of any
kind have contributed to the longevity of this notion (McLennan 2010). At the same
time, this interpretation has been challenged for perpetuating a laissez-faire
approach (MacArdle 2008). This notion of how much is the “right amount” and
“right kind” of interaction around artistic activity is a central issue. Alternative
interpretations of artistic development grew from concerns about the universalizing
and essentializing aspects of the stage theories and the tendency to portray children
as deficient adults (Thompson 2006b).
In contrast to stage theories, considering development to be a process of partic-
ipation in particular sociocultural activities (Rogoff 2003) made it possible to
consider the child’s agency in terms of actively selecting appropriate cultural
tools and symbols (Thompson 2007). From this perspective, the historical – rather
than the universal – child comes into greater focus (Walsh 2002). For example,
Wilson (1999) studied the influence of manga on Japanese children’s narrative
drawings and concluded that the manga-like graphic forms evident in the children’s
drawings indicated that children’s drawings were not constrained by developmental
stage. Instead, they drew upon “a pervasive elaborate system of shared images that
carry meaning, beliefs, values, and understanding” (p. 53). Children’s drawings
reflected the selection of strategies that a child considered appropriate for his or her
particular symbolic purpose (Kindler 2007). Therefore, children’s artistic activity
involves a “repertoire of graphic languages, as well as the wit to know when to call
on each” (Wolfe and Perry 1988, p. 18). From this perspective on children’s artistic
activity, the child’s agency in selecting cultural tools and symbol systems comes
into greater focus. Peer and teacher influence are not viewed as interventions that
can potentially damage an innate artistry. Rather, they are “the primary means by
which visual sign making abilities are expanded” (p. 11).
These overlapping narratives about development bring to light a question: What
is meant by “self-expression” in artistic activity in school contexts? Beyond
expressing personal feelings or ideas or demonstrating a particular skill or tech-
nique, artistic expression in school contexts is a complex negotiation of context,
values, and form – the child must interpret the more hidden messages about the
kinds of conventions that are appropriate for the context. Tobin (1995) argued that
950 J. Blank
rather than empowering children to express their ideas or feelings, self-expression

in schools is about socialization into particular kinds of conventional language
forms. In terms of symbolic communication, for example, certain kinds of subjects
are often considered troubling by adults in schools (e.g., the portrayal of death or
violent scenes). Therefore, the potential of symbolic representation as a way to
explore challenging or controversial realms in children’s lives is limited. Hamblen
(2002) put it like this: School art “may involve figuring out what is appropriate [in
the school context], not what one is literally capable of doing” (p. 19). In addition to
content, this set of conventions may also include preferred ways of working.
For example, according to Zimmerman (2009), “In some cultures, collaboration,
cooperation, conformity, and traditions may be valued more than completely novel
solutions to problems” (p. 391). Heightened awareness of “self-expression”
in school as a set of conventions raises a central question: “What can we do to
open ourselves to a multiplicity of perspectives on what constitutes appropriate
expression?” (Tobin, p. 254).
According to Thompson (2006a):

One of the basic tenets of the “creative self-expression” movement, early in the last century,
stipulated that art education should draw its content from children’s life experiences. This
dictum may have been more readily endorsed in theory than it was embodied in practice;
adults are notoriously inept judges of what is of interest to children, though children are
remarkably willing to play along much of the time. But, as Patricia Tarr insists, “Curricula
need to take up children’s questions rather than ignoring or glossing over their issues”
(2003, p. 7). That is, we need to find ways to understand more clearly how children’s life
experiences, including those derived from a commercial culture which we view with
skepticism, can enter and inform the pedagogical spaces we inhabit with them. (p. 41)
31.4 School Art and Well-Being
Another way of framing the relationship between children’s artistic activities

and their well-being is emerging. In this way of understanding artistic activity,
children’s composing events are viewed as contextual and multifaceted experiences
in which it is difficult to discern between process and product (Wright 2007).
The art “product” is then considered to be the multimodal enactment itself, with
any resulting artifacts serving to provide evidence that an artistic experience
may have occurred. This view reflects value placed upon imagining children as
emotionally and intellectually capable and as knowledgeable about their worlds.
Therefore, ideas about child voice and agency come across in the discourse
surrounding the arts as multimodal communication. The arts provide avenues –
multiple pathways a child may choose in order to explore, communicate, and revise
complex ideas and feelings – to make sense of and create meaning from their
experiences (Burton 2009). Rather than underestimating children’s “competence
and integrity,” this expanded definition of literary values the child’s culturally
acquired resources for making and communicating meaning to others.
Study of graphic representation in the schools of Reggio Emilia, Italy, brought

attention to the idea of child as protagonist who has “a hundred languages” at his or
her disposal. Vecchi (2007) described it this way: “Visual language [is] a means of
inquiry and investigation of the world, to build bridges and relationships between
cognitive and expressive processes.” Narey (2009) describe artistic activity as
a kind of language “constructed in a variety of sensory/representational modalities,
not limited to human speech and writing” (p. 2). Dyson (1990) referred to children’s
symbol-weaving, that is, incorporating multiple modes (e.g., dramatic play and
marks on a page) in a composing event. Wright (2007) saw understanding chil-
dren’s multimodal texts to involve “seeing how young children move among sign
systems and invent connections between the different forms of symbolizing –
drawing, storytelling, dramatizing, using sound effects, gesturing, moving expres-
sively” (p. 2). According to Thompson (2006a), “As the work created by children in
Reggio Emilia and in other supportive contexts attests, children’s facility as inter-
preters and producers of visual imagery is far more sophisticated than we may
suspect, when demonstrated in contexts in which children themselves are seen as
‘rich, strong, and powerful’ [emphasis added].”
In this view, young children – even before they are inducted into the world of
adult reading and writing – engage in communication via a “semiotic process[es]
that occur in all interactive and sociocultural environments and result in a pluri-
media (graphic, vocal/verbal, gestural) manifestation” (Kindler & Darras as cited in
Richards 2007). Young children draw, build, paint, dramatize, play, dance, and sing
their understandings of the world (Gallas 1994). Further, multimodal perspectives
are concerned with children’s capacity to both create and interpret meaningful
“signs” (e.g., print, images, film) (Hilton 2006).
Yet, this view of children’s artistic activity as embodiment of their capacities
for understanding the world are devalued in a world of early schooling that increas-
ingly – as a result of misconceptions about and lack of understanding of how
to foster the relationship between artistic activity and child well-being across
domains – emphasizes logico-mathematical and linguistic skills like copy writing.
Although we know that young children may perform skills like counting and change
operations and copy writing, meaning is lost. What is the purpose of early schooling?
An emerging line of research focuses on multimodal meaning-making in early
schooling. Deans and Brown (2008) investigated a collaboration between teachers,
artists, and children engaging in multi-symbolic representation within an emergent
curriculum design. They documented a shift in the way the adults constructed
school art, moving from aesthetically pleasing activities toward including
a broader array of intellectual and interpretive processes.
Using literacy practices from the New Literacy Studies as a lens, Pahl (2007)
examined children’s composing events. She argued that this way of approaching
creativity focuses on looking at the ways children’s texts draw upon social practice,
taking ideas from school, home, and community contexts. Haggerty and Mitchell
(2010) investigated the nature of and meanings 3- and 4-year-old children in
a preschool classroom gave to multimodal communication and the roles of
people, places, and practices in mediating children’s use of multimodal literacy.
952 J. Blank
They argued that some semiotic modes were favored ways to communicate for
children and suggested that favored modes provided avenues for children to com-
municate, think, and theorize in ways that others do not; therefore, multimodal
literacies support early learning. Bhroin (2007) found that children intertwined art,
play, and personal life experiences. She argued that engaging in this kind of artistic
activity carried intense personal meaning for children.
Although much of the research pertaining to young children’s artistic growth has
involved looking at children’s completed drawings as objects of study, from
a multimodal perspective, it is important to look at the composing event
itself and the way it is situated in particular cultural contexts (Thompson 2006b).
Wright (2007) differentiated between the “synopsis versions of children’s
drawings-stories” that typically result when adults prompt children to talk about
their work and the “type of participation that actually occurs during the child’s
enactment” (p. 10). Seeing children’s composing events as contextual and multi-
faceted experiences makes it difficult to discern process and product (Wright 2007).
The art product can be considered to be the multimodal enactment, with any
resulting artifacts serving to provide evidence that an artistic experience may
have occurred. Genishi and Dyson (2009) argued that heightened awareness of
multimodal composing create a set of conditions in which it is possible to value and
build upon a broad array of capacities for meaning-making.
31.5 Concluding Thoughts
“Child well-being” and “school art” are complex, culturally situated concepts.
Therefore, well-being (or well-becoming) is part of a process of acquiring ways
of doing and being that are required in order to successfully participate in a cultural
community. In this chapter I focused on the school as a cultural community,
that is, a site created for children by adults that reflects larger cultural values
and goals that reflect evolving notions about childhood and development
embodied in sets of routines and conventions that children are expected to
learn to navigate.
According to New (1999), evolving and multilayered images of children “make
clear their remarkable capacity to learn what is expected of them, whether that
entails sleeping alone or with others, feeding and dressing one’s self or caring for
a younger sibling, crafting delicate origami or herding cattle, and learning to speak
sign language or to speak only when spoken to” (What Can Children Learn section).
Addressing the US National Goals Panel’s declaration, “All children shall come to
school ready to learn,” Katz (2007) posed the following question: “How should the
sentence ‘All children shall come to school ready to learn’ be completed? Ready to
learn what? Probably it could end ‘. . . ready to learn whatever the school wants
them to learn.’”
Early schooling is historically fraught with tensions and seemingly competing
values. One of the central tensions has to do with a complex set of beliefs and
practices surrounding the central purpose of early schooling as emphasizing
didactic acquisition of academic knowledge and skills or as emphasizing a devel-

opmental approach in which learning is situated in meaningful contexts and foster-
ing creative and affective social-emotional growth is central. I acknowledge that
positioning these two kinds of emphases as an either-or is an oversimplification, but
I do so for the purposes of contextualizing the discussion pertaining to
artistic activity in schools, an activity that is shaped by these kinds of larger
school discourses.
One of the central themes in the discussion pertaining to artistic activity in
school has been to advocate for artistic activities because they support academic
learning in powerful ways (Higgins 2008). Yet, despite efforts to show transfer
and measureable academic achievement as the result of the arts, this remains
questionable. Instead of focusing on what kinds of inputs we should deliver, Katz
(2007) suggests we pose the following questions: “What kind of experiences is each
child having much of the time?” and “What does it feel like to be a child in this
environment day after day after day?” Furthermore, Katz (2007) asserts:
A curriculum or teaching method focused on academic goals emphasizes the acquisition of
bits of knowledge and overlooks the centrality of understanding as an educational goal.
After all, literacy and numeracy skills are not ends in themselves but basic tools that
can and should be applied in the quest for understanding. In other words, children
should be helped to acquire academic skills in the service of their intellectual dispositions,
and not at their expense.
A second set of arguments alludes to the ways in which artistic activity offers
something unique and expansive to the school experience (Higgins 2008). Higgins
cautions that we too often reduce this second set of arguments to a group of clichés.
It follows, for me, that understanding the relationship between artistic activities
and well-being requires going beyond the clichés. It involves acknowledging that
we create contexts that constrain development in multiple complex ways – we
create possible worlds and impossible worlds for children in schools. In this
chapter I’ve suggested that some of these clichés – the arts make you smarter,
arts as exposure, and arts as “free” self-expression – do little to help us understand
the relationship between artistic activity and children’s well-being. Instead,
understanding and supporting the relationship can only begin with a closer look
at the stories we tell about children and the arts and the underlying values and
assumptions about childhood, development, and the arts that are deeply embedded
within them.
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Civic Engagement and Child and
Adolescent Well-Being 32
Daniel Hart, Kyle Matsuba, and Robert Atkins
32.1 Well-Being and Civic Life
32.1.1 Well-Being and the Individual
Human Flourishing. Civic participation often seems like an accessory in the everyday
lives of children and adolescents. Children and adolescents are generally given wide
personal discretion in choosing whether or not to participate in political discussions,
engage with community social institutions, and volunteer to advance the welfare of
those in their communities. There are exceptions of course; many schools have
mandatory classes intended to transmit civic knowledge, and occasionally schools
and youth organizations require an afternoon of public service. Nonetheless, in the
lives of children and adolescents, civic participation is perhaps like art or sports, in that
benefits are generally assumed to arise from participation, yet these benefits, at least
for the individual, are sufficiently minor that children and adolescents are accorded
some degree of choice in whether to engage in the activities or not.
The voluntary or near-voluntary nature of civic participation for children and
adolescents makes it a different sort of activity than attending school. Success in school
has well-known consequences for the life course; those who succeed in high school and
attend college are more likely than those who do not to earn high salaries, marry
successfully, and avoid social pathologies such as criminal activity and joblessness.
Because educational achievement is so important for individual success – true in many
cultures around the world – there is widespread appreciation for education in the
D. Hart (*)
Institute for Effective Education, Rutgers University, Camden, NJ, USA
K. Matsuba
Kwantlen University, Richmond, Canada
R. Atkins
Rutgers University, Camden, NJ, USA

958 D. Hart et al.
development of well-being. There are no findings, to our knowledge, that indicate that
civic participation in childhood or in adolescence has such dramatic impacts on the life
course. Indeed, a hypothesis that we will examine in a later section is that civic
participation in adolescence may have adverse effects on well-being. There are reasons
for imagining that civic participation can be detrimental; for example, American men
voting for winning candidates may experience increases in testosterone, which in turn
may produce increased interest in pornography (Markey and Markey 2011).
But what if men who have just voted report pleasure in viewing pornography? Is
even this sort of pleasure sufficient to conclude that heightened interest in pornography
as a result of civic participation represents an increase in well-being? In our opinion,
the answer is no. Well-being, the focus of the handbook, is different from pleasure.
Well-being refers to the complex of virtues, reflection, and integration labeled
eudaimonia in ancient Greek philosophy, a notion vibrant in modern ethical philos-
ophy (Hursthouse 2012). Eudaimonia can best be understood as human flourishing
derived in part from rational cultivation of one’s propensities for virtuous life.
Aristotle was certainly one of the first influential proponents of the centrality of
civic participation for eudaimonia. Shields writes that Plato “advances a form of
political naturalism which treats human beings as by nature political animals, not
only in the weak sense of being gregariously disposed, nor even in the sense of their
merely benefiting from mutual commercial exchange, but in the strong sense of
their flourishing as human beings at all only within the framework of an organized
polis” (Shields 2012). By polis Aristotle meant a community of citizens with shared
interests working together to promote each individual’s striving toward virtue
and eudaimonia. Participation in government, working with others to promote
flourishing, Aristotle thought, allowed citizens to achieve eudaimonia.
Aristotle did not imagine that children and adolescents ought to participate in
government, however. Nor did he think that women could benefit, and he viewed as
just the exclusion of slaves and craftsmen from civic participation. In Aristotle’s
vision, citizenship was restricted to wealthy men who could devote hours a day to
political activity.
While Aristotle hoped for societies governed by wealthy men, the benefits he
imagined for the individual deriving from participation in the civic life of the
community do not seem necessarily restricted to only this population. More gener-
ally, participation in political life offers the opportunity for the individual to express
social virtues and bring these virtues into harmony with each other through reflec-
tion guided by social interaction with others. John Stuart Mill, the great political
philosopher, wrote that we should “recognize a potent instrument of mental
improvement in the exercise of political franchises,” and as a consequence one of
the “foremost benefits of free government is that education of the intelligence and
of the sentiments which is carried down to the very lowest ranks of the people when
they are called to take a part in acts which directly affect the great interests of their
country” (Mill 1861). In other words, there is no reason that children and adolescents
cannot similarly benefit; the only condition, it would seem, is that political life be
populated with individuals sincere in their efforts to produce forms of social life
consonant with human flourishing (Duvall and Dotson 1998).
32 Civic Engagement and Child and Adolescent Well-Being 959
We can derive from this interpretation of Aristotle’s work the hypothesis that
civic participation can scaffold children and adolescents’ social activity to allow the
expression and integration of virtues. Phrased in terms more familiar to psycholo-
gists, the Aristotelian view leads to the expectation that civic participation can lead
to prosocial development and psychological integration.
Aptitude Development. Our Aristotelian notion that eudemonia can be fostered
by civic participation focuses on broad constructs of human functioning: virtues,
reflective coordination, integration, and the like. But effective participation in civic
life may rest on the acquisition of specific aptitudes such as knowledge of civic and
political matters, beliefs in the trustworthiness of others and the effectiveness of
participation, and the skills necessary to engage with political actors and societal
institutions. These are often studied by those interested in civic development, and
we shall review this research in a later section.
32.1.2 Well-Being and Institutions
Civic participation enhances the well-being of societies and institutions as well as

improving the lives of individuals. Aristotle clearly believed that the efforts of
many citizens were necessary to provide for societies supportive of eudaimonia.
Virtually every political theorist since has made the same point. Politicians and
government officials respond to the interests of groups that vote. Low rates of
voting oftentimes are associated with electorates that are unrepresentative of the
general population (Lijphart 1997). Moon and colleagues (Moon et al. 2006) have
demonstrated that the extent of civic participation among adults in a society is
associated with the democratic and economic success of a country. Countries in
which most adults vote are more stably democratic, egalitarian, and more success-
ful in cultivating human development (nutrition, education, and so on) than are
countries in which relatively few adults vote (Moon et al. 2006).
Voting is not the only kind of civic participation. Volunteering, for example,
is an important form of contributing to the welfare of a community. In the
United States, which is characterized by high levels of volunteering relative to
that observed in other countries, the value of donated labor in the form
of volunteering is estimated to be worth more than 280 billion dollars
(Independent Sector 2005). Children and adolescents volunteer at similarly
high levels, and, while their services probably are not as valuable monetarily
as those of adults, they make real and important contributions to their neigh-
bors and communities.
32.2 Identifying Civic Participation’s Developmental Influence
Philosophy and the social sciences converge in linking civic participation in

childhood and adolescence with flourishing. As we noted, philosophers have fairly
960 D. Hart et al.
divergent perspectives on what kinds of flourishing, or well-being, might result

from different types of civic engagement. Consistent with the broad Aristotelian
view described earlier, some theorists have argued that civic participation has
benefits for many facets of development. There is good reason for this view, as
the evidence generally indicates that civic participation in adolescence is associated
with a wide range of positive characteristics.
One source of evidence for this view can be drawn from the IEA Civic Education
Study (these data are available from http://dx.doi.org/10.3886/ICPSR21661).
Participants in the study were 14-year-old students from 27 countries, who were
surveyed about their political attitudes, knowledge, and activities, and were asked
to report how many years of further education they expected to complete. We
interpret responses to this latter question as an indication of educational aspirations,
with aspirations higher among students reporting more years than among students
reporting fewer. Students were asked if they had participated in student council or
student government (“yes” or “no”) and in a group conducting voluntary activities
to help the community (“yes” or “no”). If civic participation is linked to flourishing,
then students who have experienced civic participation should have higher educa-
tional aspirations than those without civic engagement experiences.
Figure 32.1 displays average levels of expected years of further education for
students with and without student government experience in five randomly
selected countries. The pattern is quite clear: Students who have been members
of student governments in their schools have higher educational aspirations than
do students without student government experience. It is possible, of course, that
the association of student government participation and educational aspirations
is an artifact of the connection of each to school. However, Fig. 32.2 depicts
average levels of expected years of further education as a function of experience
in voluntary community service in five randomly selected countries, and the
same pattern emerges. There is a clear pattern across countries; students with
civic participation experiences have higher educational aspirations than do
students without these experiences.
The link of civic participation to well-being is not limited to educational aspirations.
To give some sense of the findings that emerge from studies of civic engagement and
developmental outcomes, we have drawn from the data collected in the National
Educational Longitudinal Survey of 1988 (NELS:88) from a representative sample
of American adolescents (this data set is described thoroughly by Hart, Donnelly,
Atkins, and Youniss 2007). Participants in this study were asked: “Did you volunteer in
a civic or community service organization in the past 12 months?” Respondents who
answered affirmatively were assigned to the community service group, while those who
said no were placed in the no service group. Participants also completed self-report
measures of self-esteem, internal locus of control, and delinquency, and took standard-
ized tests of reading and mathematics.
Figure 32.3 depicts average z-scores for each variable by community service
status. Those who reported having performed community service are characterized
by a much more positive profile of scores than those in the other category; in
comparison to the non-volunteers, volunteers were about .5 of a standard deviation
0.4
Variable
Achievement
Control
Delinquency
Self-Esteem
0.2
Z-Score
0.0
Community Service No Service
Fig. 32.1 Years of additional education expected by 14-year-olds with, and without, student council
participation experience in five countries (Data drawn from the IEA Civic Education Study)
higher on the measure of reading and mathematics, .3 of a standard deviation higher

internal locus of control, .2 of a standard deviation higher in self-esteem, and .2 of
a standard deviation lower in delinquency. In short, voluntary community service is
associated with a broad array of positive outcomes for the individual.
The civic participation of adolescents is also associated with societal well-being.
In the IEA Civic Education Study of 14-year-olds from 27 countries, described
earlier, adolescents were asked how frequently they participated in a range of
largely civic organizations (including student government, scouts, environmental
organizations, and so on) on a 4-point scale ranging from “never” to “daily.” We
computed the average for adolescents in each of the countries and have related these
averages to the extent to which each country is characterized by a respect for
the rule of law in 2002, one indicator of the quality of societal functioning.
This indicator and others are available from the World Bank (http://info.
worldbank.org/governance/wgi/resources.htm). The results are depicted in
Fig. 32.4. Countries (identified in Fig. 32.4 with their three letter ISO codes) in
which adolescents are regularly participating in civic organizations have societies
962 D. Hart et al.
7−8
Student Council
NO
YES
Years of Additional Education Expected
5−6
3−4
1−2
0
Bulgaria Colombia England Greece Latvia Portugal
Fig. 32.2 Years of additional education expected by 14-year-olds with, and without, experience
in community service in five countries (Data drawn from the IEA Civic Education Study)
higher in respect for law, on average, than do countries in which adolescents spend
less time involved in organizations. The relationship between adolescent participa-
tion and societal functioning depicted in Fig. 32.4 is not perfect; there are countries
with relatively high levels of participation in which citizens have little respect for
the rule of law (e.g., Russia) and others in which civic participation among
adolescents is relatively low (e.g., Hong Kong) yet respect for the law is
quite high.
32.3 Entry into Civic Engagement
The Aristotelian perspective and our presentation of associations in Figs. 32.1, 32.2,
32.3 and 32.4 suggest that civic participation promotes the well-being of indi-
viduals and social institutions. What leads adolescents into civic participation?
How can we encourage civic engagement? These are the questions that we
address in this section.
7−8
Community Service
NO
YES
5−6
Years of Additional Education Expected
3−4
1−2
0
Australia Chile Denmark Germany Italy Poland
Fig. 32.3 Mean levels by community service status for participants in the NELS:88
32.3.1 Individual Characteristics and Civic Participation
Atkins, Hart, and Donnelly (2005) proposed that one form of civic engagement,
volunteering, likely has roots in childhood personality. Specifically, they proposed
that children who could be characterized as resilient – whose personalities were
characterized by positive emotion, emotion regulation, and positive engagement
with the world – would be more likely to volunteer in adolescents than would
children less able to control their emotions and interact effectively with others. In
other words, they hypothesized that entry into community service in the form of
volunteering is a reflection of healthy functioning, not necessarily a cause of it.
To test this hypothesis, Atkins and colleagues made use of data from a large
national sample of children and adolescents in the United States who were followed
from early childhood into adulthood. When the children were either 5 or 6 years of
age, their mothers characterized their personalities. Based on the ratings provided
by mothers, children were assigned to one of three personality types: resilient,
964 D. Hart et al.
EIN CHE
2.0 SWE NOR DNK
ENG AUS
DEU USA
1.5 BFR
HKG PRT CHL
Respect for Law Among Citizens
SVN
1.0
HUN
CYP EST ITA GRC
CZE
POL
0.5 LTU LVA

SVK
BGR
0.0
ROM
−0.5
COL RUS
0.5 1.0 1.5 2.0
Frequency of Adolescent Participation
Fig. 32.4 Respect for law in a country as a function of adolescent time commitment to civic
organizations
overcontrolled (characterized by high levels of shyness and anxiety), and under-

controlled (characterized by impulsiveness and aggression). Eight and ten years
later, the children, now adolescents, reported whether they had volunteered in their
communities in the previous year. The advantage of the longitudinal design is that
5- and 6-year-olds are unlikely to be active civically, and consequently the mea-
surement of personality is almost certainly years in advance of civic participation.
Atkins and colleagues found that children characterized as resilient at ages 5 and
6 were 30 % more likely than children assigned to the overcontrolled personality
type and 50 % more likely than children resembling the under-controlled type, to
volunteer in adolescence. These findings held even after statistically adjusting for
children’s IQ, maternal educational attainment, and family income (the latter two
factors were also associated with volunteering). These are among the strongest
findings indicating that flourishing, in this case in the form of a resilient personality,
can lead adolescents into civic participation.
Several other studies bolster the conclusion that entry into civic participation
in part reflects a healthy personality. Jack Block (Block and Block 2006) followed
a sample of California youth from very early childhood into early adulthood. When
the participants were in nursery school, their personalities were assessed by six
independent observers, each characterizing the child in terms of 100 personality
items. The ratings of the observers were averaged together. Block used these ratings
to characterize each child’s (a) ego-resiliency, as indicated by emotional regulation
and success in engaging others in social interaction, and (b) ego-control, or
behavioral restraint.
Twenty years later, the participants reported their political attitudes and partic-
ipation in three political activities: attendance at a political rally or demonstration,
written letters to express political views, and participation in a politically motivated
boycott of a company. Analyses indicated that participation in these three types of
political activity was correlated with liberal political views, and consequently
Block formed a summary variable composed of the measures of political attitudes
and political activity.
Block found that personality measured in nursery school predicted political
attitudes and civic participation in early adulthood. Specifically, Block found that
children at ages 3 and 4 who were judged to have high ego resilience had more
liberal attitudes and were more likely to have participated politically in early
adulthood than were those who were judged to have low ego resilience in child-
hood. These findings, like those of Atkins and his colleagues, demonstrate that entry
into civic and political class action is partly a reflection of personality tendencies
evident in childhood.
The findings indicating that personality tendencies evident in childhood facili-
tate entry into civic participation in adolescence and adulthood are important
theoretically, because they demonstrate that well-being is not only a product of
civic engagement but, to some extent, a precursor of it as well. However, civic
participation is multiply determined; indeed, personality influences play only
a small role in determining the extent of that stuff in civic life. Matsuba et al.
(2007) examined the relative contributions of personality, social institutions and
social relationships, and civic and moral attitudes to the prediction of volunteering
in adulthood. They found that the best predictor of this form of civic participation
was social capital in the form of relationships, friendships, and memberships in
social institutions. Smith (1999) studied a large nationally representative sample of
American adolescence followed from age 14 into early adulthood. As teenagers,
participants reported their memberships in clubs, teams, and religious institutions.
In addition, information about academic achievement, self-concept, and parental
social class was collected. In early adulthood, participants reported whether they
had recently voted and volunteered. Smith found that the best pictures of voting in
volunteering in early adulthood were the measures of adolescent social capital, that
is, memberships in clubs, teams, and religious institutions. Adolescents who
reported many memberships were much more likely to vote and to volunteer in
adulthood than were adolescents without social connections.
966 D. Hart et al.
32.3.2 Families
There is abundant evidence suggesting that families that are privileged and func-
tioning well facilitate adolescent entry into civic participation. Hart, Atkins,
Markey, and Youniss (2004) reported analyses of data from two nationally repre-
sentative surveys of families in the United States. They found in both surveys that
parental income and parental educational attainment were positively associated
with the likelihood that adolescents would volunteer in their communities. Simi-
larly, using a different national survey, Hart, Donnelly, Atkins, and Youniss
(2007) found that maternal educational attainment and family income assessed in
childhood predicted volunteering; adolescents with highly educated mothers and
living in wealthy families were more likely to volunteer than were adolescents
whose parents had relatively little formal education and money.
Privileged families may facilitate adolescent civic participation by connecting
youth to the institutions that provide opportunities for civic engagement. Matsuba
et al. (2007) demonstrated that among the many influences that lead to volunteering –
personality, social class, moral and civic attitudes – personal relationships and
memberships in social institutions are among the most important. This is because
volunteering often originates in a request for assistance made by churches, schools,
community groups, and civic organizations. When asked to help, many people
volunteer. This means that by connecting youth to social institutions, parents are
placing their children and teenagers in contexts in which they will be actively
recruited into community service.
The connection of social class to civic participation holds historically in the
United States. Wray-Lake and colleagues (Syvertsen et al. 2011; Wray-Lake and
Hart 2012) have examined the relation of social class to civic participation and
intentions to vote in samples of Americans from several decades, and the pattern is
quite regular. Whether social class is measured by educational aspirations
(Syvertsen et al. 2011) or by early adulthood educational attainment (Wray-Lake
and Hart 2012), those in, or aspiring to, higher social classes participate at higher
rates than adolescents or young adults with, or desiring, less education.
The relation of social class to civic development is not unique to the United
States. International studies of civics knowledge, education, and participation
regularly report associations between maternal educational attainment, one indica-
tor of social class, and markers of civic development in European and South
American countries (Amadeo et al. 2002). The association of social class with
civic and political knowledge is particularly robust in these international studies
and may be the route of influence through which social class affects civic partic-
ipation. Hart, Atkins, and Ford (1998) and Syvertsen and colleagues (2011) have
addressed the social policy implications of social class and civic development.
Positive family climates are also associated with adolescent civic participation.
Fletcher, Elder, and Mekos (2000) followed longitudinally a sample of families in
the American Midwest and found that adolescents whose families were high in
warmth were more likely to become civically engaged than were adolescents whose
families exhibited less positive involvement in the lives of their adolescents.
Parental warmth is positively associated with many good outcomes in childhood

and adolescence, including academic achievement, prosocial development, effec-
tive interpersonal functioning, and so on. Consequently, parental warmth probably
facilitates adolescent entry into civic participation through several paths, with these
paths all leading to personality resilience and social success.
A third route of influence of parents on their children is through modeling.
Analyses of national survey data demonstrate that children and adolescents whose
parents are civically engaged are more likely to volunteer in their communities than
are youth whose parents are not civically engaged. Hart, Atkins, Markey, and
Youniss (2004) found using logistic regression that parental volunteering increased
the odds of adolescents participating in voluntary community service by 30 %. This
relation held up even after statistical adjustments for academic achievement,
adolescent involvement in clubs and teams, social class, and a variety of neighbor-
hood characteristics.
32.3.3 Schools
Schools are the most frequently studied context for observing the consequences of
civic participation on child and adolescent well-being. There is ample evidence
s that classrooms characterized by open discussion, learning about ways to improve
one’s community, and meaningful consideration of political issues deepen com-
mitment to civic participation in students. Kahne and Sporte (2008) asked adoles-
cents in Chicago whether they imagined that in the next several years that they
would become involved in a variety of community activities such as improving
their communities and working with government agencies and demonstrated that
adolescents who were most likely to project future involvement in community
activities were those enrolled in classrooms featuring open discussion of political
and community activities. Torney-Purta et al. (2007) found that students in Chile,
Denmark, England, and the United States who discussed community problems in
school were higher in social trust and prosocial attitudes than were adolescents who
did not experience these kinds of conversations in their classrooms.
There is also evidence indicating that requiring civic participation of adolescents
in schools seems to facilitate later participation. Hart, Donnelly, Atkins, and
Youniss (2007) used data from the NELS:88 (described earlier) to estimate that
young adults who had been required by their high schools to participate in com-
munity service 8 years earlier were 15 % more likely to vote for president of the
United States than were adults who had no community service experience in high
school, suggesting a substantial benefit to mandatory community service. Hart and
colleagues reported that mandatory community service in high school seemed more
effective in increasing later voting than adding traditional civics courses to the
curriculum. Metz and Youniss (2003) found that students in a high school that
instituted a requirement that students volunteer 40 h in order to graduate were more
likely to volunteer after completion of the requirement than were students in the
same school prior to the implementation of the requirement.
968 D. Hart et al.
The combination of civic participation and classroom learning about how to

address community issues may provide the most potent combination for increasing
civic participation. Torney-Purta et al. (2007) found that students in countries in which
civic participation in classroom learning focused on addressing local issues reported
higher levels of internal political efficacy, school efficacy, support for norms of
conventional political participation, and likelihood of voting than students residing in
countries in which either or both of these classroom experiences were relatively absent.
32.3.4 Communities
Civic participation among adults varies substantially from community to commu-

nity within societies. Many of factors account for this variability, including the
educational levels of adults residing in the community, the socioeconomic vitality
of the area, and the racial and ethnic composition of the community, to name just
a few (Putnam 2007). These same factors likely affect the entry of children and
adolescents into civic participation, although little research is available on the topic.
One characteristic of communities that affects civic participation in adolescence
is child saturation, the percentage of the population under the age of 15 in
a community. Communities in which a large fraction of the population is under
the age of 15 are considered to be high in child saturation, while those in which
there are relatively few children and many adults are low in child saturation. Hart,
Atkins, Markey, and Youniss (2004) found that communities high in child satura-
tion generally facilitated entry into volunteering among adolescents. They argued
that adolescents in neighborhoods with lots of other children and adolescents are led
by the examples of their peers and through peer pressure into voluntary community
service. Hart and colleagues found that one exception to this general trend was in
communities both extremely high in child saturation and extremely high in poverty;
in these neighborhoods volunteering was very low. The authors hypothesized that
the combination of many children and adolescents in the neighborhood combined
with high levels of poverty resulted in few adults and few neighborhood institutions
to structure opportunities to enter into civic participation for adolescents.
One implication of this research is that to the extent that civic participation is
beneficial for children and adolescents, opportunities to gain civic participation
experience are unequally distributed in many societies. Families and schools can
create contexts in which children and adolescents can gain civic experiences, but
exhorting families and schools to inculcate civic habits in children and adolescents
will not ensure by itself equal opportunity to gain civic experience among youth
from living in communities divided by income, crime, and so on.
32.3.5 Countries
Countries vary substantially in the types and number of civic participation oppor-
tunities offered to children and adolescents. Figures 32.1, 32.2, and 32.4, presented
earlier in the chapter, illustrate this fact of civic life. These differences surely
matter. Unfortunately, however, how these differences matter for understanding
development in different countries is largely a mystery. As Torney-Purta et al.
(2007) point out, there is very little research on civic participation in adolescence
utilizing a transnational perspective. The consequence is that we know very little
about how different patterns of civic participation around the world influence the
development of adolescents.
32.4 Evidence: The Case of Service-Learning
Our chapter to this point has suggested that civic participation in childhood and
adolescence is good and ought to be facilitated. The patterns of findings in
Figs. 32.1, 32.2, 32.3 and 32.4 are broadly representative of the field and suggest
that civic participation is beneficial for the development of children and adolescents
as well as for the societies they live in. We also outlined the kinds of contexts in
which civic participation can be intentionally facilitated.
However, in our view, the evidence for the benefits of civic participation for
children and adolescents is weaker than generally recognized, and the limitations of
the knowledge base deserve some exploration. Our goal in examining the weak-
nesses of the extant research is to encourage better work on the topic. We focus our
review on service-learning, the most frequently studied intervention intended to
increase civic participation in children and youth, as the problems in this domain
characterize the field.
Service-learning has long been claimed to be of substantial benefit to children
and adolescents. Service-learning is a form of community service often embedded
in schools that usually has curricular and reflective components. Service-learning is
believed by its advocates to have substantial, broad, and uniformly positive effects
on the development of children and adolescents. For example, Billig (2000)
reported that in comparison to nonparticipants, adolescents enrolled in service-
learning activities gain social responsibility; develop higher self-esteem and greater
self-efficacy; report fewer behavioral problems; are less likely to become pregnant
or to cause pregnancies; display greater empathy; gain more political knowledge;
spend more time on task in school; and learn more mathematics, among many other
reported benefits.
However, the evidence for the effectiveness of service-learning is more equiv-
ocal than some of its advocates acknowledge. There are both methodological and
theoretical problems with much of the research on service-learning. Many of the
studies that offer findings supportive of the value of service-learning are flawed by
designs that cannot clearly address whether the service-learning experience is
a causal influence on development. Sometimes, this is a consequence of
a research design in which service-learning participants are tested prior to, and
following, their community service experiences. The problem with this design is
that change between the initial and second testing time might be attributable to any
number of factors (age, time of the school year) besides the service-learning
970 D. Hart et al.
experience. Other studies are flawed by comparing change observed in participants

in service-learning experiences to noncomparable children adolescents. For exam-
ple, students who volunteer to enroll in a class featuring service-learning are
probably different in many ways from those who choose another class (indeed, as
discussed earlier in the chapter, children high in resilience are more likely to
volunteer in adolescence than are children in resilience), and consequently change
over time may be a result of factors (like resilience) that influence decisions to
participate in service-learning rather than the service-learning experience itself.
Billig (2000) and others have noted these kinds of problems.
Some of the published work seems to assume as axiomatic that service-learning
is beneficial for children and adolescents and that the task of researchers is to count
the numerous benefits that arise. One problem with this kind of research is that it
often lacks a theory for how service-learning effects change. A theory of change can
help identify the social and psychological mechanisms that translate the experience
of service-learning into behavioral and psychological outcomes. For example, some
service-learning advocates have argued that discussion of a community service
experience focusing on the relation of the experience to both the intellectual goals
of the course and social responsibility is necessary in order for participants to derive
the benefits deriving from the linking of “the concrete to the abstract” (e.g., Hatcher
and Bringle 1997, p. 153). The advantage of specifying mechanisms (reflection, in
this instance) and outcomes (abstract thinking) is that interventions can be appro-
priately designed and desired outcomes identified. Moreover, theoretical mecha-
nisms allow for clarity in statistical testing, because outcomes that are expected
can be distinguished from those that are not. All too often, evaluations of
service-learning programs report results of statistical analyses indicating that dif-
ferences were obtained for some variables but not for others, with little rationale
offered for why this pattern should be expected.
In one of the best evaluations of service-learning programs, Melchior
(1998) studied model programs for middle and high schools in the United States.
A host of variables was assessed, including civic attitudes, volunteering apart from
that required by the service-learning course, pregnancy, academic achievement in
different courses, and delinquency. Melchior and colleagues found that students
who had enrolled in the service-learning courses were more likely to volunteer and
evidence positive civic attitudes, participate in their schools, and earn higher math
grades, but found no differences on measures of grades in other subjects (social
studies, science, and English), delinquency, communication skills, risky behavior,
or work orientation. In the absence of theory, it is difficult to assimilate this pattern
of findings: Why is there an increase in math grades but not in social studies? Why
does service-learning heighten civic attitudes but not reduce delinquency? These
questions cannot be satisfactorily answered in the absence of theoretical mecha-
nisms that connect service-learning experiences to outcomes.
Theory can also highlight the kinds of outcomes that ought to be expected from
service-learning and distinguish them from those outcomes that should not be
sensitive to the intervention. For example, theory can predict that service-learning
ought to increase volunteering but be unrelated to increases in height. Melchior’s
evaluation of service-learning described above, the theory about change, and the
facets of the individual that ought to be experienced by the service-learning
experience could allow an appropriate weighing of the evidence. It seems important
that facets of civic participation – volunteering, engagement in school, and civic
attitudes – are all affected by service-learning, while effects on qualities more
distant from civic engagement like delinquency, pregnancy, and English scores
are less regularly connected to the service-learning experience.
32.4.1 Causal Influence
Another lesson emerging from Melchior’s (1997) study is that adolescents who are
likely to participate in service-learning experiences are different from those who
are not. In one set of analyses, Melchior followed longitudinally adolescents who
were measured at the beginning of Year 1, at the end of Year 1, and then 12 months
later at the end of Year 2. Some adolescents in this sample participated in service-
learning experiences in Year 2, while others did not. Melchior found that adolescents
who would participate in service-learning in Year 2, in comparison to those who would
not, had better scores on the outcome variables at the beginning of Year 1 and showed
more positive change on many of these variables between the beginning of Year 1 and
the end of Year 1, prior to the service-learning experience in Year 2. This means that
adolescents who choose to enroll in service-learning courses are developing differently
from those who do not, even in advance of service-learning experiences.
As a consequence, it is often difficult to determine whether service-learning – indeed,
whether any civic participation experience – is a causal influence on development.
Random assignment to condition is one way to isolate causal influences. Rather
than allowing students to choose whether or not to enroll in service-learning
courses, they can be randomly assigned to either receive, or not to receive, ser-
vice-learning experiences. The benefit of random assignment is that it eliminates
preexisting differences among individuals as explanations for differences in out-
comes between those who receive service-learning experiences and those who do
not. Because of its great strengths in identifying causal influences, random assign-
ment is a highly desirable element in research designs.
However, random assignment has rarely been used in educational settings and
investigations of major curricular reforms (Slavin 2002). As a consequence, there
are few studies that feature random assignment to study the effects of civic
engagement on child and adolescent development. Allen and colleagues (Allen
et al. 1997) have reported results from one of the best of the random assignment
investigations. They studied the effects of adolescents’ participation in a program
called Teen Outreach. The program featured three elements over the course of
a school year: supervised community service experiences, discussion of those
experiences, and discussion of issues identified as central for adolescent develop-
ment. Students were randomly assigned to either the group participating in the
program or to the control group.
At the completion of the program, participants in Teen Outreach had lower
rates of school failure, pregnancy, and delinquency than did adolescents in the
972 D. Hart et al.
control group. Allen and colleagues suggested that the autonomy afforded Teen
Outreach participants in selecting the sites for their community service activities,
combined with the opportunities for meaningful relationships with the adults super-
vising these activities, may be the sources for the benefits arising from participation.
Yet even this study, an exemplar among those featuring random assignment for the
study of civic participation’s effects on children and adolescents, has limitations.
First of all, Allen reported that random assignment failed to eliminate differences
between participants and nonparticipants: On measures administered prior to partic-
ipation, those who would receive the service-learning experiences were advantaged
relative to those who would be in the control group. Moreover, Teen Outreach also
included discussion of developmental issues, and it is possible that it was this
program element, rather than the civic participation activities, that produced what-
ever changes occurred. Allen’s (Allen et al. 1997) research illustrates how difficult it
is to discern the causal influence of civic participation on the development of
adolescents even in research featuring random assignment.
32.4.2 Do No Harm
Well-meaning adults develop interventions to promote the development of children

and adolescents, not to damage or retard them. Yet harm can result; for example,
Dishion et al. (1999) reported that two well-designed, expensive programs intended
to reduce problem behavior in adolescents actually increased it. Can civic partic-
ipation similarly have harmful effects on children and adolescents?
Kahne and Westheimer (2006) studied ten programs in the United States
intended to impart democratic values to high school students through civic partic-
ipation and education. One goal of these programs was to increase political efficacy,
the sense of being effective civic participants, in teenaged students. Kahne and
Westheimer (2006) review research indicating that political efficacy facilitates
political participation in adults, demonstrating that political efficacy is an important
outcome. Many of the programs they studied succeeded; one program not only
failed to promote political efficacy but actually diminished it in its participants.
How can civic participation retard, rather than accelerate, the kinds of attitudes
that seem to sustain civic engagement? Kahne and Westheimer (2006) found that
the program that diminished political efficacy, named Youth Action, demanded that
its participants engage with a political system unprepared to reciprocate and
allowed participants to formulate unrealistic goals for their volunteer actions. For
example, one group of teenagers in Youth Action aimed to convince the city
supervisors to allocate funding for building a new women’s health center and to
pay for the staff needed to operate it. What makes this goal problematic is that
success probably demands political skills, political influence, and a time commit-
ment that exceed what teenagers could offer. The consequence was that teenagers
were encouraged to pursue a goal that they were unable to achieve, and as a result
this activity decreased the participants’ senses of themselves as effective citizens
and decreased their interest in future civic engagement.
Kahne and Westheimer (2006) argue that learning that political structures are
not easy to change – the lesson afforded to Youth Action participants who failed
to achieve their action goals – can serve citizens well. Perhaps in this sense,
Youth Action was not completely harmful; still, diminishing students’ interest in
civic participation and belief in themselves as effective civic actors probably are
undesirable outcomes.
Similarly mixed findings are reported by Simon and Wang (2002) who
studied young adult participants in the AmeriCorps program. Participants in
this program volunteered for a year in this national service program and worked
on “solving problems specific to particular neighborhoods, towns, cities, and
regions” (Simon and Wang 2002, p. 523). Surprisingly, participants in this year-
long community service experience did not change in uniformly positive direc-
tions. For example, following their AmeriCorps experiences, participants were
less likely to attend public meetings than prior to involvement with AmeriCorps,
and trust in public institutions did not appear to increase. While there were a few
positive outcomes associated with participation, including and increased likeli-
hood of joining community groups, taken as a whole the findings do not indicate
that this kind of service experience promotes well-being.
Our point is that it is possible for civic participation to have potentially negative
effects on children and adolescents; educators ought not assume that civic partic-
ipation can be prescribed as a universal prescription to whatever ills are perceived
in children, adolescents, and youth.
Our goal in this section of the chapter was to highlight the limitations on our
knowledge of the consequences of civic participation for the well-being of children
and adolescents. There are many articles reporting research on the issue, but, as we
have suggested, this research suffers from one or more of four types of limitations.
These include a lack of theoretical mechanisms that can account for the effects of civic
participation experiences on development; indiscriminate statistical testing that makes
difficult the identification of qualities that are, and are not, affected by civic partici-
pation; a lack of research utilizing random assignment; and, finally, inattentiveness to
the possibly negative consequences of civic participation experiences for children
and youth. The end result is that despite thousands of articles and books on the topic,
claims about benefits and costs of civic participation must be somewhat tentative.
32.5 Conclusions
Both theory and research are consistent with the premise that civic participation in
childhood and adolescence promotes the well-being of individuals and societies.
Aristotle’s claims seem borne out by the network of associations of adolescent civic
participation with desirable outcomes such as self-esteem, academic achievement,
political efficacy, and educational aspirations to name just a few. There are also
indications that civic participation of children and adolescents contribute to the
societies they live in. There are good reasons to promote civic engagement and
child and adolescents.
974 D. Hart et al.
A fair amount is now known about how to introduce children and adolescents
into civic engagement. Families play a role; by connecting children and adolescents
to social institutions, parents place their children in contexts which scaffold entry
into civic participation. Moreover, by participating themselves, parents model civic
participation, and the evidence suggests that children and adolescents emulate their
parents in this respect.
There is also good evidence to indicate that schools are important. Classrooms
characterized by open discussion of political issues and strategies to address
community problems increase the likelihood that adolescents will become civically
and politically engaged. The provision of opportunities to participate in the com-
munity, through required community service, also seems to be an effective strategy
for schools to employ.
While there are good reasons to recommend civic participation for children and
adolescents, there is an urgent need for better theory and better research to guide social
policy. There is very little known about the psychological mechanisms that connect
the experience of civic participation to the kinds of developmental outcomes discussed
throughout the chapter. The consequence is that we know far less than we should
about how to make civic participation as meaningful to and as beneficial for children
and adolescents as possible. As we noted earlier in the chapter, there is some evidence
to indicate that civic participation experiences can be useless and perhaps harmful to
children and adolescents. It is our hope that through improved research and theory, the
potential of civic participation for improving the well-being of children and adoles-
cents can be fully realized.
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State of the Field: Youth Community
Service in the USA 33
Edward Metz
33.1 Introduction
In the last two decades in the United States, the field of youth community service has
burgeoned. In K-12 schools and on college campuses, community service programs
are now commonplace and many classrooms use service-learning as an academic
intervention. On the national level, federal programs and nonprofit organizations lead
large-scale initiatives to engage youth in volunteerism. And in recent years, full-time
service programs for recent high school and college graduates are seeing record
numbers of applications and enrollments. Given this infrastructure and the willing-
ness of young people to get involved if asked to do so, it is not surprising that today’s
youth are serving at historically high rates (Volunteering in America 2012).
What are youth (This chapter primarily focuses on youth from middle school age
(12) to recent college graduates. While younger children do perform community
service through their schools and with their families, less research is available in
this area.) servers doing? As part of Global Youth Service Day, elementary school
children are making sandwiches for the homeless. As part of a service-learning
project in a middle school science class, students are collecting water from streams
and analyzing pollutant levels. With their church youth group, teenagers are
traveling to impoverished communities to build houses. Through a public policy
class, college students are organizing advocacy campaigns for worker rights. And,
college graduates are enlisting in full-time stipended service programs such as
AmeriCorps, Jesuit Volunteer Corps, and City Year. All told, these are just a few
of the many types of community service in which young people are engaged today.
Despite the promise, youth community service has yet to reach its potential.
Researchers and practitioners have highlighted a gap between what are known to be
the key elements of effective service – and how programs are actually carried out
E. Metz
US Department of Education, Institute of Education Sciences, Washington, DC, USA

978 E. Metz
(Melchior 1999; Clemmit 2012). In this regard, there is great variability in how
schools implement key parts of service programs, from hiring service coordinators
to providing meaningful service opportunities with concrete reflection and to
instilling a culture where service is valued and thrives. This gap is especially
noticeable in schools with little or no budget to support community service or
where there is less buy-in from key stakeholders. On a national policy level, the
field has not gained traction in mainstream education circles (Levine 2008), par-
tially because findings from rigorous research studies of national service programs
have yielded inconsistent or null results (Melchior 1999; Spring et al. 2008). As
well, the recent economic and political environment has resulted in significant
funding reductions to national service programs and has left future funding for
service programs unclear.
This chapter in the Handbook of Child Well-Being describes the current land-
scape of youth community service in the United States. The chapter presents
a general overview of the field by defining the core elements that constitute the
concept community service and by detailing trends in the field. The chapter then
provides examples of several forms of institutionalized youth community service,
including national service programs, service organized by nonprofit organizations,
full-time service programs, and school-based service programs.
33.2 Defining Youth Community Service
Community service is a prosocial activity that is performed for the direct or indirect
benefit of a recipient without expectation of a material reward. There are many
variations in the forms of community service through which young people engage.
For example, community service can be performed as informal volunteerism (e.g.,
helping a neighbor who is sick on weekly basis) or formal or organized volunteerism
(e.g., church youth group or after-school school club), it can embedded as part of
a program (e.g., service-learning or year-long service programs), or it can be
required as part of mandate (e.g., school requirement). In recent years, opportunities
for community service have become increasingly institutionalized by schools,
nonprofit organizations, and by government-funded programs (Perry and Thompson
2003; Musick and Wilson 2008). While the above forms of service have unique
features and different modes of implementation, all share common elements. These
include an action by the server, a recipient of the service, an organized and formal
time commitment, and (in most cases) an auspice under which the service occurs:
• The action component of community service describes the specific nature of the
activity. Common actions through community service include assisting or help-
ing, visiting or entertaining, teaching or coaching, advocating, planting, main-
tenance, collecting or donating, administrative tasks, researching, or presenting
findings, among others.
• The recipient of the service may include persons or causes in need of assistance.
Common recipients of service include the elderly, homeless, children with
developmental disabilities, younger children or peers, or the environment, to
33 State of the Field: Youth Community Service in the USA 979
name a few. A recipient can also be a cause, such as homelessness or public

health. Community service activities can place youth in direct contact with
a recipient, such as a homeless person, or provide indirect assistance, such as
through a walkathon or doing administrative work in an office.
• Community service entails an organized and formal time commitment, more than
episodic helping or an incidental altruistic or prosocial act. Thus, helping an
elderly person or a child across a street is a kind act – but would not be considered
service unless done formally (e.g., volunteering as a crossing guard). While
a community service activity can be a one-time event, many forms or service
are performed weekly, monthly, or on a regular or full-time basis.
• While community service can be done by individuals without a sponsoring
organization, it is most often performed under the auspice or in conjunction
with an established entity, be it a school, religious organization, or a civic
organization.
Given the many possible actions and recipients, there are literally hundreds of
different types of community service. Each community service type is further
shaped by additional features, such as whether youth are offered training and
support; feel the service is meaningful, challenging, or interesting; feel they can
make a difference; have direct interaction with a recipient; perform service in
collaboration with peers or do it alone; prepare for the experience before and reflect
afterward; and are recognized for their accomplishments, among many others. Each
of these features is likely critical in determining the impact and the level of
satisfaction and fulfillment derived from the experience. Yet, research in the extent
literature often has not included such key features in studies examining the effects
of service.
33.3 Benefits from Youth Community Service
There is widespread agreement that the benefits from youth community service can
be substantial to recipients, organizations, society, and youth servers themselves.
Recipients, such as the elderly, benefit from the energy, enthusiasm, and pres-
ence of youth servers. Nonprofit and service provider organizations benefit when
youth complete tasks and projects that may not have been started or finished
otherwise, such as entertaining residents at a nursing home or providing manpower
to carry out a food drive. Society benefits when youth lead public health campaigns
to raise awareness for drunk driving or smoking cigarettes. Community service can
also foster democratic values when youth help citizens register for elections or
work to address social injustice and foster peace. For example, programs such as
City Year, which place servers in urban areas to turnaround the lowest performing
schools, promote greater tolerance, trust, and understanding, by bringing talented
youth together from distinct socioeconomic and ethnic backgrounds. There is
evidence in the literature to conclude that recipients and community organizations
are relatively satisfied with the work youth servers provide (see Perry and
Thompson 2003). However, the measurable impact of youth community service
980 E. Metz
projects on recipients, organizations, and society continues to be a largely an under-

researched area (Stoecker and Tyron 2009).
Most of the research in the extent literature focuses on how community service
and volunteerism can positively impact youth participants. Youniss and Yates
(1996) applied Erikson’s theory to a developmental framework for why service
can influence prosocial identity development in youth. Erikson (1968) theorized
that the period of adolescence is critical for constructing an identity so that
individuals feel they have a place in society. Erikson posed that this process is
a social one whereby youth seek to belong and contribute to a tradition, whether
positive or negative in nature. Applied to the current topic, community service
exposes youth to positive traditions new and different from themselves, with
organizations that espouse the values of a particular cause. Equipped with this
new rationale and a plan for action, youth address problems and begin to develop
a sense of themselves as active agents working for that cause in the betterment of
society. By engaging in service, youth come to see how they fit into the world in
a constructive, rewarding way. Youniss and Yates (1996) theorized that through
this process, a social or civic identity is formed, clarified, and strengthened in ways
that last through life. Once this process takes root, they are no longer the individuals
they were before service, because they have altered their identities.
Theorists including Larson (2000), Lerner (2004), and Levine (2008) also view
organized prosocial activities – such as community service – as a mechanism to
promote assets and foster what has been termed positive youth development. Rather
than focusing on risk factors, positive youth development is a framework which
emphasizes the importance of focusing on youths’ strengths to ensure that all youth
grow up to become contributing adults. This theory holds that all young people have
assets to contribute to society, such as energy, perseverance, ideas, creativity, and
knowledge. When provided organized activities to collaborate, discuss, serve,
create, belong, and address significant issues, youth can thrive. This theory flips
the prevailing view, which focuses youth being at risk for dropping out, abusing
drugs, being disengaged, and thus needing surveillance, prevention, remediation,
and discipline. In this regard, rather than providing programs that deliver services to
respond to young people’s deficits, organized community service programs can
empower young people to address critical issues in their communities and allow
them to develop transferable skills and competencies in the process.
Research shows that performing community service and volunteering does relate
to positive outcomes for youth participants. Young people who serve are less likely
to use drugs or engage in risky behaviors and are more likely to have positive
academic, psychological, and occupational well-being (Fiske 2001; Oesterie et al.
2004). Youth who serve are more likely to have a strong work ethic when they reach
adulthood and are more likely to volunteer and vote (Zaff and Michelsen 2002).
Service during youth is also related to greater respect of others, leadership skills,
and an understanding of citizenship that can carry forward to adulthood (Morrissey
and Werner-Wilson 2005).
Of course, the benefits to youth from performing service depend on the particular
experience, including factors such as the type of service, whether the service is
meaningful and challenging opportunities, or whether the program provides support

(Newmann and Rutter 1984; Stoecker and Tyron 2009). In this sense, not all service
experiences are worthwhile for youth servers. Picking up trash or filing papers to
fulfill a school requirement would seem less likely to benefit a young person than
types that have face-to-face interaction with a recipient, like tutoring a child or
serving at a soup kitchen. Or, when youth volunteers are placed in challenging
roles, such as building houses or answering phone lines at a crisis clinic, they likely
need ample training and frequent supervision to ensure that services are rendered
properly. Further, if a young person is bored by their role or task or an organization
does not value the service, it would be unlikely to be a beneficial experience for the
young person or the recipient. To this point (and perhaps the key point of this
chapter), a wide body of research now demonstrates that the benefits of youth
community service experiences typically depend on the quality of the program,
as well-designed and implemented programs lead to more positive outcomes
(Melchior 1999; Youniss and Yates 1996; Metz and Youniss 2005; Pickeral 2008).
33.4 Trends in the Field
The precise rate of youth involvement in community service or volunteerism is not

clear, as figures vary from study to study depending on factors such as how service
is defined (e.g., formal or informal volunteerism, school-based service-learning,
involvement through requirements), the frequency of the service (e.g., one-time vs.
regular participation), and that sample being assessed (e.g., children, teenagers, or
college students). A recent national study indicates that 35 % of 12th graders, 31 %
of 10th graders, and 27 % of 8th graders volunteered one time or more in the last
month prior to being surveyed (Child Trends 2011). When participation is defined
more broadly to include other forms of community service, such as school-based
required service or service-learning, or focuses on a specific sample of young
people, research shows that as many as 60 % or more of young people report
having served (Musick and Wilson 2008). When looking at specific schools with
a culture of community service and strong programs, rates of volunteerism can be
even higher.
Research also speaks to different rates of participation by age, as findings
consistently show that grade school students serve less than middle and high school
students (Child Trends 2011). This reflects a trend whereby service participation
earlier in life builds upon and leads to sustained involvement as young people get
older. High school students and grade school students are also engaged in different
types of service. Older servers are more likely to participate in types of service that
provide direct exposure to people in need, whereas younger children are more likely
to perform types of service such as contributing to a cause (Metz and Youniss
2004). In recent years, more and more grade school classrooms are engaging
younger students in activities that can be construed as service. For example,
many grade schools ask students to contribute to food drives by bringing in canned
goods as part of Global Citizenship Day or involve students in events such as walks
982 E. Metz
for the homeless. Future research is needed more closely to examine this trend and
to assess whether and how these experiences frame young children’s understanding
of social issues and their future involvement in service.
Individual differences and demographic factors are highlighted in the literature
as predictors in whether young people decide to perform voluntary community
service. Research demonstrates that prosocial personality dispositions of other-
oriented empathy and helpfulness (Penner et al. 1995) and altruism (Batson et al.
1978) positively relate to volunteer participation. Other researchers have studied
personal motivation and educational and career goals as determining factors
whether a young person volunteers (Omoto and Snyder 1995). For example,
along with strong academic performance and participation in extracurricular activ-
ities such as sports and clubs, community service participation is often an indis-
pensable component in many high school student’s applications for college and
college student’s applications for law and graduate school.
Studies also consistently show that female youth volunteer more than their male
counterparts, although gender differences even out in the early 1920s. Students with
higher GPAs are also more likely to perform voluntary community service. Extra-
curricular involvement, such as belonging to school clubs and government, and
attending religious services have all been shown to relate to greater youth involve-
ment in service (Nolin et al. 1997; Jennings 2002; Metz et al. 2003). Along with
ready-made opportunities for service at schools, youth learn about volunteer oppor-
tunities through their social network and family. Studies show that if a parent or
a friend volunteers, a young person him or herself is also more likely to volunteer.
Further, McLellan and Youniss (2003) reported that parents who were involved in
social service (e.g., direct interaction with a person in need) were more likely to
have children who did the same type of service as opposed to different forms of
service, such as tutoring or helping in administrative functions.
Indicators of socioeconomic status also have been shown to relate to youth
voluntary participation (Jennings 2002). Youth whose parents have a high level
of education are more likely to volunteer than parents with only a high school
degree or less (Nolin et al. 1997). Youth from higher socioeconomic backgrounds
have been found to serve more than those from lower socioeconomic backgrounds
(Volunteering in America 2012). This is likely due to more opportunities being
available in higher-income neighborhoods and because youth from lower-income
neighborhoods have less time to serve due to work responsibilities. Rates of service
are significantly greater for college students than youth who do not attend (Child
Trends 2011). One study showed that 75 % of college freshmen had served in their
final year of high school (Sax et al. 1999). Conversely, rates of involvement in
service are dramatically lower in schools in lower socioeconomic areas (Kahne and
Middaugh 2008). These data all highlight a “service divide” where the family
background and the community in which a young person lives relate to the
prevalence of opportunities students are presented to serve.
Beyond personal characteristics and socioeconomic factors, a consistent body of
research shows an additional external factor motivates young people to partake in
community service and volunteerism. That is, an invitation to serve, or being asked,
overrides internal dispositions or background factors in statistical models and can

act as an equalizer in whether individuals actually volunteer (Verba et al. 1995).
The Independent Sector (2002) reported that 93 % of young people volunteered
after an invitation to do so, compared to only 24 % who volunteered without such an
impetus. More recent research echoes this finding, as being invited to serve was the
top reason motivating young people for volunteering (Kirby et al. 2011). Once
a young person gets involved, there are factors that predict whether they will stay
involved. Young people who discuss their volunteer experiences are twice as likely
to continue compared to volunteers who do not discuss their experience (Lopez
et al. 2006). The type of service experience also relates to whether a young person
continues serving. Metz et al. (2003) reported that high school students who
performed voluntary service that placed them in direct contact with a recipient
had greater and increased intentions to volunteer in the future compared to students
who did functional or administrative types of service that did not provide direct
contact with a recipient (e.g., filing papers or office work). Other researchers have
shown that more challenging, meaningful, and personally rewarding experiences
increased students’ likelihood to continue serving in the future (McLellan and
Youniss 2003). Lastly, in their study of a public high school, Metz et al. (2003)
reported that more than a quarter of students performed four or more different types
of service during their junior or senior year. Hence, for these students, service led to
more and different types of experiences.
33.5 Institutions and Youth Community Service
Since the 1970s when records were first tracked, the rate of youth volunteerism has
increased from 10 % to 33 % in 2005 (It should be noted that the slight decline in
community service participation from 2005 to present likely is the result of reduc-
tions to federal- and state-level policies that support systematic integration of
service into education) (Kirby et al. 2011). This increase over three decades is in
large part due to the institutionalization of community service, through national
service policies which fund programs around the country; through nonprofit orga-
nizations that provide service opportunities, in colleges and universities; through
full-time service programs; and through school-based service programs (Musick
and Wilson 2008; Perry and Thompson 2003). The remainder of this chapter
provides an overview of these forms of institutionalized service.
33.6 National Service
On a national level, the institutionalization of youth community service began in

1933 during President F.D. Roosevelt’s New Deal, with the creation the Civilian
Conservation Corps. This public works relief program enlisted more than three
million 18- to 24-year-old men to work on environmental projects in an effort to
curb the great depression. The program was groundbreaking as it was the first to use
984 E. Metz
federal tax dollars to pay for individuals to perform service, as funds paid for
program elements such as transportation to sites, housing, meals, and a small
stipend to be sent back to servers’ families. While the program ended before
World War II, it was generally viewed as a success as it provided opportunities
for meaningful activities where there were previously none. In 1961, President
Kennedy instituted the Peace Corps as a democratic nation building strategy
whereby men and eventually women serve in developing countries. Since then,
more than 200,000 young men and women have served in 132 countries. The
current budget for the program stands at around $375 million per year. Leveraging
the success of the Peace Corps, President Johnson established the Volunteers in
Service to America, otherwise known as VISTA, to improve the self-reliance of
local institutions to address issues of poverty by utilizing youth volunteers. Since its
inception, 140,000 young Americans have participated in VISTA, which remains to
this day. Support for national service waned in the early 1970s during the Nixon
administration and because of cynicism of US involvement in Vietnam. National
service was further decentralized and dissolved through the 1980s by the Reagan’s
administration in order to shrink the size and breadth of the federal government
(Perry and Thompson 2003).
In 1990, President G.H. Bush revived national focus on volunteerism by signing
the National and Community Service Act to engage more people in service to
address serious problems. In 1993, President Clinton established the Corporation
for National and Community Service (CNCS), the federal agency that houses all
domestic service programs. Currently, the CNCS is charged with activities such as
designing and implementing a variety of programs and initiatives across the
country, supporting staff to manage the agency and liaisons at education agencies
to coordinate programs at the local level, and providing stipends and covering
expenses for service participants. Critics of national service have argued that it is
a “perversion of volunteerism” and an extension of big government into realms
previously handled by private nonprofits. Supporters agree with President Clinton’s
vision that community building occurs best when people and their government
work at the grass roots in genuine partnership (Perry and Thompson 2003). One
program in this agency, AmeriCorps, requires volunteers to commit 20–40 h a week,
typically in local education, social service, and environmental conversation programs.
Some members receive modest living stipends, and most are eligible for grants to help
pay for college or student loans. AmeriCorps is based on the premise that service to
one’s country not only improves society – but also the persons involved. To date, more
than 540,000 young people have served through AmeriCorps.
In 2009, President Obama signed into law the Kennedy Serve America Act,
which provided a sweeping expansion of national service to engage millions of
Americans in addressing local needs through volunteer service. However, in the
2000s, efforts to include service-learning in national education reform initiatives
were unsuccessful as service did not align to the No Child Left Behind Legislation
and the era of high stakes testing (Levine 2008). By 2011, because of the economic
recession and a deeply polarized political landscape, funding for the Learn and Serve
America program (the federal program that supports service-learning in schools)
was eliminated in the amount of $40 M, and funding for AmeriCorps was signifi-
cantly reduced. To date, while the crux of the CNCS’s annual budget remains, the
climate for future funding for national service is far from assured.
Research has provided rich descriptive accounts of the positive outcomes for
youth volunteers and communities where they serve through national service
(Melchior and Bailis 2002; CNCS 2008). A retrospective study demonstrated
a long-term impact on members’ rates of volunteerism and civic engagement
years after they serve (CNCS 2008). Research also shows that AmeriCorps partic-
ipation related to future careers in public service and aspects of civic leadership
(CNCS 2007). Other studies have provided evidence that there is variation in
outcomes depending on particular program. Melchior (1999) used a 3-year longi-
tudinal design to evaluate the Learn and Serve America programs, which were
initiated to support school- and community-based efforts to involve school-aged
youth in community service. Findings showed that well-designed and implemented
school-based service-learning programs had a positive impact on young people’s
civic and educational attitudes and school performance while also meeting impor-
tant community needs. Yet, outcomes depended on the quality of the program
through which students served, as poorly designed programs did not produce the
same outcomes as well-designed programs.
On the whole, there is a paucity of evaluations of national service programs,
mostly due to the enormous expense and complicated nature of conducting research
on the impact of community service programs on participants and recipients. Of the
national evaluations that have been conducted, few have been conducted with long-
term longitudinal and experimental designs, and few have adequately controlled for
self-selection effects and individual differences among participants. Further,
research has not adequately demonstrated that participation in national service
improves core academic outcomes. Hence, skeptics have continued to question
the worth of federally funded programs (see Clemmit 2012). As summarized by
Frumkin and Jastrzab (2011), despite the cost to tax payers, including a $1B annual
CNCS budget, it is still unclear who benefits from national service, under what
conditions these programs work best, and how exactly they contribute to the
strengthening of communities.
33.7 Nonprofit and Religious Organizations Support

of Community Service
The institutionalization of community service and volunteerism was born in non-

profit community and religious organizations around the start of the twentieth
century (Musick and Wilson 2008). During this time, influential thinkers such as
William James and Arthur Dunn extolled youth volunteer service as a means to
instill social responsibility and promote cohesion among diverse persons within the
democratic society. These progressive educators based their philosophy and prac-
tice in the belief that learning and human development are processes of living, not
simply preparation for a future life.
986 E. Metz
Examples of established organizations that have provided opportunities for

youth to participate in service include the Boys & Girls Clubs, YMCA, YWCA,
twenty-first Century Community Learning Centers, 4-H, Camp Fire, Boys/Girls
Scouts, and faith-based organizations, among others. Such organizations have
provided structured out-of-school and summer activities (including service) for
young people to learn and develop competencies and job skills that are normally
not practiced in schools (Mahoney et al. 2005). These activities have been and are
still especially important for youth in low-income areas, whose families and schools
often provide fewer opportunities for entry into service (Pedersen and Seidman
2005). Because young people are more likely to take up a volunteer role if they have
been socialized into playing the role, these organizations act as bridges to youth
involvement in society (Musick and Wilson 2008).
A large body of research demonstrates that volunteerism through community
and religious organizations during youth plants a seed and acts as an entry point for
further volunteerism and civic engagement in adulthood. Youniss et al. (1997), in
their review of a series of long-term studies, found strong support for this theory and
concluded that youth who took part in service as members of civic and political
organizations were more likely than nonparticipants to be engaged in community
organizations and voting 15 years later. Similarly, reviews by Verba et al. (1995),
Raskoff and Sundeen (1999), Niemi and Junn (1998), and Flanagan et al. (2001) all
show that service involvement with community and religious organizations during
youth leads to enduring patterns of engagement reflective of citizenship. In this
regard, at a time when young people are seeking to understand themselves in
relation to others, involvement in service provides one mechanism through which
youth can develop a sense of civic identity by connecting society, enhancing their
awareness of political and social issues, and stimulating a sense of social respon-
sibility and agency (Youniss et al. 1997).
In the last 20 years, a new crop of national organizations has emerged to provide
opportunities for youth to perform community service and to build additional
capacity for the field of youth service. Youth Service America (YSA) is
a privately funded nonprofit organization that leads nationwide efforts through
large-scale events that engage millions of young people in service such as National
Volunteer Week, Clean-Up America Day, Semester of Service, and Global Youth
Service Day. YSA also provides grants for students, programs, and community
partners; offers resources and trainings; and sponsors a weekly newsletter that
reaches 40,000 subscribers.
The National Youth Leadership Council (NYLC) is a nationwide nonprofit
organization whose mission is to promote school-based service-learning. NYLC
is the host of the annual National Service-Learning Conference, the largest such
event in the country each year, and provides tools and technical assistance in
support of best practices in the field.
The Afterschool Alliance is a consortium of public, private, and nonprofit groups
committed to raising awareness and expanding resources for after-school programs.
A research study by this group found that more than a quarter of US children are
alone or unsupervised after school and that during this time, such children are
significantly more likely to partake in juvenile crime and experiment with risky
behaviors such as smoking, drinking, drugs, and unprotected sex (Afterschool
Alliance 2012). To address this void, the Afterschool Alliance supports more than
25,000 after-school program partners, and their publications reach more than
65,000 individuals every month. The Afterschool Alliance supports community
service as one positive activity to address this gap between school and time at home.
Another organization that promotes youth civic engagement through service is
Innovations in Civic Participation (ICP). ICP designed and implemented the Sum-
mer of Service (SOS) program to provide meaningful activities for middle school-
aged young people from lower socioeconomic backgrounds. SOS attempts to fill
a void where there are fewer opportunities for organized activities and to prevent
summer learning loss. The 2010 pilot program engaged 600 young people in 125 or
more hours of environmental conservation projects. Results from research demon-
strated the promise of this approach in supporting youth in areas of civic engage-
ment and academic enrichment while making a difference in local communities
(Tysvaer 2012).
An additional trend in the last decade is the increasing use of technology and
Web-based resources to support youth community service. For example, NYLC
now hosts a multimedia website with a multitude of free tools and resources for
practitioners (see http://lift.nylc.org), and an organization called GoToService-
Learning.org hosts a website to provide stakeholders key resources (see http://
www.gotoservicelearning.org/additional-resources). In the nonprofit voluntary
and philanthropic sector, Web-based platforms have emerged as a critical compo-
nent in addressing causes and needs. For example, national nonprofit organizations
such as GreatNonprofits (http://greatnonprofits.org/), Charity Navigator (www.
charitynavigator.org), DonorsChoose (www.Donorschoose.org), and Catchafire
(http://www.catchafire.org/) each use sophisticated multimedia and social network-
ing platforms to generate interest and raise engagement in the specific projects
being sponsored. Research is needed to determine in what ways and how well these
forms of technology mobilize youth volunteers.
33.8 Higher Education
In higher education, almost 90 % of colleges and universities offer structured

opportunities for service (Clemmit 2012). Similar to K-12, many colleges and
universities support service through placement offices and centers devoted to public
service and volunteerism. (For information on community service programs in
higher education, see http://evergreen.loyola.edu/rcrews/www/sl/academic.html)
Many professors in institutions of higher education institutions are incorporating
service-learning (also referred to as community-based or project-based learning)
into their classrooms as an education intervention. Other mechanisms have
emerged in support of service-learning in higher education. For example, Campus
Compact acts as the national coalition of 1,200 college and university presidents
representing some six million students. Initiated in 1985, Campus Compact
988 E. Metz
promotes community service that develops students’ citizenship skills, helps cam-
puses forge effective community partnerships, and provides resources and training
for faculty seeking to integrate civic and community-based learning into the
curriculum. Despite the fact that community service is thriving in institutions of
higher education, there is disturbing divide for young people who do not attend
college, as research shows these individuals are the least likely to become engaged
in service (Child Trends 2011).
33.9 Full-Time Service Programs
Full-time service programs are another example of the institutionalization of youth

community service. These programs are often 1 or 2 years in duration and place
recent high school or college graduates in full-time community service positions.
A key element of these programs is that youth are often placed in lower-income and
impoverished communities, where need is the greatest and where nonprofits and
schools benefit most from youths’ energy, perseverance, and skills. These programs
often provide servers housing, meals, and health insurance, and a small stipend for
additional living experiences. These programs also sometimes allow the deferment
of college loans. Full-time service programs are often of interest to recent college
graduates for several reasons, including an opportunity to serve for meaningful
causes, the opportunity to make a difference in working to remedy societal plights,
and the opportunity to gain marketable workplace skills or explore different career
options.
An example of a full-time service program is the Jesuit Volunteer Corps (JVC).
JVC is a spiritually based organization the enlists youth volunteers who dedicate 1
year or more to service working with people in poverty, including the homeless,
abused women and children, immigrants and refugees, the mentally ill, and AIDs/
HIV patients, and in recent years, for environmental education and preservation.
Through retreats, local formation teams, and community living, volunteers are
immersed in the “four values” of JVC, including spirituality, community, simple
living, and social justice. While JVC incorporates Catholic teaching and spirituality
into their programs, it is open to volunteers of all faiths. Since 1955, more than
15,000 recent college graduates served through JVC.
33.10 School-Based Community Service Programs
Trend data in the past few decades have highlighted decreasing levels of civic
engagement and political knowledge among recent cohorts of youth (NAEP 2010;
Putnam 2000). To counteract this trend, policy makers and educators have initi-
ated school-based programs with the belief that service can socialize students as
active and participatory citizens (Boyte 1991; The Civic Mission of Schools
2003). Furthermore, many educators believe that service – especially when done
as service-learning – can be an effective pedagogy for students in learning
academic content and gaining important life and career skills (Fiske 2001). For
these reasons, data show that 80 % of schools now offer opportunities for
volunteer community service, often by arranging service projects through clubs,
after-school programs, and service trips (Spring et al. 2008). Schools also have
initiated more formal programs in recent years that require students to perform
community service as a prerequisite for graduation and as an education interven-
tion through service-learning. To arrange service opportunities and support
students’ experiences, many schools have hired part- or full-time coordinators
to manage these programs.
33.10.1 School-based Community Service Requirements
More than 40 % of middle and high schools in the USA require some or all students
to serve, including schools in Maryland; Washington, DC; Detroit; and Chicago
(Spring et al. 2008). The rationale for requirements is clear – because schools are
the one common institution to reach all young people, mandates ensure that even
the most disengaged students become involved in their community. Requirement
programs vary depending on how service is presented and opportunities that are
arranged. Some are framed to enhance citizenship, whereas others are more general
to impart helping-like virtues or to increase students’ own self-esteem (Walker
2002). While the benefits of service-learning may be more potent because service is
integrated within academic content and reflection is intentional, many schools opt
for “stand-alone service-only” programs. Such programs are easier to implement
and require few or no resources. Such variability sheds lights on the inconsistent
findings across outcome studies examining required service programs (Melchior
1999; Planty and Regnier 2003).
Despite the reasons for community service requirements, skeptics question the
logic of “mandating volunteerism,” which they state should emanate from free
choice rather than coercion (Finn and Vanourek 1995; Sobus 1995). Others ques-
tion requiring service without structured reflection or a connection to a curriculum.
Still others have voiced practical rationales for their opposition, stating that
required service hours can detract from more central aspects in students’ lives,
notably academics or employment (Martin 1996). Lastly, there are questions about
whether schools can provide enough satisfying and meaningful opportunities for all
students to serve in the community (Gallant et al. 2010). This is especially true in
larger schools with hundreds or thousands of students, where providing placements
and organizations through which to partner may be challenging.
A small but growing body of research has examined the requirement question
empirically. Lopez (2002) found that while 66 % high school students support civics
course requirements, yet only 43 % favored requiring service. Niemi and Junn
(1998) and Keeter et al. (2002) using a national data set found that having
a requirement did not predict students’ scores on an array of civic indices, whereas
schools providing volunteer placements were a predictor on the same measures.
Covitt (2002) reported that students under the Maryland state requirement were
990 E. Metz
less likely to benefit if they had negative attitudes toward the requirement and if their
program failed to foster autonomy, such as allowing students to choose when and
where to serve. As well, Helms (2006), using a large data set, reported that Maryland
students under the state-wide service requirement were no more likely to volunteer
following high school than a comparison group without the requirement.
A different set of studies reports that service requirements can promote students’
prosocial development and civic engagement. Metz and Youniss (2005), using
a longitudinal quasi-experimental design, reported that students who performed
required service who would not have otherwise volunteered had increased political
awareness and increased intentions to vote and volunteer after graduating high
school compared to a control group. Both Planty, Bozick, and Regnier (2006) and
Hartet al. (2007) analyzed national data sets and reported that students with
mandated service in high school volunteered at rates above the national average
after both 2- and 8-year periods. As well, Hart et al. (2007) reported that doing
a mix of required and voluntary service was positively related to measures of voting
and civic volunteering.
In summary, for administrators interested in service as a mechanism to enrich
citizenship or pedagogical learning, results from the research literature indicate that
it likely may not be enough to tack on a specified number of required service hours.
Rather, programs should be devised and implemented to provide meaningful
opportunities that address real issues within the community, for regular rather
than just one-time service involvement, for supportive environments while serving,
and for meaningful reflection afterward (Keeter et al. 2003). These elements point
to a conclusion that it is the structure and quality of the program that determines the
outcomes of the policy – rather than the whether or not service is required. Unless
programs promote thoughtful analysis of students’ experiences and issues involved
in the service, the programs effect would likely be nil.
33.10.2 School-based Service-Learning Programs
As of 2008, 35 % of middle and high schools in the USA offered service-learning as

an education intervention (Some proponents do not view service-learning as a form
of service but rather strictly as a pedagogical strategy) (CNCS 2008). This is
because many policy makers and educators believe that well-designed and
implemented service-learning projects provide opportunities for students to learn
standards-relevant content, to become civically engaged, and to address community
needs (Kahne et al. 2012; Civic Mission of Schools 2003). Examples of service-
learning projects include a grade school science class researching native plants and
designing public service announcements for helping the community to understand
the need for preservation or a middle school civics class researching local voting
procedures in class and then facilitating a voter registration campaign in their
community.
In the past two decades, the science related to developing effective service-
learning programs has improved significantly, as there is now a substantial research
base that identifies the key elements that are essential for effective practice (NYLC
2008). For instance, research shows that service-learning may be most potent when
students – guided by a teacher-facilitator – examine an issue that aligns to curricular
content; design a project and perform sustained service that provides exposure to
new and different points of view; reflect through writing, discussing, and analyzing
results; and celebrate what was accomplished. Further, schools often strengthen
programs by supporting a part or full-time service-learning coordinator, offering
professional development to teachers to integrate service-learning in existing
courses, and by establishing partnerships with community organizations who host
student servers. (The National Leadership Youth Council has produced a service-
learning cycle which depicts best practices in the field. See (http://www.nylc.org/
sites/nylc.org/files/SLCycle_2PgHandOut.pdf)).
While there are few studies that have tested service-learning from a national
perspective using rigorous research methods (e.g., randomized control trials with
longitudinal designs), there is a substantial body of evidence demonstrating the
promise of service-learning on a smaller program by program scale. This research
points to the notion that service-learning has benefits because it is more engaging
for some students than traditional instructional methods (Pickeral 2008). In assess-
ment of written essays comparing students who were and were not exposed to
service-learning, those with service-learning demonstrated greater increases in
cognitive complexity over time. In the social and emotional realm, studies
show increased student agency to address community issues, stronger interpersonal
skills coordinating with adults and others who are different, and better attendance
(Pickeral 2008). Furco (2002) found that youth who participated in service-learning
showed increased development of ethics compared to nonparticipating
students, and results from a study by Laird and Black (2002) revealed that
service-learning was related to social-moral awareness and social agency.
Melchior and Bailis 2002 reported that students who enrolled in service-learning
courses had a decline in factors that were associated with risk behaviors. In the area
of civic engagement, there is a strong relation between service-learning and
increases in leadership skills, connection to the community, and social capital
(Pickeral 2008).
Despite the potential of service-learning to support youth development and
while it has an established presence in schools, there are several reasons service-
learning is yet to be considered a mainstream education intervention (Levine 2008).
First, there is a lack of empirical evidence demonstrating the impact of programs on
students’ academic learning. Second, in the past decade, the No Child Left Behind
policy has narrowed the curricular focus, and cause programs focused on whole-
child development – such as service-learning – to be expendable in many schools.
Third, schools shy away from service-learning because of the complexity, the time,
and the resources it takes to design and implement high-quality service-learning
programs. Further, there is also concern that schools do not have the capacity or
personnel to manage students serving at sites away from school nor can schools
protect students when engaging in certain types of service that may jeopardize
their safety. Fourth, there is a lack of understanding of the parameters of the
992 E. Metz
service-learning approach and the lack of adoption as a school-wide intervention.

Lastly, there is concern among some politicians, school boards, and other commen-
tators that some forms of service may be overtly used for partisan political purposes.
33.10.3 School-based Service and Civic Engagement
There is a growing body of research which demonstrates that well-designed and

implemented school-based community service programs foster aspects of citizen-
ship and help students gain new skills while learning academic content (Youniss
and Yates 1996; Metz and Youniss 2003; Flanagan and Faison 2001). Yet despite
research on specific programs and the increasing rates of service participation on
a national level, research continues to show that youth today are no more proficient
in civics or likely to vote than in previous years (NAEP 2010; Carnegie Corporation
2003). This “service/politics split,” as some commentators call it (Walker 2002),
has prompted speculation that today’s youth view service not as a means to but as
an alternative to civic and political engagement (Putnam 2000). Other commenta-
tors have shifted the debate away from servers themselves and instead placed the
onus on the ideological perspectives that underlie the service programs through
which youth are involved (Barber 1994; Kahne and Westheimer 1996). These
authors state that service programs that emphasize individualistic acts of altruism,
helping, or charity have little capacity to connect students’ everyday concerns to the
political process. Rather, the authors insist that programs must collectively engage
young people in service that addresses broader social and institutional issues and
can lead youth to become active and critical thinkers about the obligations and
responsibilities of democratic citizenship.
As Kahne and Westheimer (1996) note, programs that do not promote critical
thinking risk promoting “a thousand points of the status quo” or fostering the kind
of noblesse oblige, whereby the well-off learn to feel obligated to help the less
advantaged. Further, as stated by Barber (1994), young people need to learn and
understand that service is more than about helping or giving back to the less
fortunate but that free democratic communities depend on mutual responsibility
and that rights without obligations are ultimately not sustainable. Applying this
perspective to service, programs designed to link students’ experiences to aspects of
citizenship and to lead to critical reflection of social and political issues are the
forms of service that will enhance aspects of civic engagement (Kahne and
Middaugh 2008). In this regard, the answer may be that some types of service are
more likely to promote civic engagement than others, especially ones that prompt
youth to reflect on the political basis of social problems such as poverty, homeless-
ness, disparity in distribution in wealth, racism, the environment, and so on.
Research by Metzet al. (2003) demonstrated that different types of service were
related to gains in certain areas but not others. In a study of volunteers in a public
high school, students who performed direct service for a social issues, such as
serving meals at a homeless shelter or visiting the elderly, had increased concern for
homelessness and poverty compared to students who performed other forms of
service, such as tutoring or coaching, or administrative service.
33.10.4 Research on School-Based Programs
Similar to the literature on national service, there is agreement in the field that
there is a need for more rigorous research to determine the factors that contribute
to strong programs and to assess outcomes from school-based service programs
(Levine 2008). While evidence on whether and how youth benefit from service
continues to emerge, the existing body of prior research is largely missing
longitudinal designs, lacks comparison groups, had not handled issues related to
self-selection, has not controlled for variations in intensity of service, does not
assess the cost expended by schools, and lacks contextual data on program
philosophy. To this point, despite the widespread prevalence of school-based
community service programs, few research studies on school-based service
appear in top-tier and refereed education journals, and few research studies are
posted on the U.S. Department of Education’s What Works Clearinghouse, which
describes itself as the central and trusted source of scientific evidence on what
works in education. Such evidence is likely needed to advance service into
mainstream circles in education.
33.11 Conclusion
In many forms, youth service challenges portrayals of youth as problems in

society and highlights young people’s efforts as competent citizens who actively
participate and contribute to the betterment of society. Because of the perceived
benefits to participants and recipients, policies and programs have been
implemented to provide youth structured opportunities to play an active role in
their communities. Researchers see ample evidence that at least some forms of
service encourage students to participate in their communities later. Students who
serve have the chance to meet people unlike themselves which can lead to an
informed worldview. Service makes youth more likely to be civically oriented
later as adults.
As described throughout this chapter, more rigorous and focused research is
needed to examine the field of youth community service. Yet, after two decades of
research, we do know that community service in itself is not the solution, but rather,
the quality of the programs is what matters when it comes to benefiting youth
participants and recipients of service projects. Still in question, is how many pro-
grams are of high enough quality to support youth in developing and learning,
helping communities, and encouraging greater civic and social commitment as
youth grow into adults.
The potential of youth community service is real. One powerful example where
a well-designed and implemented project enriched student learning and affected
change in a community occurred in the state of Iowa. In his 7th grade science class
in 2008, Dr. Hector Ibarra’s students performed research on the pollutants that
untreated filters leached into the soil. Through their analyses, students estimated the
cost of treatment and projected that 351,000 gallons of usable oil could be
994 E. Metz
recovered with a small effort. The student’s research was presented to local political
leaders and led to passage of a bill by the Iowa legislature to control the disposal of
used oil filters. When Iowa Governor Culver signed bill, he was surrounded by the
7th grade team whose work was responsible. (For information on this project, see:
http://www.leadzero.org/Siemens.We.Can.Change.the.World.Challenge.html) In
what is often described as a growing era of consumerism, individualism, and
competition to get into college and to get the highest paying job, community service
offers opportunities for positive youth development.
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Time Use, Inequality, and Child Well-Being
34
Sara Raley
34.1 Introduction
A vast array of studies from various disciplines have examined the way in which
people’s time use has significant implications for their health, financial security,
and general well-being. Children’s time use, however, is a bit more complex
because children do not have the same autonomy over their time as adults do.
Although adults may feel as if they are at the mercy of their jobs and family
responsibilities when it comes to planning their daily activities, they typically
have more choices – even when those choices are constrained – than children,
particularly very young children, do. Evaluating the way in which time use has
implications for children, therefore, involves an examination of two strands of
research: (1) those that seek to understand how parents’ time spent with children
has implications for child outcomes and (2) those that examine children’s own time
use (with and without caregivers) in the context of various measures of children’s
well-being.
Measurement issues are also paramount in both the study of time use as well as
child well-being. In the case of time use, it is often a matter of how (i.e., how is time
spent in various activities calculated?), and in the case of well-being it is typically
a matter of what (i.e. what indicators of well-being will be assessed?). This chapter
first describes what is widely considered the highest quality measure of time use:
the time diary. Second, the chapter explores the activities that are most often linked
to children’s well-being, including both those activities that parents do with and for
their children as well as those activities that children do apart from their parents
using examples from children’s time diaries the 1997 Child Development Supple-
ment to the Panel Study of Income Dynamics. These activities and their implica-
tions for child well-being, of course, vary by the age of the child, and time use
S. Raley
Department of Sociology, McDaniel College, Westminster, MD, USA

1000 S. Raley
estimates are shown for preschool-aged children and children aged 6–12. Other
intervening factors such as social class and gender are also explored with particular
attention to parental education as a key indicator of social inequalities. Finally,
the chapter will conclude with an examination of some of the more recent studies
that have tried to tackle causality to better understand how very young children’s
time investments in some activities may have implications for their later
development.
34.2 Children’s Time Use: Methodologies
There are three primary ways to measure people’s time use: (1) asking respondents
to indicate on questionnaires how much time they spend in various activities,
(2) prompting respondents to recount their day in a time diary, and (3) contempo-
raneously. Some researchers, particularly anthropologists, also use observational
approaches to understand people’s time use behaviors. Over the last several
decades, the prevailing methodology for studying time use patterns in the USA
and nearly every country in Eastern and Western Europe has been the time diary.
The time diary is preferred largely because of its validity and cost-effectiveness
relative to alternative methods. Most research that has compared time diary meth-
odology with stylized survey questions has found time diaries to yield superior
estimates of time use (Bianchi et al. 2006; Robinson and Godbey 1999).
34.2.1 Stylized Questions on a Survey
Perhaps the simplest and most cost-effective strategy for collecting data about
children’s time use is to simply ask parents and/or children to respond to specific
questions about their time spent in various endeavors via a stylized question on
a survey. Questions usually take the form of “How often have you . . .?” or “How
much time over the past [time referent] did you spend . . . ______?” Although this
method is inexpensive and easy to administer, it is often wrought with error and
bias. First, the questions must be posed in a way that directly asks the respondent
about participation in specific activities. In the case of activities that are socially
desirable (or undesirable), respondents may over- or underestimate their time spent
in such activities. For example, Hofferth (2006) found that when parents are asked
about how much time they read to their children, much higher levels of “reading to
children” are reported than what is ascertained through other methodologies that do
not directly ask respondents to estimate time spent reading. A similar comparison
by Presser and Stinson (1998) found church attendance to be overreported when
data was based on stylized questions. Second, questions rely heavily on the ability
of respondents to accurately recall their daily activities. Even well-intentioned
respondents who do not intentionally exaggerate their time spent in socially desir-
able activities may have difficulty recalling how much time they spend in activities
that are not likely to be done in solid blocks of time throughout the day, week,
34 Time Use, Inequality, and Child Well-Being 1001
month, or year. Time spent sleeping, for example, may be easier to recall than other
more intermittent activities like talking on the phone. The recall period is critical
because it is obviously much easier to remember time spent in activities that are
more recent than those that took place a week or month ago. Surveys that ask
respondents to report on the amount of time spent doing activities last week tend
to have more error than those that ask respondents to report yesterday’s tasks
(Juster and Stafford 1985).
34.2.2 Time Diaries
Diary data collections are structured in a way that helps the respondent accurately
report activities and forces the respondent to adhere to a 24-h constraint so that
people cannot report implausible amounts of time use. Participation in many
routine activities, like time with family members and watching television, occurs
in short segments throughout the day that may be difficult for a respondent to
remember and properly calculate in response to a survey question. Time diary data
are an appealing alternative to other methods because they are collected in a way
that guides respondents through their day until the entire day’s activities are
recorded. Though there are different versions of time diaries (yesterday, tomorrow,
last week), the most common is the yesterday format. Respondents selected to
participate in the study are interviewed and asked to recount their previous day’s
activities sequentially (when interviewed with the yesterday format). Respondents
are first given a time referent, which is usually midnight of the previous day, and
asked what they were doing at that time in order to ease recall. Interviewers also ask
respondents about where they were at the time they engaged in the activity (e.g., at
home, work, school) and whom they were with (e.g., parent, sibling, friend) until
the full 24 h of the day is recorded.
Perhaps one of the most appealing features of the time diary is that it is not
clear to the respondents how the data will be used by researchers. Respondents are
self-reporting how they spend time and are not cued about what activities are of
most interest to the researchers. At the same time, time diaries are still subject to
social desirability bias because sexual activity and deviant behaviors tend to be
underreported (Robinson and Godbey 1999).
One dual strength and weakness of the diary is that it captures routine behavior
extremely well – particularly key behaviors that are linked to children’s well-being.
Spending time with children, for example, generally occurs in disjointed segments
throughout the day that a respondent might have difficulty recalling accurately if
simply asked to report how much time they spent with a child in a day. When they
are prompted to recount their daily activities sequentially by an interviewer, they
may remember their various interactions with parents more accurately and clearly.
The drawback of the diary is when the focus of the study is on regular but more
infrequent behavior, such as how often a child attends a club that meets only
once a month. The time diary may not be the ideal instrument to measure this
behavior because it does not occur often enough to be recorded in a 1-day or even
1002 S. Raley
weekly diary. Further, the methodology is expensive in that it requires much more
time spent interviewing respondents than a conventional survey questionnaire.
Historically, time diaries have been documented since the 1920s. The most
comprehensive historical time diary study, however, is the 1965 Multinational
Comparative Time-Budget Research Project involving 12 different countries. This
data collection became the standard for several subsequent international time diary
collections. Today, time diary studies have been administered in over 60 countries
spanning North America, South America, Europe, Australia, Africa, and Asia.
In the USA, a series of cross-sectional time diary studies have been conducted
since the 1960s. In January 2003, the Bureau of Labor Statistics launched the
nationally representative American Time Use Survey (ATUS), which is now the
largest time use survey ever conducted in the world. Whereas most of diary
collections focus on the time use of adult men and women, smaller-scale studies
of US adolescents and children were administered in the 1980s and 1990s.
In 1997, the Panel Study of Income Dynamics (PSID) survey added time diaries
for 3,000 children aged 3–12 as part of the Child Development Supplement (CDS),
which also includes a substantial inventory of child well-being measures. Follow-
up data collections were conducted in 2003 and 2007, making this one of the few
longitudinal diary collections and the predominant source of data about children’s
time use and well-being. Each child’s primary caregiver was asked an array of
questions about their parenting in 1997 and 2002. These questions ranged from
estimates of how often parents engage in certain activities with their children to
how much parents encourage and value their children’s participation in specific
activities. The diaries, which were administered to either the parent or the parent
and child, assessed the child’s activities beginning at midnight of the previous day
as well as the individuals (e.g., family members, friends) who were present in the
various activities with the children on both a randomly selected weekend day and
weekday. The report of “with whom” data adds a rich level of detail to the measures
of children’s time use, namely, the examination of children’s time spent with
parents. Analyses (both from the author as well as elsewhere) from these data are
detailed later in this chapter.
34.2.3 Experiential Sampling Method
Although time diary data have many appealing features relative to stylized mea-
sures on traditional surveys, both methods typically suffer from some level of recall
bias (with the exception of the less commonly used non-retrospective diaries). Even
though the period of recall for retrospective time diaries is often only one day,
people are generally not reporting their behaviors while they are doing them. The
experiential sampling method (ESM) addresses this issue by random signaling
respondents throughout the day and week and prompting them to report their
activities as they experience them (typically within 10 min of receiving a signal).
Respondents carry a signaling device, often a beeper, and record what they are
doing as well as how they are feeling. As such, ESM offers more contemporaneous
insights into the subjective experiences of time use compared with other method-
ologies. Although much detail is offered for each “signaled” activity, the full 24-h
day is generally not assessed. Thus, some experiences are missed, and the subse-
quent data may not be as comprehensive as time diaries in that respect. Partially for
that reason as well as the expense of administering the study, time diaries continue
to be the predominate methodology used to assess children’s time use.
34.3 Parents’ Time with Children
The most basic category of parents’ time with children includes parents’ time
spent in direct interactions with their children. Historically, studies of parents’
time with children focused on mothers’ time given that mothers are typically the
primary caregivers of children while fathers generally focus on breadwinning
(Townsend 2002). Although it is still the case that mothers spend far more time
with their children, on average, than fathers do, fathers’ time with children has
increased dramatically since the 1960s (Bianchi et al. 2006). In light of this
change, fathers’ time with children is now a major area of study among social
scientists and policy makers. Much attention has been paid to the various factors
that are positively correlated with father involvement as well as the types of
activities that fathers tend to do with their children. For example, Bianchi et al.
(2006)’s examination of historical time diaries over the past five decades indicated
that fathers’ increased their time in routine activities (e.g., changing diapers) with
their children more dramatically than they increased their time in interactive
activities (e.g., playing games). In sum, some studies of parents’ time with
children focus solely on maternal involvement, whereas others focus on paternal
involvement, and still others focus on how both parents interact with their
children.
A small subset of studies have also examined the correlation between paternal
and maternal time in two-parent families. Indeed, the more time mothers invest in
child care, the more time fathers spend with their children (Aldous et al. 1998;
Bianchi et al. 2006). From the child’s perspective, children spent about 4.5 more
hours per week with their fathers in families with college-educated mothers
compared with families where mothers do not have a college degree
(Sandberg and Hofferth 2001). Thus, children may get a “boost” of parental time
by residing in a highly educated two-parent family.
It is important to keep in mind that time spent with family members varies
significantly by children’s age. For example, Larson et al.’s (1996) examination of
school-aged children found that older children, aged 16–17, spent about 14 % of
their waking hours with their family compared to 33 % for children aged 10–11.
Even though time with family decreases with age, the amount of time talking with
family members does not decline (Larson et al. 1996).
Several of these studies examining parents’ time with children have found areas
of inequality in that more highly-educated mothers spent more time in direct child
care activities than less-educated mothers (Hill and Stafford 1985; Zick and
1004 S. Raley
Bryant 1996; Bianchi et al. 2004). Moreover, one study reported that education was
not associated with father’s physical care of preschool-aged children (Aldous et al.
1998), whereas studies that examined the relationship between paternal education
and time with school-aged children found either no association (Barnett and Baruch
1987; Ishii-Kuntz and Coltrane 1992; Pleck 1981; Zick and Bryant 1996) or a slight
positive one (Aldous et al. 1998; Marsiglio 1991; Hofferth and Anderson 2003;
Yeung et al. 2001; Fisher et al. 1999).
Lareau (2003) describes how middle-class parents are heavily involved in their
children’s lives, closely monitoring their children’s activities, while working-class
parents are generally less attentive to their children’s time expenditures. Working-
class parents encourage their children to have more autonomy in unstructured
leisure pursuits and stress the value of extended kin ties beyond the nuclear family
bonds that middle-class families emphasize. Hence, Lareau’s (2003) work suggests
parent-child time may be lower in working-class and poor families, but time with
extended family may be greater.
Knowing the whereabouts and activities of children is an important way in which
parents invest in children, even when parents are not directly interacting with or
supervising their children. Parents may know a child’s whereabouts by spending
time with them, or they may do so by monitoring the child’s activities (Crouter et al.
1990). The former is a bit easier to assess directly, and therefore fewer studies
examine parental monitoring when compared with studies on direct parent-child
interactions (Hoff et al. 2002). Some developmental psychologists suggest, how-
ever, that parental monitoring is an important intrafamilial process linked to child
development, particularly among school-aged children (see Maccoby and Martin
(1983) for a comprehensive review). Specifically, higher levels of parental moni-
toring are associated with better school functioning (Brown et al. 1993; Dornbusch
et al. 1987; Jacobson and Crockett 2000), particularly among boys (Crouter et al.
1990). Boys, perhaps because of their relative biological immaturity and/or differ-
ential socialization, may require more structure and guidance from adults to achieve
the standard set by girls their age (Crouter et al. 1990).
Though many scholars are interested in parents’ overall time spent with children,
most studies focus on parents’ time spent in specific activities with children, as
some activities are more likely to cultivate family bonding (e.g., eating dinner
together, time with extended family) and others (e.g., reading to children, teaching
children) are more closely linked to developmental outcomes. The range of parental
childrearing activities that stimulate children’s development and academic
performance extend far beyond parents’ basic caretaking activities. In other
words, it is not simply how much time parents spend with children, but what they
do together.
Among preschool-aged children, the focus tends to be on activities like reading
and playing with parents, whereas among school-aged children, the focus tends to
be on parental investment in schooling and children’s time in extracurricular
activities. Literature in this area tends to be dominated by the work of family
sociologists and developmental psychologists. Developmental psychologists in
particular hone in on the verbal interaction of parents and children and the nature of
the interaction between parents and children. Parent-child interactions are analyzed
not only in the context of how much parents and children talk but also how parents
elicit conversations with children and the extent to which they offer warmth and
affection in such interactions.
34.3.1 Language Use
Paramount among such parent-child interactions is parental talk – providing

children with labels for objects, responding contingently to children’s speech, and
engaging children in conversation. This is a key component of Annette Lareau’s
(2003) conceptualization of “concerted cultivation” among middle-class families
who groom their children for middle-class careers in part through extensive use of
verbal faculties in the home at an early age. In their efforts to cultivate an
environment that maximizes their children’s cognitive development, middle-class
parents spend a great deal of time and effort talking with their children, asking their
children questions, and directly interacting with their children. Working-class
parents, on the other hand, are not as focused on engaging in frequent conversations
with their children and are generally less attentive to their children’s verbal
faculties.
Support for Lareau’s (2003) argument can be found in the work of developmen-
tal psychologists and educational sociologists who find parental (particularly mater-
nal) education influences the way parents interact with and teach their children.
First, well-educated parents are more likely to cultivate a stimulating home envi-
ronment with more reading materials and greater encouragement of skill-building
and cultural activities than less-educated parents (White 1982; Mayer 1997;
Bradley and Corwyn 2002; DeGarmo et al. 1999). Well-educated parents are also
more likely to read to their children (Bianchi and Robinson 1997; Hofferth 2006;
Sandberg and Hofferth 2001) and engage their children in conversations, conver-
sations which tend to be more complex and elicit their children’s feedback
(Hoff-Ginsberg 1991; Shonkoff and Phillips 2000) than less-educated parents.
Well-educated mothers are more likely to use inquiry (e.g., asking children ques-
tions) and praise as teaching strategies compared with less-educated mothers who
use more directives (e.g., commanding the child to pursue a given course of action),
modeling (e.g., the child observes the mother rather than participating in the
learning activity directly), and negative physical control (e.g., physical punishment)
(Laosa 1980).
34.3.2 Reading, Television Viewing, and Playing
A handful of time diary studies of children’s time use have shown children with
more highly-educated parents spend more time in reading activities and less time
1006 S. Raley
watching television than children with parents who are not highly-educated
(Bianchi and Robinson 1997; Hofferth and Sandberg 2001a; Timmer et al. 1985).
These studies generally focus on children’s time in these activities and do not assess
whether a parent is engaged in these activities with the children. In fact, much of the
research examining parents’ time with children in specific activities like reading is
ascertained through “stylized” estimates where parents are directly asked how
much time they spend reading to their children rather than from parent time diaries.
These estimates show that maternal education is positively correlated with reading
to children (Dye and Johnson 2006; Federal Interagency Forum on Child and
Family Statistics 1997; Hofferth 2006).
Recent work by Hofferth (2006) uses children’s time diaries from the 1997 Child
Development Supplement to examine children’s time spent reading with parents,
pointing out that estimates obtained from stylized questionnaires are misleading
because of the social and cultural desirability biases connected to questions about
reading. This is particularly problematic in studies examining the relationship
between maternal education and parents’ time spent reading to children because,
as Hofferth (2006) notes, even though most parents are aware that they should read
to children, “more educated parents are probably the most aware of the benefits of
and social pressures to read to children” (302). She finds that better-educated
parents are more likely to exaggerate the extent to which they read to children
when estimates from self-reports are compared with estimates obtained from time
diaries. It is important to reiterate that both types of estimates consistently show
better-educated parents read more often to their children than less-educated parents.
The difference, however, is not as large when the focus is on time diary estimates,
which tend to be more valid than stylized questions (Robinson 1985).
Another area of time use that is subject to social desirability bias and also varies
by maternal education is watching television. Children’s television viewing is
a nebulous topic that on the one hand elicits high levels of concern from social
observers but on the other hand is a pervasive activity in American homes (Brown
et al. 1990). As Lareau (2003) noted in her study, middle-class parents tended to
have more negative opinions about television viewing than working-class and
poor parents, but television viewing was pervasive across all family types she
observed. Time diary analyses of children under age 13 indicate that children of
better-educated parents watch less television than children of parents with less
education, but both groups of children spend large amounts of time in front of the
TV (about 12 h a week on average), and nearly all children (90 %) spend at least
some of their time watching television (Bianchi and Robinson 1997; Hofferth and
Sandberg 2001a).
Livingstone (2009) points out that there is a contradiction in the two popular
images of television viewing in the family context. The first is that the romanticized
image of television viewing is a family activity where all members of the family
convene happily in front of the television to relax together and discuss their favorite
program (Spigel 1992). Some parents may even see the television as a way to keep
their children at home and out of neighborhood trouble. Indeed, Larson et al. (1989)
showed a positive correlation between television viewing and time spent with
family – although there was a stronger positive association between children’s time
spent reading and time with family. The quality of the parent-child interactions
associated with television viewing, however, is questionable. As Himmelweit et al.
(1958:25) noted five decades ago:
Television does keep members of the family at home more. But it is doubtful whether it
binds the family together more than in this physical sense, except while the children are
young. As they grow older, their viewing becomes more silent and personal. Also, as
children grow into adolescence, the increased time spent with the family may set up strains,
since it runs counter to their need to make contacts outside (25).
The second, more pervasive image of television is that of “a solitary child

alone in front of the set, square-eyed and trance-like, while real life goes on
elsewhere” (Livingstone 2009:1). Increasingly, as more and more diverse channels
make their way into television programming, and the number of televisions in the
average American home remains high (3.4), family television viewing as a shared
family experience seems to be more of an idealistic notion than a reality (Brown
et al. 1990; Livingstone 2009). Moreover, the developmental effects of television
remain unclear. Research does not seem to indicate there is a strong link between
television viewing and achievement, but large quantities of time spent watching
television arguably takes time away from other activities that might be positively
linked to cognitive development (Hofferth and Sandberg 2001a; Larson and
Verma 1999).
Television viewing and reading are the parent-child activities most consistently
associated with variation by parental education. Lareau’s (2003) research suggests,
however, that better-educated parents may also be more willing to engage in play
activities with children as compared with less-educated parents who may be more
apt to encourage children to play on their own or with other neighborhood children.
Though there is no clear empirical evidence that maternal education is linked to the
time mothers spend in play activities with children, better-educated fathers spend
more time playing with, reading to, or going on outings with young children when
compared with their less-educated counterparts (Cooney et al. 1993). Fathers with
higher levels of education also stimulate, respond to, and provide more care to their
9-month-old infants than less-educated fathers (Volling and Belsky 1991).
34.3.3 Eating Meals Together
As one might expect, the bulk of the literature on family meals focuses on the
dietary and health aspects of such parent-child interactions. Yet, there is a smaller
body of literature that focuses on eating meals together as a time to build family
rituals that might be important for child development (Fulkerson et al. 2006). For
example, Fulkerson et al. (2006) suggest eating meals with family members can be
viewed as a “time for togetherness and socialization within the family” (338).
Hofferth and Sandberg (2001a) argue that children’s time spent in meals at home
reflects “a more stable, organized family life,” noting also that research directly
1008 S. Raley
assessing children’s time spent in family meals is limited (297). Further, a few
studies examining the frequency of family meals suggest that these activities may
be associated with outcomes for children beyond their physical health. Eisenberg
et al. (2004), analyzing school-based survey questionnaires, found inverse relation-
ships between the frequency of family meals and grade point averages. Addition-
ally, Hofferth and Sandberg’s (2001a) assessment of the time that children under
age 13 spent eating meals using children’s time diaries in the PSID-CDS indicated
that eating meals was positively and significantly associated with letter-word scores
in 1997. This analysis, however, did not directly assess the time children spent
eating meals with their parents.
34.3.4 Parental Warmth and Affection
A final aspect of parent-child interaction that is of interest to scholars examining the

relation between parental time with children and child well-being is the context of
parent-child interactions. The extent to which parents show their children warmth
and share their affection for their children are key components of providing
socioemotional support for children, which developmental psychologists empha-
size as important for “helping children cope with basic anxieties, fears, and feelings
of emotional insecurity” (Bradley and Corwyn 2004:11). Parents’ provision of
socioemotional support plays an important role in children’s development by
minimizing stress – encouraging their children to see how situations are manage-
able and continuing to validate their children’s worth.
Though these parental efforts may seem difficult to quantify, a commonly
used series of questions asking how often parents display various types of affection
and socioemotional support to children are often used to assess parental warmth
and affection. A recent Child Trends (2002) report analyzing such measures
indicated parents report very high levels of showing physical affection to children,
and a majority of parents reported telling their children they were loved on a daily
basis, though these outward displays of warmth decline moderately as children age
(Bradley et al. 2001). Few studies have investigated how levels of socioemotional
support vary by parental characteristics, though fathers generally tend to show less
warmth and affection to children than mothers.
In light of the forgoing findings that suggest parents’ time with children is
associated with various indicators of child well-being, this chapter presents ana-
lyses from children’s time diaries obtained from the 1997 Child Development
Supplement to the Panel Study of Income Dynamics. The PSID, which extends
back to 1968, is a longitudinal, nationally representative sample of US individuals
and their families. Therefore, the children in the CDS can be traced back to the
families in the PSID. The objective of the PSID-CDS was to collect comprehensive
and nationally representative information about children and their families that
would aid researchers examining the social and economic differences that are
associated with child development. With this goal, the PSID-CDS collected
(1) the cognitive, behavioral, and health assessments of the target child obtained
from the mother, a second parent or parent figure, teacher or child care provider,
and the child; (2) child time diaries; (3) teacher-reported time use in school pro-
grams; and (4) survey measures of other home, school, and neighborhood resources
devoted to the child.
Data were originally collected on up to two randomly selected 0- to 12-year-old
children of PSID respondents, both from the primary caregivers and from the
children themselves. The first wave of the study was conducted between March
1997 and December 1997 with a break in June through August, so only the school
year is covered. The overall response rate for 1997 is estimated at 88 % of those in
the PSID. Poststratification weights based on the 1997 Current Population Survey
were used to make the data nationally representative.
Given that the interest of this chapter is in parents’ time with children, the
42 children whose primary caregivers were either a legal guardian (32 children)
or another adult (10 children) in 1997 are omitted from these analyses. The sample
is also restricted to those children who completed both a weekend and weekday
diary. About 82 % of children aged 0–5 completed both a weekday and weekend
diary, and 82 % of children aged 6–12 completed both diaries in 1997. The final
analytic sample for this study is 2,325 children aged 0–12 in 1997 whose primary
caregivers were parents who were household heads or wives and who completed
both a weekend and weekday diary.
Table 34.1 describes several diary measures available in the 1997 PSID-CDS for
both very young children under age 6 as well as school-aged children aged 6–12.
Although nearly any aspect of a child’s day can be analyzed with time diaries, this
chapter focuses on those indicators that have historically been associated with
measures of child well-being. These include children’s time spent reading, playing
(including video games), watching television, eating meals/snacks, receiving
lessons, and participating in organized activities. Organized activities included
organized team and individual sports as well as “active sports,” which include
time in traditionally team-based sports like football, basketball, baseball, volley-
ball, tennis, and golf that the respondent does not clearly identify as being organized
or structured. Nonathletic organized activities include time spent in volunteer
and helping organizations; professional and union organizations; child, youth, or
family organizations; fraternal organizations; political and civic unions; special
interest organizations; before/after school clubs; and travel related to organizations.
Estimates for these measures are provided in Tables 34.1 and 34.2. Later in
the chapter, there is discussion as to how these measures are associated with
indicators associated with child well-being.
Table 34.1 shows time use estimates from the 1997 Child Development Supple-
ment to the Panel Study of Income Dynamics for preschool-aged children (0–5). All
the figures in this table are ascertained from the children’s time diaries. Average
hours per week are shown for the selected activities of parents’ overall time with
mother, overall time with father, time spent reading, time spent playing, time spent
watching television, and family meal time. For some activities, it may be more
important for a child’s development that the child engages in the activity at all as
opposed to how often he or she participates in it or whether or not the child engages
1010 S. Raley
Table 34.1 Preschool-aged (0–5) children’s overall hours per week with parents and in selected
enrichment activities with parents
Mean/percentage (SE)
Time with parents
Hours per week spent with mother 32.4 (0.66)
Hours per week spent with father 15.7 (0.54)
Reading
Percent who read with parents 45.2 % –
Reading with parents among participants only 2.5 (0.13)
Overall hours per week child read with parents 1.1 (0.08)
Overall hours per week child read without parents 0.3 (0.05)
Playing
Percent who played with parents 77.5 % –
Playing with parents among participants only 9.6 (0.43)
Overall hours per week child played with parents 7.4 (0.37)
Overall hours per week child played without parents 13.5 (0.45)
Watching TV
Percent who watched TV with parents 55.1 % –
Watching TV with parents among participants only 6.2 (0.36)
Overall hours per week child watched TV with parents 3.4 (0.24)
Overall hours per week child watched TV without parents 6.7 (0.29)
Eating meals together
Percent eating meals with parents in diary 91.1 % –
Hours eating meals with parents in diary among participants 5.5 (0.16)
Overall hours eating meals with parents in diary 5.0 (0.17)
N 1,039
Source: 1997 Child Development Supplement to the Panel Study of Income Dynamics
in the activity with a parent. As such, the table shows several estimates for each
measure: the percent who engaged in the activity on their diary day, the average
hours/week participants spent in the activity, and the overall averages for the
activity across participants and nonparticipants. For some activities, like reading,
the time spent in the activity in the presence of a parent is shown as well as time
spent without a parent present given that both indicators may be related to child
well-being.
As one might expect, young children spend large amounts of time with
their parents, especially their mothers. They spend about 32 h per week with their
mothers and about half of that amount of time with fathers – 16 h per week. The
second half of Table 34.1 focuses on specific activities that parents do with their
children – activities that may provide some sort of stimulation to children’s
cognitive development including reading and playing. Most parents (78 %) spend
some time playing with their children on diary days, whereas about half of parents
read to their children (45 %), and a little over half of parents (55 %) watch television
with their children. What is startling about the figures in this part of the table is the
Table 34.2 Children’s (aged 6–12) overall hours per week spent with parents and in selected
enrichment activities with parents
Time with parents
Hours per week spent with mother 18.7 (0.49)
Hours per week spent with father 11.1 (0.41)
Reading
Percent who read with parents 15.9 % –
Reading with parents among participants only 2.2 (0.13)
Overall hours per week child read with parents 0.3 (0.04)
Overall hours per week child read without parents 0.8 (0.08)
Playing
Percent who played with parents 32.5 % –
Playing with parents among participants only 4.2 (0.30)
Overall hours per week child played with parents 1.4 (0.13)
Overall hours per week child played without parents 10.1 (0.40)
Watching TV
Percent who watched TV with parents 60.9 % –
Watching TV with parents among participants only 6.3 (0.24)
Overall hours per week child watched TV with parents 3.8 (0.20)
Overall hours per week child watched TV without parents 9.0 (0.35)
Percent eating meals with parents in diary 80.5 % –
Hours eating meals with parents in diary among participants 3.5 (0.10)
Overall hours eating meals with parents in diary 2.9 (0.10)
N 1,286
Source: 1997 Child Development Supplement to the Panel Study of Income Dynamics
high level of television viewing with parents, particularly in comparison to reading.

Young children spend about 3.4 h a week watching television with their parents and
6.7 h watching television without a parent present and are read to a little over an
hour (1.1) a week. When the universe is restricted to those who watched any
television with their parent on their diary day, the figures ratcheted up to nearly
an hour per day (6.2 h per week). It is somewhat surprising that such young children
spend so much time in front of the television – presumably very young
children cannot understand much. Though there are videos specifically designed
to be interactive tools for young children and their parents (e.g., baby Einstein),
the diaries do not assess the content of the television programming.
Although young children seem to watch a lot of television, parent-child play
activities trump television viewing by a two-to-one margin. Children spend about
7.4 h playing with parents, which is more than double the 3½ h spent watching
television with parents. Add to this figure the 13.5 h per week that children spend
playing when not with parents, and playing time consumes about 21 h of young
children’s weeks.
1012 S. Raley
The bottom of Table 34.1 shows children’s diary accounts of their time spent
eating meals with parents. This measure gets at the routine nature of parent-child
interactions and parents’ attempts to cultivate daily communication with their
children, although these tasks may be more difficult when children are very
young because their verbal abilities are limited, and also eating dinner together at
a table may be impractical for families with infants. Diary reports for this measure
are quite high, however, despite the young ages of the children. Over 91 % of
children eat meals with their parents. The measure of eating meals together is
somewhat limited, though, given that eating is often reported as a “secondary”
activity (indeed, some children report no eating on their diary days), and further, it
is not confined to dinner exclusively, which is the family meal on which most
researchers focus. Once again, however, the reported levels of parent-child meals in
the diary are high (keeping in mind that these children are very young and the way
in which parents eat together as a family is likely to be qualitatively different than
when children are older). Nearly all of children ate meals with their parents on the
diary day – an estimated 5 h a week.
Because children have very different needs when they are young and more
dependent compared to when they are older and more self-sufficient, parents are
involved with their children in different ways depending on the age of child
(Waldfogel 2006). For example, parents with younger children spend more
time reading and playing with their children than when they have older children
(Davis-Kean and Sexton 2005). Older children can presumably read on their own and
may be more likely to seek interaction with peers as opposed to parents. Given the
vast developmental differences between preschool-aged children and children aged
6–12, a separate table showing the same cluster of activities is shown in Table 34.2.
Developmental psychologists suggest that around age 6, children begin to
demonstrate skills (e.g., problem-solving) and behavior (e.g., forming social rela-
tionships) that differ dramatically from their early childhood (Kowaleski-Jones and
Duncan 1999). Specifically, children between the ages of 5 and 7 develop an ability
to comprehend and manage abstract ideas and objects. The period between 6 and
9 is marked by the development of more complex reasoning skills, and by ages
10–12, children demonstrate the ability to reason by testing alternative hypotheses
to physical and social problems (Collins 1984). In short, children learn the basic
skills to help them navigate adult life during this period of middle childhood
(Erikson 1963).
The bulk of studies on parents and children tend to focus on children under age
13, perhaps because adolescents are more self-sufficient and are less available to
spend time with parents. Middle adolescence in particular is a time when parental
controls loosen and, perhaps more importantly, access to automobiles opens up
opportunities for mobility. In most families, junior high-aged adolescents are not
allowed to go out on their own at night, but by high school parents tend to give their
children more freedom. Parents report 14 to be the age at which it is acceptable for
adolescents to begin going to boy-girl parties at night and 16 to be the appropriate
age for the start of dating (Feldman and Quatman 1988). Further, the amount of time
spent away from home increases as children enter high school (Larson et al. 1996).
Adolescence is a period when children do not require as much direct care from
their parents as younger children, but nevertheless still require parental care,
supervision, and intervention. Parent-child interactions at this age may be some-
what less frequent than younger children given the busy schedules of adolescents,
but such interactions may still be critical to their well-being and development.
In sum, by the time children are aged 13 and over, they are generally more
self-sufficient than younger children, are granted more autonomy over their time
by their parents, and spend large amounts of time socializing with their peers
(Larson and Richards 1994).
Children’s overall time with parents and time in selected enrichment activities
with parents are shown in Table 34.2 for children aged 6–12. On average, children
in middle childhood spend about 19 h a week with their mothers and 11 h a week
with their fathers. They spend only nominal amounts of time reading and playing
with parents at this age. Though the low time spent reading with parents is
understandable given that many of these children may be able to read on their
own without the help of an adult (only about 16 % of children spent any time
reading with their parents on the diary days), the levels of playing with parents seem
low when compared to the levels of television viewing with parents.
Only about a third of children played with their parents on the diary days,
whereas over 60 % of children watched television with their parents. Time spent
in TV viewing with parents also trumped time in play activities by a 3 to 1 margin –
children spent 4 h a week watching television with their parents and only 1.4 h per
week playing with parents. Though parents are busy and children have friends to
play with when they are school-aged – they spend about 10 h a week playing
without their parents present – parents and children still make large amounts of time
to watch TV together as opposed to more hands-on activities like playing games.
Further, children spent large amounts of time watching TV that was not accompa-
nied by a parent – an average of 9 h a week.
Eating meals together is a popular family activity when children are in middle
childhood. About 81 % of children reported eating a meal at any time of day with
the parent. Additionally, parents and children spent a fair amount of time eating
together during the week – around 3 h a week.
In addition to the overall estimates for parents’ time with children from the 1997
CDS-PSID, Tables 34.3 and 34.4 show the variation in children’s time with parents
by maternal education, an important indicator that prior studies (described earlier in
this chapter) have shown to be associated with both parents’ time with children and
child well-being outcomes. Table 34.3 shows differences between children whose
parents are college-educated and those whose parents have less than a college
degree in children’s time with parents as well as their time spent reading, playing,
and watching television with their parents. All of the estimates in the table are
predicted means and percentages adjusted for an array of demographic variables
that are known to affect both time use and parental education, including family
income, race, parental age, and number of children in the household. The predicted
values are obtained from OLS and logistic regression models (available upon
request).
1014 S. Raley
Table 34.3 Adjusted estimates of preschool-aged (0–5) children’s average hours per week with
parents and in selected activities with parents by maternal education
Mothers have Mothers have Mothers Mothers
less than high HS degree have some are college
school only college educated
Time with parents
Hours per week spent 33.5 31.5 32.2 32.9
with mother
b
with father
Reading
a,b
Percent who read with 29.0 % 35.9 % 49.1 % 54.9 %
parents
Reading with parents 3.5 3.8 4.4 4.3
among participants only
a,b
Overall hours per 0.6 0.8 1.4 1.5
week child read with
parents
week child read
without parents
Playing
b
Percent who played 82.7 % 72.1 % 80.4 % 87.0 %
with parents
Playing with parents 10.4 8.9 9.4 9.1
week child played with
parents
Overall hours per week 14.6 13.9 15.1 13.3
child played without parents
Watching TV
Percent who watched TV 61.9 % 55.0 % 53.6 % 54.3 %
with parents
a,b
Watching TV with 8.6 7.0 5.4 4.5
parents among
participants only
a,b
child watched TV with
parents
child watched TV
without parents
Percent eating meals with 90.7 % 93.5 % 92.1 % 94.9 %
parents in diary
Overall hours eating meals 5.3 5.2 4.6 5.3
with parents in diary
(continued)
Table 34.3 (continued)

Mothers have Mothers have Mothers Mothers
less than high HS degree have some are college
Hours eating meals with 6.0 5.6 5.1 5.7
parents in diary among
participants
N 187 310 326 216
Note: Predicted means based on OLS and logistic regression models that control for mother’s age,
sex of the child, race of the child, family income, family structure, maternal employment, number
of children in the family, and season of the time diary
a
Children of college-educated mothers different from children of mothers with less than high
school, p-value <0.05
b
Children of college-educated mothers different from children of mothers with only a high school
degree, p-value <0.05
Table 34.3 indicates that preschool-aged children’s time with parents seems
relatively similar regardless of how well educated their mothers are. Children’s
time with mothers does not seem to vary at all by maternal education, and time with
fathers shows some variation by maternal education, though the relationship does
not appear to be linear. Children whose mothers have a high school degree only
spend significantly less time with their fathers when compared with children of
college-educated mothers (13.8 h/week compared with 17.2, respectively). Chil-
dren whose mothers have less than a high school degree spend similar amounts of
time with their fathers (16.3 h per week) as children whose mothers have attained
a college degree.
In contrast to the findings for children’s overall time with parents, children’s
participation in specific activities with their parents shown in the bottom half of
Table 34.3 tend to vary as a function of maternal education, though the variation is
more substantial for some activities than others. The two most prominent gaps are
those in reading and television viewing – and the primary divide tends to be
between mothers who have at least some college or more and children of mothers
who have less than some college education. Children of highly-educated
mothers read with parents more often than children of less-educated mothers –
about 55 % of mothers with a college degree and 49 % of mothers with some
college read to their children on the diary days, whereas only 36 % of mothers with
only a high school degree and 29 % of mothers with a high school degree or less
read to their children. These differences amounted to a 26 % point gap between
children whose mothers were the most highly educated and those whose mothers
had the least education. Better-educated mothers also spent more time reading to
their children, on average, at an hour and a half per week compared with just over
half an hour per week (for children whose mothers had less than a high school
degree). Among those children who spent any time reading, levels were high:
children of mothers who had attained college spent almost 4 and a half hours
a week reading with their parents compared with children whose parents were
1016 S. Raley
Table 34.4 Adjusted estimates of children’s (aged 6–12) overall hours per week with parents and
in selected enrichment activities with parents by maternal education
Mothers have Mothers have Mothers Mothers are
less than high HS degree have some college
Time with parents
a
with mother
with father
Reading
a,b
Percent who read with 2.2 % 11.1 % 17.5 % 25.3 %
parents
Reading with parents 1.8 2.8 1.8 2.2
a
child read with parents
a
week child read
without parents
Playing
a,b
Percent who played 19.3 % 29.6 % 31.3 % 43.9 %
with parents
Playing with parents 4.5 3.8 5.0 3.1
week child played
with parents
week child played
without parents
Watching TV
c
Percent who watched TV 75.2 % 65.8 % 48.2 % 60.5 %
with parents
a,b
Watching TV with 7.3 6.9 5.5 5.2
parents among
participants only
a,b
child watched TV with
parents
a,c
child watched TV
without parents
Percent eating meals with 77.3 % 79.0 % 86.3 % 82.0 %
parents in diary
Overall hours eating meals 2.8 2.7 3.2 2.7
with parents in diary
(continued)

Hours eating meals with 3.6 3.5 3.7 3.4
parents in diary among
participants
N 224 435 396 231
Note: Predicted means based on OLS and logistic regression models that control for mother’s age,
a
b
c
Children of college-educated mothers different from children of mothers with some college,
p-value <0.05
less educated who spent around 3½ h a week reading, holding other family and
demographic characteristics constant. Children’s time spent reading on their own
(without parents present), which is arguably quite difficult for preschool-aged
children, was consistently low across educational groups and, if anything, tended
to be higher among children with less-educated mothers (though no differences
were statistically significant).
Playing games with children was a much more popular activity for parents and
children than reading, and this showed only slight variance by maternal education.
When adjusting for other demographic factors, 87 % of mothers who have gradu-
ated college played with their children on the diary days compared with 83 % of
parents who had less than a high school degree. The group with the lowest predicted
percentage of playing with their children on the diary days was high-school-
educated (only) mothers at 72 %. Children’s overall time spent in play activities
with and without parents also showed little variation by maternal education.
The bottom two panels of Table 34.3 focus on television viewing and eating
together. Although the frequency of family meals varies little by maternal educa-
tion among preschoolers, the trends in television viewing are a bit more complex.
On the one hand, there is not much difference by maternal education in the percent
of children who watch television with their parents. Just over half of all groups of
children reported watching television with their parents on their diary days. On the
other hand, major variation by maternal education was evident in the average hours
children spent watching television with their parents – children whose mothers have
acquired a college degree watched the least overall at about 2.5 h per week
compared with 5.2 h a week among children whose parents who had not attained
a high school degree. Children whose mothers had only a high school degree
watched about 3.9 h per week, and children whose mothers had some college
watched about 2.9 h per week with their parents.
1018 S. Raley
Quite surprisingly, there is less variation in the amount of time children spend
watching television without their parents present, even though TV time without
parents is generally greater than the TV viewing with parents. Children with better-
educated mothers still tend to watch less television when their parents are not with
them than children of less-educated mothers, holding other demographic factors
constant, but these differences are smaller and not statistically significant. If we
consider the proportion of television viewing that is accompanied by a parent, it is
actually lowest among the children with college-educated mothers (54 %) and some
college-educated mothers (54 %) and highest among children with mothers who
have less than a high school degree (62).
Table 34.4 shows the same selection of activities by maternal education for
children aged 6–12. Similar to Table 34.3, this table shows adjusted differences in
maternal education calculated from predicted values generated from multivariate
regression models that control for a host of child and family background controls
including parent’s sex and age; child’s sex, age, and race; family income; family
structure and parental employment; and season of the diary (full regression models
available upon request).
Overall, children with mothers who have a high school degree or more appear to
spend more time (about 6 h more) with their mothers than children of mothers who
have not completed high school. Father time, however, looks generally similar by
maternal education when adjusted for variables like family structure. The
major differences that persisted once demographic factors, particularly family
structure, had been accounted for were children’s time spent reading and watching
television with parents – the activities previous research suggests should differ
the most by maternal education. About 25 % of children aged 6–12 whose
mothers were college-educated read with their parents in 1997, compared
with only 2 % of children whose mothers were less-than-high-school educated.
When the universe was restricted to all children who did any reading on their
diary days, however, there was almost no variation by maternal education, and
children of mothers who had only a high school diploma reported the highest levels
of reading.
It is possible that the trends for reading with parents indicate that children
of better-educated mothers are more proficient at reading than children of
less-educated mothers and thus need less help from their parents. Indeed, the
amount of time children spent reading without the aid of a parent was around
1.2 h per week among those whose mothers were college-educated, 0.8 h per week
among children whose mothers had some college or a high school education, and
0.4 h per week among children whose mothers had less than a high school degree
(only differences between college-educated mothers and those with less than a high
school degree were statistically significant at p < 0.05). Though children’s time
spent reading without the assistance or direct oversight of a parent is not necessarily
a direct parental investment, the idea is that parents are likely encouraging or
instituting some sort of rules about how much time their children should spend
reading. This would not be captured in the measure of parent-child reading time,
and hence the examination of reading with and without parents.
In addition, children of college-educated mothers were more likely to engage in

play activities with their parents on the diary days when compared with children of
mothers who had not obtained a high school degree (44 % compared with 19 %). At
the same time, much less difference in children’s average hours per week in play
activities with and without parents was observed by maternal education once the
estimates were adjusted for other demographic factors like maternal employment.
Television, in contrast to reading and playing, was negatively related to maternal
education. Children of better-educated mothers were less likely to watch television
and watched significantly less television with their parents than children of less-
educated mothers. Additionally, the amount of time children of well-educated
mothers watched when parents were not with them was lower than that of children
with less-educated mothers. Again, the idea here is that well-educated mothers may
be more likely than less-educated mothers to limit their children’s television
viewing, even when they are not with their children. This may not be as direct an
investment in children’s well-being as parents’ direct oversight of children’s
television viewing, but it nonetheless reflects how the activities that better-educated
families orchestrate for their children may differ from those of less-educated
families. Finally, consistent with the findings for younger children, the level of
eating meals with parents showed little variation by maternal education.
34.4 Children’s Scholastic and Structured/Organized Activities
Parents rear their children not only through direct interactions but also through the
ways in which they encourage and manage their children’s involvement in activities
outside the home. Assessing the extent to which parents enroll and encourage their
children’s involvement in various organized and structured activities constitutes
another domain of parenting that is positively linked to child well-being, particu-
larly scholastic achievement (Astone and McLanahan 1991). This is an area that
primarily attracts the interest of educational sociologists as well as developmental
psychologists who specifically focus on children’s participation in extracurricular
activities and community programs. This is arguably the most expansive area of
research because many activities, including reading and talking with children as
well as involvement in extracurricular activities, can be (and often are) conceptu-
alized as activities that promote children’s success in educational endeavors. There
is another cluster of studies, however, that focus specifically on parents’ involve-
ment with teachers and school personnel, as well as other direct interventions
related to the child’s scholastic activities.
There are several ways in which parents can be and are involved with their
children’s schooling, including attending school activities, participating in parent-
teacher associations, and meeting with teachers and administrators. Studies typi-
cally focus on one of these activities as a measure of parental investment in
schooling (Grolnick and Slowiaczek 1994), and some forms of investment are
analyzed more extensively than others. As one might expect, social scientists
examining parental investment at all levels of schooling (elementary, middle,
1020 S. Raley
and high) have consistently found that better-educated parents tend to be more
actively involved in their children’s school than less-educated parents (Lareau
1987, 2003; Fehrmann et al. 1987). Specifically, better-educated parents are more
likely to have contact with teachers, be involved with school (e.g., attend events),
and be involved with children’s scholastic activities at home (e.g., help with
homework and reading assignments) (Kohl et al. 2000).
Similar to the findings for parental investment in children’s schooling, middle-
class parents are also more likely than working-class and poor parents to enroll their
school-aged children in extracurricular activities, such as team sports, music les-
sons, and community organizations (Lareau 1987, 2003). Data from the Survey of
Income and Program Participation (SIPP) child well-being topical module collected
in 2003 indicate a majority of all children participate in at least one club, sport, or
lesson. Gaps by parental education in activity participation are pervasive across the
three types of extracurricular activities and persist for both children in middle
childhood (those aged 6–11) as well as adolescents (those aged 12–17) (Dye and
Johnson 2006).
Children’s time diaries across the 1981–1997 period suggested that when the
focus was on sports activities in particular, maternal education was positively
associated with children’s sports participation when children were under age 13
(Hofferth and Sandberg 2001b). More recent time diary evidence, from the
2002–2003 PSID-CDS, suggests that maternal education is positively related to
the number of structured activities children (aged 9–12) do (Hofferth et al. 2009).
Children’s time diary evidence also suggests that although involvement in these
activities increased as children aged through middle childhood, the amount of
structured time still only accounted for 22 % of their discretionary time (Hofferth
and Sandberg 2001a), and participation may not be as excessive as other studies
might suggest (Hofferth et al. 2009).
Studies also indicate that participation in extracurricular activities promotes
educational attainment, including reduced propensities to drop out of high school,
high achievement, and high rates of postsecondary school attainment. Although
most analyses of extracurricular activities are conducted with adolescents, studies
suggest that the positive associations between participation in organized activities
and academic outcomes are similar for younger children and adolescents
(see Mahoney et al. 2005, for a review). Further, involvement in extracurricular
activities may have benefits that extend beyond childhood and adolescence – more
dated studies document positive relationships between extracurricular involvement
and adult income and occupation, even after controlling for other socioeconomic
indicators and ability (Landers and Landers 1978; Otto 1975, 1976).
Mahoney et al. (2005) argue that participation in extracurricular activities has
several features that promote positive development among children: physical and
psychological safety, appropriate structure, supportive relationships, opportunities
for belonging, positive social norms, support for efficacy and mattering, opportu-
nity for skill building, and integration of family, school, and community
efforts. Involvement in organized activities may influence scholastic outcomes by
promoting school attendance, encouraging high aspirations for the future, reducing
delinquent and criminal behavior, keeping children from developing drug and
alcohol problems, and staving off antisocial behavior. Lareau (2003) argues that
children’s involvement in extracurricular activities and parents’ active encourage-
ment of those activities teaches children how to interact with authority figures and
helps them to develop the kind of social skills necessary for succeeding in white-
collar occupations. Their participation in these activities prepares them for entering
the work world and effectively navigating bureaucracies. As Adler and Adler
(1994) note, children’s organized activities during the after-school time period
tend to “encourage professionalization and specialization, opposing children’s
unorganized tendencies toward recreation and generalism” (324). Children’s play-
time has therefore become an opportunity for adults to socialize children with adult
work values. Further, because extracurricular activities may promote children’s
academic socialization and development, those who do not participate may be at
a disadvantage in other scholastic venues (Adler and Adler 1994).
Table 34.5 details how parents invest in children’s educational and organized/
structured activities among families with children in middle childhood (aged 6–12),
as this is the group who are school-aged and most likely, partially because they are
at a point in their development where they have the ability, to be involved in several
organized/structured activities relative to younger children. The top of the panel
shows several measures obtained from questionnaires outside the diaries in the
1997 CDS-PSID about parents’ tendency to be involved with their children’s
school, including volunteering, meeting with teachers, attending school events,
and going to parent-teacher association meetings. These questions include: “During
the current school year, how often have you participated in any of the following
activities at (child’s) school? Would it be not in the current school year, once or
more than once?” The activities examined include: volunteered in the classroom,
school office, or library; had a conference with (child’s) teacher; attended a school
event in which (child) participated such as a play, sporting event, or concert; and
attended a meeting of the PTA or other such organization. Possible answers
included: not in the current school year, once, and more than once. The answers
were coded into two categories that separated parents who had ever engaged in the
activity from parents who had not done so in the current school year. The rest of the
table shows measures obtained from child time diaries encompassing structured
leisure activities including lessons, sports, and organizational activities. The bottom
of the table shows other sports activities that are not traditional team-based sports
that are organized and supervised by adults.
Of the various activities related to children’s schooling that parents report doing
in the stylized questionnaire, the most common is meeting with teachers. The vast
majority of parents (over 80 %) met with their children’s teachers at least once in
the past school year and most attended a school event for the child (66 %). Fewer
parents did more indirect activities related to their children’s education – less than
half of parents attended a PTA meeting (43 %) and a little over a third (36 %)
volunteered in some capacity for the school.
Children’s participation in extracurricular activities including lessons, sports,
and structured activities like girl scouts and after-school clubs was much lower than
1022 S. Raley
Table 34.5 Children’s (aged 6–12) participation in educational, organized, and structured
activities
Scholastic activities
Parent volunteered with school 35.6 % –
Parent met with teachers 82.6 % –
Parent attended school event for child 65.7 % –
Parent attended PTA 42.9 % –
Total structured leisure activitiesa
Percent participating in structured leisure activity on diary day 27.5 % –
Hours per week spent in structured leisure among participants 6.2 (0.43)
Hours per week spent in structured leisure activities 1.7 (0.16)
Lessons
Percent participating in lessons on diary day 5.6 % –
Hours per week spent in lessons among participants 5.3 (0.36)
Hours per week spent in lessons 0.3 (0.05)
Sports
Percent participating in organized sports on diary day 13.9 % –
Hours in sports among participants 7.7 (0.65)
Hours per week in meets, games, practices for sports 1.1 (0.13)
Organizational activities
Child participated in organizational activity on diary day 10.4 % –
Hours per week in organizations among participants 3.4 (0.64)
Hours per week in organizational activity 0.4 (0.08)
Other active sportsb
Percent participating in active sports activity on diary day 43.3 % –
Hours per week spent in active sports activity among participants 5.9 (0.28)
Hours per week spent in active sports 2.5 (0.17)
N 1,286
a
Total structured activities include lessons, sports, and organizational activities
b
Other active sports activities include traditional team-based sports like football that are not
necessarily organized/structured/supervised by an adult/coach
anticipated given all the attention given to children’s enrollment in these activities
in recent years. Only around 6 % of children did lessons on the diary day, 14 % had
a practice or meet for an organized sport, and around 10 % participated in organi-
zational activities like clubs. None of these activities characterized a majority of
children, yet what is notable about children’s participation in organizations is that
children spent large amounts of time in these activities when they were selected into
them – about 5–7 h a week. It is important to keep in mind, however, that these
estimates are taken from two 1-day diaries and multiplied to construct a weekly
measure. Hence, if a child only has a practice or meet once a week, the weekly
measure is grossly overstating the frequency with which children engage in these
kinds of activities. At the same time, the involvement in some organized sports
teams can be quite intensive with daily practices and meets during the week, and
hence this calculation may be appropriate for such activities. Regardless, the
estimate should be interpreted with caution.
In contrast to the activities that are clearly identified by the respondent as being
organized, the other active sports are shown at the bottom of Table 34.5. These
activities are traditional sports like football or tennis that are not necessarily
organized and structured through a school or community center (e.g., the family
goes to play tennis together at the park or neighborhood kids getting together to play
football). Participation in these kinds of active sports is much higher than the
individual and team-based sports at just over 43 % of children.
Table 34.6 shows the variation in educational and structured/organized activities
by maternal education, in light of the substantial evidence that children’s time in
such activities varies widely by parental educational attainment. Similar to
Tables 34.3 and 34.4, estimates are predicted means and percentages based on
OLS and logistic regression models that control for mother’s age, sex of the child,
race of the child, family income, family structure, maternal employment, number of
children in the family, and season of the time diary (full OLS and logistic regression
models available upon request).
Consistent with prior research and theories, Table 34.6 shows that children of
better-educated mothers were more likely to participate in some kind of structured
activity (including lessons, sports, or organizational activities) than children
of mothers who have attained only a high school degree or less. Around 31 % of
children with college-educated mothers spent any time in a structured activity
compared with 29 % of children with mothers who had some college, 25 % of
high-school-educated mothers, and about 9 % of children of parents with less than
a high school diploma. Children with better-educated mothers also spent about an
hour more a week in structured leisure activities than children with less-educated
mothers, though only the differences in overall participation (not length of partic-
ipation) between children with college-educated mothers and those with mothers
who have less than a high school education were statistically significant.
As noted earlier in the chapter, levels of participation in lessons, sports, and
organizations were still somewhat low for all groups. Only the adjusted gaps
between children of college-educated mothers and those with mothers who did
not have a high school diploma in participation in lessons and organizational
activities were statistically significant. The percentage of children aged 6–12
participating in active sports that were not necessarily structured looked similar at
around 41–45 %, regardless of maternal education.
34.5 Time Use and Achievement
A handful of studies have explored the explanatory power of parent-child time

use patterns for understanding child outcomes and, in particular, for understand-
ing the socioeconomic status-achievement link. For example, the greater vocab-
ulary breadth and sentence complexity of mothers’ speech patterns with their
children fully accounted for the positive relationship between parental education
1024 S. Raley
Table 34.6 Adjusted estimates of children’s (aged 6–12) participation in educational, organized,
and structured activities by maternal education
Scholastic activities
b
Parent volunteered with 29.4 % 26.9 % 37.9 % 44.6 %
school
a,b
Parent met with teachers 79.6 % 77.1 % 86.8 % 90.4 %
Parent attended school 24.7 % 38.9 % 49.3 % 54.8 %
event for child
a,b
Parent attended PTA 24.7 % 31.2 % 35.3 % 40.6 %
Total structured leisure activitiesc
a,b
Percent participating in 8.8 % 24.8 % 29.4 % 30.8 %
structured leisure activity
on diary day
Hours per week 1.0 1.7 2.2 1.8
spent in structured
leisure activities
in structured leisure
among participants
Lessons
a
Percent participating 0.6 % 3.9 % 3.7 % 5.9 %
in lessons on diary day
in lessons
Hours per week spent in 7.1 5.7 4.9 4.9
lessons among participants
Sports
Percent participating 4.1 % 9.9 % 9.9 % 10.5 %
in organized sports on
diary day
Hours per week in 0.8 1.1 1.3 0.9
meets, games, practices
for sports
Hours in sports among 6.0 7.6 8.5 6.5
participants
Organizational activities
a
Child participated in 2.5 % 6.4 % 9.9 % 10.5 %
organizational activity
on diary day
organizational activity
organizations among
participants
(continued)

Other active sportsd
Percent participating in 44.8 % 44.1 % 41.0 % 41.9 %
structured leisure activity
on diary day
structured leisure among
participants
structured leisure activities
N 224 435 396 231
Note. Predicted means based on OLS and logistic regression models that control for mother’s age,
a
b
c
Total structured activities include lessons, sports, and organizational activities
d
Other active sports activities include traditional team-based sports like football that are not
necessarily organized/structured/supervised by an adult/coach
(and occupational prestige) and early vocabulary development among a sample of

2-year-olds (Hoff 2003). Children who experience longer and more complex
verbal interactions with their parents may therefore be able to build their vocab-
ularies at faster rates than other children. Using cross-sectional data, Davis-Kean
(2005) found that the positive association between reading and parental education
helped to explain children’s academic achievement, while playing with
children and parental warmth were not clear mediating variables. These findings
suggest parents’ time in an array of stimulating activities beyond basic childcare
are key to promoting children’s cognitive development.
As noted earlier, one of the appealing analyses of the children’s time diaries
from the CDS-PSID include the high-quality child well-being indicators available
in the data. As such, it is one of the few data sets that can link time use with well-
being. Such correlations must be examined with caution, however, as even carefully
collected, representative longitudinal data cannot establish causality. It is simply
not possible to account for all of the things happening in the children’s home
environment, the genetic variation in children, or the external events and actors
outside the family that influence children’s development. At best, the data offer
circumstantial evidence on how children’s time use may be linked to various
achievement and behavior outcomes.
At the same time, Cowan and Cowan (2002) point out that dismissing the
findings derived from correlational studies that do not conclusively determine the
1026 S. Raley
direction of parenting effects is unwarranted. In other words, “Ambiguity

concerning the direction of effects does not rule out the utility of all concurrent
correlational designs” (77). Even if the extent to which time use patterns “cause”
various behaviors and outcomes in children cannot be proven, these correlations
can still offer insight into the nature of time use, inequality, and well-being.
In a series of OLS regression analyses not shown, children’s verbal abilities were
examined in the context of their time use patterns both at the cross section in 1997
and over time (using the second wave of data collected in 2002). Analyses exam-
ined the extent to which the activities that varied by maternal education were
significantly associated with children’s verbal achievement and also examined the
extent to which children’s time use patterns explained the relationship between
maternal education and children’s verbal scores. Among young children, reading
with parents was a critical difference between highly and less-educated families
that was linked to children’s verbal abilities. In addition, preschool-aged children’s
television viewing with parents was also negatively and significantly associated
with children’s verbal scores.
By the time children reach school age, however, reading is negatively and
significantly associated with verbal achievement. At this age, reading with parents
seems to be some sort of assistance to children who are struggling, rather than
a general investment that may enhance children’s verbal development. Children of
highly educated mothers get this kind of help at rates much higher than children of
less-educated mothers (almost no children whose mothers are less-than-high-
school educated receive reading help from their mothers). This means children
of well-educated mothers are more likely to get a kind of protective assistance
from parents at a time when they may need it the most. There is a general tendency
to think of the advantages conferred by highly educated parents as some sort of
fast-tracking that helps their already advantaged children pull even further ahead.
This finding suggests that the children of educated mothers may also be
advantaged in that their parents may be more likely to intervene when they fall
behind. In sum, highly educated parents are not only likely to read to their children
during the critical formative years of brain development, but these parents may
also be better able to provide the kind of assistance their school-aged children need
when they are having problems with their verbal abilities.
The analysis of children’s participation in structured activities, particularly time
in organizational activities like after-school clubs, suggests a consistent connection
with current and later verbal aptitude, offering support for the contention that
involvement in structured activities enhances children’s skills that help them
succeed academically. While this analysis cannot fully account for selection effects
into structured activities – perhaps those with greater genetic verbal ability and
reasoning skills are the children who most seek out involvement in community and
scholastic organizations – it is a finding nonetheless consistent with the literature
suggesting that children’s participation in such activities offers a host of benefits to
children that enhance their academic success and general well-being. Greater
attention to what components of the organized activities that might be associated
with development is needed as well as more creative study designs that better
control for selection effects. Further, it is possible and indeed probable that these
kinds of parental investments may have implications for other areas of children’s
lives beyond verbal scores, which future research should explore more fully.
Finally, the array of time use measures assessed in this chapter only marginally
explain the positive relationship between maternal education and children’s verbal
achievement. Other family resources, including income and maternal ability, seem
to play larger roles in understanding how and why children of better-educated
mothers are more likely to have high-achieving children than less-educated
mothers. At the same time, when children’s activities are considered in bundles –
when children’s reading and TV viewing and structured activities are included in
the regression model together – children’s time use patterns rival family income in
their ability to explain the relationship between maternal education and children’s
verbal achievement scores. In this sense it is the many things that better-educated
mothers do for their children – not just one activity in particular – that helps to
explain why their children are advantaged relative to youth whose mothers have
less education. In particular, this chapter highlighted the importance of reading,
limiting television viewing, and encouraging participation in structured activities.
34.6 Future Directions: Subjective Experiences of Time
Time diaries allow for rich insight into objective experiences of people’s time. The
way in which people and, in particular, children feel about their participation in
various activities is a much more nebulous area of investigation. The potential
stress or enjoyment of engaging in many organized activities cannot be ascertained
with traditional time diary methodology. As such, innovative approaches to under-
standing the subjective dimensions of time use that can be attached to the traditional
diary are underway. In 2010, for example, a Well-Being (WB) Module was fielded
as part of the American Time Use Survey. The WB Module gathered information
about how people felt during various activities and included general health
indicators.
34.7 Summary
This chapter began with a description of time diary methodology, the most widely
used approach to measuring time use in the world. Drawing on previous literature as
well as author calculations from the 1997 Child Development Supplement to the
Panel Study of Income Dynamics, the chapter then detailed the activities that
children do, both with their parents and on their own, that tend to be associated
with children’s well-being. The discussion focused on parental education as a key
indicator of social inequalities. Lastly, the chapter discussed efforts to understand
subjective dimensions of time use as well as recent study designs that have sought
to better understand how children’s time use patterns may have implications for
their verbal development.
1028 S. Raley
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Section V
Arts, Creativity and Child Well-Being
Images of Child Well-Being in the Arts
35
Ellen Handler Spitz
35.1 Learning from the Arts
What can we learn about child well-being and parenting from attending to imagery
created by artists? Let us start from the premise that just as a theorist instructs by
means of lectures and formal treatises; just as a therapist teaches by reference to the
treatment of patients; an anthropologist, by means of experienced and recorded field
work; a teacher, by citing lessons from the classroom; likewise, an artist – a gifted
painter, writer, or filmmaker – parlays psychological truth by means of his or her
chosen medium. The arts, however, are rarely considered primary sources of
knowledge about childhood; yet, they should be, for the arts offer multilayered
insights of enduring value.
The intuitive sensitivity that comes into play when children articulate their needs
and their percepts nonverbally cannot be imparted by intellectual means alone.
Children, for example, understand far more than they verbalize. Precept and theory
are not the only royal roads to understanding. Sensibility may also be cultivated
through mindful attentiveness, careful observation, and, eventually, by creative
emulation. These are ways of learning privileged in the arts. A senior Dalcroze
expert, Ruth Alperson of New York (Alperson Ruth, (2012), personal communica-
tion, 26 May 2012) who works with toddlers, describes a pertinent aspect of her
method: she sits at the piano and simply watches as 2- and 3-year-olds walk
unselfconsciously about the room. Gradually, intuitively, as she falls in with
a particular child’s natural rhythms, she starts to improvise on the keyboard, playing
music that matches that child’s unique body language, following the child
around the room with sound. As she does this, the child begins to listen ever
more attentively, and the music becomes an integral part of his movement
E.H. Spitz
Honors College and the Department of Visual Arts, University of Maryland (UMBC), Baltimore,
MD, USA

1036 E.H. Spitz
through space. A child’s unreflective walk, Alperson explains, tells us much about
him, but this is knowledge we would have great difficulty imprisoning in the
straightjacket of verbiage.
Works of art – paintings, novels, films, plays, sculptures, dance, and music –
offer countless opportunities for experiential, observational, and imaginative
learning. As members of the audience for them, whether optically, auditorily, or
in our mind’s eye, we are invited to participate vicariously. Fictional characters
gesture and interact; paying close attention to them in paint, or on screen or stage, or
in the pages of a literary text, we notice how they meet or miss each other’s subtle
cues. In her classic Drama of the Gifted Child, Alice Miller (1981) points out that
social norms often prevent us from experiencing genuine feelings: we turn away
from “jealousy, envy, anger, loneliness, impotence, anxiety” (p. 9). Through the
arts, however, we may safely and with minimal risk permit ourselves to feel
intensely what is not permitted to us elsewhere.
Although we have made astonishing strides in science and technology,
we remain stagnant in the realm of relationships among ourselves. The most
fundamental of these is that between parents and children, for this bond precedes
and prefigures the rest. In religion, in politics, in education, and in the arts, the
parent-child relationship forms an ineluctable paradigm. To evolve, we must search
for insight outside the usual designated channels. Within and beyond the university,
the study of human relations belongs, however, to the social sciences, where
problems are identified and labeled, statistical and empirical proofs offered, and
solutions proposed. The arts and literature operate differently: they invite us to
explore aesthetic and imaginary worlds, to suspend disbelief, and to enter unreal
realms that often entail powerful feelings with rippling effects; the arts press us into
searches for emotional meaning; they open horizons but do not close gates;
they ask, but they leave us alone to answer. The arts give us opportunities to live
out their scenarios with minimal risk to life and limb. As such, they constitute
a proving ground for life.
35.2 Historicity and the Notion of Child Well-Being
As preface to this brief essay on child well-being reflected in the arts, it may be
helpful to take a bow in the direction of a landmark work of scholarship, Centuries
of Childhood, by the French scholar Philippe Ariès (1960). The purpose of such an
obeisance would be to remind ourselves with humility that contemporary notions
regarding childhood need to be understood as historically contingent. Ariès’s work,
to be sure, has not been immune from criticism; yet it provides significant evidence
that watershed changes in societal attitudes toward youth arose in Europe and
America in response to the industrialization that swept across these geographic
regions in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. The modern family as we know
it (a configuration that appears in our time to be undergoing seismic change, at
least in the United States and Europe) came into being only recently, and the work
of Ariès serves as a corrective for assumptions that contemporary ideas about
35 Images of Child Well-Being in the Arts 1037
childhood and parenting are universal or transhistorical or that they can, without
skepticism, supplant all ideas that precede or parallel them.
Archaeology and anthropology remind us that the upbringing of children occurs
within particular cultures that exist for a limited duration and that both subtly and
overtly determine the values that will be passed on from one generation to the next,
values that differ significantly. We recall Clifford Geertz’s (1973) indispensable
notion of “thick description.” Even if one were to argue for the superficiality of
cultural differences, it would be hard to deny that, superficial or not, these dissim-
ilarities mandate conflicting practices concerning the upbringing and education of
youth, all of which function within given sociopolitical communities. It may be true
that all societies value youth to some extent and seek to provide for the well-being
of children; however, that goal itself entails, and has entailed, models that range
from top-down highly controlled environments dictated by supposedly wise adults
to models that, by contrast, privilege measures of freedom and choice for children
and foster children’s burgeoning independence rather than unquestioning
obedience to authority. In both scenarios, the well-being of youth is at least
nominally asserted, but behavior toward the young differs dramatically.
From our vantage point in contemporary Western societies, let us broach the
limiting and extremely disquieting example of adult sexual relations with minor
children. Undoubtedly, we deem such behavior not only reprehensible and morally
indefensible but damaging to the psyches of children. Moral, legal, and medical
authorities all prohibit it. Yet, as classical scholarship reveals (Dover 1987; Laes
2006; Dasen and Spaeth 2010), this attitude of opprobrium was not held throughout
the history of Western civilization. In ancient Greece, older men engaged in sexual
practices with boys as a matter of routine, and in Augustan Roman society, among
the elites, male children of the servant class engaged in sexual acts with adult men
as a matter of common practice, one sanctioned as normal and acceptable. Romans
felt, apparently, little if any concern about consequent psychic trauma on the part of
children so involved. Rather than import our contemporary values, might we not
reflect whether we can be certain that – under the particular, given, social circum-
stances described – psychic trauma was suffered by the involved children, as we
would define the terms today? How independent, in other words, is the childhood
experience of psychic pain from culturally sanctioned mores? This seems a moot
question with far-reaching implications.
Likewise, elite Roman patrician girls of 12 or 13 were married to spouses chosen
by their fathers and sent away from their homes of birth without parental concern
over their anxiety beforehand or depression afterward. Again, we might hesitate
before presuming we know the feelings of girl-brides of antiquity. Rather, we
might pose our difficult question anew: Could it be that sensations of anxiety,
loss, and abandonment are mitigated or even absent under conditions of practice
that – whether we today would deem them inhumane or not – are widely accepted in
a given sociocultural group? The arts offer us, incidentally, a wealth of imagery
pertinent to this theme albeit with no definitive answers (Keuls 1985).
Our undismayed attention to unsettling questions such as these may help place
our own inquiry into its historical framework. To recognize the contingency of
1038 E.H. Spitz
behavioral norms is to wonder whether what we take irrefutably as “child

well-being” may in fact prove a constellation of practices and notions that work
best just within our own circumscribed contexts.
Until very recent history, in keeping with dominant, power-perpetuating
constructs of “human beings” as adult white heterosexual males, children were
regarded as undersized, imperfect, and unfinished beings. When the default for
“human being” is an adult Caucasian male specimen, every other incarnation falls
short: a child, a woman, a person of color, or a foreigner of any alternative
description. Thanks to the unrelenting impact of social activism, worldwide
political upheaval, twenty-first century globalism, and major shifts in population,
this construct is waning, and yet it clings like a species of tenacious ivy and remains
both sluggish to wither and difficult to root out. To study the images of childhood, it
is essential to hold it in abeyance, lest it overrun our consciousness all unawares.
35.3 Mother-Child Imagery in Italian Renaissance Painting
For centuries in Europe, the principal – and virtually the only – child depicted in
visual art, that is to say, in painting, sculpture, mosaic, illuminated manuscript, and
stained glass, was the Holy Child birthed within Christianity, that religion being all
powerful on the continent. The Christ child was ubiquitously portrayed as an infant,
almost always with his mother, in a massive outpouring of canonical images that we
refer to as the “Madonna and Child” (Warner 1983). To study the progression of
these images iconographically, from late Roman antiquity through the Byzantine
period to the Italian High Renaissance and beyond, is to learn how children (in the
guise of the infant Christ) were depicted as miniature adults with corresponding
bodily proportions and then how, little by little, they were accorded a separate
and more lifelike physiognomic status of their own in these representations
(Adams 1985). Giotto di Bondone, painting his tender, luminous frescoes in
Florence and in Padua, reveals himself to us as not only an early artistic genius
but a brilliant psychologist, who looked sensitively at babies and who understood,
for example, that an infant being handed over to a strange bearded man would not
go willingly but would reach back instinctively and longingly toward his mother
(Presentation in the Temple, c. 1320, Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum, Boston).
In Giotto’s picture, the tiny infant Christ pushes away the face of the high priest and
leans toward his mother’s outstretched hands.
Even earlier, the glorious Duccio di Buoninsegna, painting masterfully in Siena
during the waning years of the dugento, recorded images of babies fingering their
mothers’ mantels exploratively, as babies are wont to do, when they conduct their
indispensable research projects to learn what comes off the body and what does not
(the Stoclet Madonna, Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York). In other maternal
dyads from this period by Duccio, notably panels in London and Siena, the
baby often gazes directly into his mother’s eyes so we can feel the rapport that
unites them.
It is not, however, until after the Black Plague, not till the quattrocento proper,
that artists can be found who study small children with sufficient attention to remark
their salient physical differences from grown-ups and draw them accordingly, with
characteristically large heads and chubby limbs. Masaccio’s sumptuous Madonna
with Angels of 1426 in London’s National Gallery is a prime example. A plump,
naked baby boy perches contentedly on his mother’s knee and sucks the first two
fingers of his left hand while she cradles his well-padded thigh. Here, we no longer
find a diminutive adult but an actual child, round, heavy, and massive. Undraped,
unlike earlier images where the Christ child is robed and fully covered, this baby’s
nudity allows the artist to show us the essential elements of a child’s actual body.
By Raphael’s time, we encounter an even richer understanding and further
psychological sophistication. Take his beloved Madonna della Seggiola of 1514
in the Palazzo Pitti, Florence, where, in a tondo composition, the master brings us
close to a baby just under 1 year of age, who has attained the developmental stage
when infants tend to shrink from strangers because it is clear to them that whereas
some people are well-known, others are not, and this difference needs to be
signaled. The baby’s mother, a beautiful young Italian woman, turbaned and
tasseled in refulgent oriental splendor, protects him with both arms as she looks
cautiously out at us, and he clings warily to her. In images such as these, we discern
a growing sensitivity to the feelings of children. The artist Raphael, in his empathic
feeling for his subject, perceives in embryo the notion that babies are not mere
objects to be manipulated but sensible creatures in their own right who experience
fears, pleasures, and moods.
Rarely, in all this vast assembly of images of the Madonna and Child do we
come upon pregnancy. Yet, arguably, child well-being begins before the moment of
parturition. Tolstoy (1868), in War and Peace, describes to perfection how his
character Elizaveta, Andrei Bolkonsky’s wife, perhaps in her third trimester, with
her husband away at war against Napoleon, “looked at Princess Marya [her sister-
in-law] with that special expression of an inward and happily serene gaze that only
pregnant women have. It was clear that she did not see Princess Marya, but was
looking deep inside herself – into something happy and mysterious that was being
accomplished in her.” Thus, in 1868, a consummate Russian literary genius delin-
eates in imaginative prose what a British psychoanalyst christens 100 years later:
“primary maternal preoccupation.” This felicitous phrase, coined by Donald W.
Winnicott (1956), came to him when he too noticed how a woman in the months
preceding childbirth exhibits tendencies to withdraw deep within and allow the
external world – if possible – to fall away. This turning of the mother-to-be toward
her as-yet-unborn child may betoken a preliminary indicator of that child’s future
well-being. But we must return to the Madonna.
Frescoed on the wall of a parish church in Tuscany for over five and half
centuries, there was a glorious but insufficiently well-known masterpiece by the
enigmatic Italian Renaissance painter, Piero della Francesca. This painting is a rare
pregnant Madonna, the Madonna del Parto. It was made, according to Vasari’s
sixteenth-century Lives of the Artists, when the celebrated master returned from
1040 E.H. Spitz
Rome on the occasion of his mother’s death to his birthplace of Borgo San Sepolcro
in Tuscany. Vasari (1550), whose account has been discredited for its mythic and
embroidered qualities (Vasari was born decades after Piero died), possesses many
evocative overtones, however, and scholars still read it gratefully in the lacuna
made by a dearth of contemporary sources. Vasari says that Piero was called “della
Francesca” after his mother because she was still pregnant with him when his
father died and because she continuously nurtured and encouraged him. Even
if only partly true, Vasari’s story adds resonance and pathos to what may be the
most contemplative image in all of Western art on the subject of expectant
motherhood.
The Madonna del Parto, in 1992, was moved from its original site to the wall of
a local museum. In its own village church in the middle of the small cemetery of the
Comune di Monterchi, pregnant women flocked to it for centuries to pray at its feet.
They came asking the Madonna to grant them safe childbirth and an easy delivery.
The painting’s controversial removal inspired noted Soviet film director Andrei
Tarkovsky to go to Italy and shoot images of it for his 1983 film Nostalghia.
Tarkovsky’s (1991) diaries report that when the authorities announced that the
fresco would be taken away (presumably for conservation purposes), local women
protested bitterly and pleaded for its continuing presence among them. Their
fervent appeals were denied.
Imagine climbing, on a hot summer morning, a hill in Tuscany (Spitz 2001). The
weathered gravestones lie strewn around us. We enter the small chapel that contains
the Madonna del Parto. In the gloom, a large image appears – a pensive young
woman robed in iridescent blue flanked by two angels. It is she: Piero’s Madonna
with Child. Time and circumstance are swept away. Nothing captures the uncanny
quality of pregnancy like this painting. Restless waiting. That sense of hovering on
the precipice of destiny. Inhabiting an alien time-space. Being utterly alone while
joined to an as-yet-unknown being. Feeling supremely important while at the same
time insignificant, a mere vehicle, about to be changed irrevocably, separated
forever from one’s former body-self, knowing that one momentous uncontrollable
rupture is about to occur to one’s body despite one’s will one knows not when.
The American poet Jorie Graham (1983) evokes sensations of this Tuscan scene
with its heat, its fatigue, its amazement, its faint nausea, and its vertigo in her poem
“San Sepolcro.” She recalls the pregnant Madonna’s blue dress and abstracted gaze,
her delicate, quivering fingers as they hover over the buttons on her bulging belly.
And although the artistic beauty is of a different kind in this second, poetic incarna-
tion, it is equally palpable and real. Reflecting on both of these artistic
representations – the visual and the verbal – we accede to their demand for complete
absorption – absorption, which is, of course, the quintessential state that pregnancy
itself requires: a turning inward, away from the world. This is a state parallel to what
happens when we are caught up in the intense contemplation of a work of art. It
recalls, in fact, an often overlooked moment in Freud’s (1905) famous “Dora case,”
when, as he reports, his susceptible young woman patient “went alone to the painting
gallery in Dresden, and stopped in front of the pictures that appealed to her.
She remained two hours in front of the Sistine Madonna, rapt in silent admiration.”
The learned doctor writes: “When I asked her what had pleased her so much about the
picture she could find no clear answer to make. At last she said: ‘The Madonna.’”
Puzzled by these simple words, Freud fails to grasp their import. We may feel a rush
of warmth for Dora, however, and comprehend how, enthralled before this mother
and child in all its wonder and presence, the girl could find no verbal equivalent for
what she saw. We speak, after all, of such moments themselves as pregnant. And
William Butler Yeats’ (1928) poem “Among School Children” refers explicitly to
pregnancy: “Both nuns and mothers worship images,” he writes.
Piero’s Madonna asks to be dealt with gently. She wants to be recognized,
registered, and acknowledged. Not necessarily understood. Lush and ornamental,
she lures us into her golden curtained space. We find ourselves within a dome where
buttons are coming undone and momentous events are about to occur. Bewitched,
like the Madonna herself, we stand in a parallel trance. And we feel a pang of
responsibility for all this beauty – for the blue and the gold, the richness of
the drapery and the Madonna’s distracted face, the skin and bones, and the body;
for the painting’s crust, texture; and for the web of cracks that waffle its face. Can
we restyle them as birthmarks? Traces of false starts in some long-past process of
creation, residue of moments when Piero’s hand and brush may have trembled or
his mind lost and regained concentration. What about the scars of afterpains? How
did it happen, anyway, this birth? Fast? Or did it come slowly? With anguish? With
joy? Was it a good labor, or did this object make its entry agonized and protracted
into the world that was awaiting it? And what kind of a world was that? Did anyone
weep or sigh? Did Piero simply wonder whether it crystallized his dreams and what
his mother might have thought of it (for no one would ever love him again, after her
death, as much as she)?
However vibrant, a painting – like a child – is vulnerable, even in a holy chapel
or in a museum, where it is given clean air to breathe and its temperature controlled
and where it is protected from excessive moisture and light and provided with
round-the-clock guards to protect it from harm. It can be hurt. Bombs explode.
Slashers break in. Like a child, it is composed of perishable matter. Sharing space
with it is to cultivate a special empathy and pity. It teaches us that worth comes from
cherishing. Just as do living beings in the world of earth, human, animal, and plant,
it merits an ethos of care, an ethos we undermine daily in a culture debased with
debris from neglected and abandoned objects. Unmothered. Stillborn.
35.4 Imagery in Film: A Child Mourns the Death of a Parent
Let us switch centuries now and shift to the art of film and to the subject of
a vulnerable child. War, terrorism, natural catastrophe, accident, fatal illness, or
personal savagery: any of these violations may cause the death of a parent. Can
the arts help us address a child’s well-being when one parent dies suddenly and
the surviving parent must manage his own grief while continuing to perform his
ongoing role solo? What happens psychically to a child in this situation? How can
a newly single parent handle a confused, bereaved child when his own heart, like
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hers, is torn by grief? By adulthood, most people have developed viable strategies
for self-protection at times of loss. Not so children.
Addressed by many eminent writers in the mental health professions over the
decades (inter alia, Wolfenstein 1966, 1969, 1973; Spitz 1998), this theme ani-
mates a 1996 film by Jacques Doillon, the French artist and director. Ponette
teaches in ways that differ from psychological case studies and theoretical treatises.
Written and directed by an auteur who was born in Paris during the Second World
War, it won the New York Film Critics Circle Award for the Best Foreign Film of its
year, and it stars a prodigious 4-year-old child actress, Victoire Thivisol, who was
selected as the youngest winner of the Volpi Cup Best Actress Award at the Venice
Film Festival. Ponette recounts the story of a small girl who loses her mother in a car
accident. Its luminous perspectives on childhood mourning demonstrate the value of
studying works of art for their psychological insight. Doillon’s masterful portrayal of
suffering and resiliency in the face of devastating loss also foregrounds parenting
issues that surround bereavement when one of the survivors is a child. His imagery
offers countless opportunities to reflect on child well-being in this context.
Briefly, the story begins with the image of a little girl, Ponette, whose left arm is
set in a cast. Her father is taking her by car to visit an aunt and cousins in the
country. It is clear that the aunt is her father’s sister Claire. We learn, bit by bit, that
the child has been in an automobile accident. On the present car trip with her father,
Ponette finds out that her mother, who had been driving on the day her arm was
injured, was herself gravely injured and has not recovered. Ponette’s father tells her
this, and then, arranging for her to stay with her aunt and cousins in the country,
he leaves her to go back to Lyon to work (and, presumably, to mourn alone). Thus,
the child is now deprived of both parents. We are given a glimpse, in a brief but
significant scene, of the mother’s funeral, where Ponette is urged repeatedly by one
of her cousins to cast her favorite doll Yoyotte into the coffin with her mother.
With bated breath we watch her as she waveringly, agonizingly refuses to do so:
how can she part also with this not-me object (Winnicott 1953), which condenses so
much of what she has already lost?
We shadow Ponette at her aunt’s home with her two young cousins. Finally, we
see her at her cousins’ school among other children. Her father returns several times
for visits. During this period, Ponette shows that she can, on one level, understand
and say the words that mean her mother is dead (“Maman est morte”) but, on
another level, she does not understand them at all. She is unable to accept
the emotional reality of her extreme deprivation, and she believes the loss can
be reversed and magically undone. In her efforts to retrieve her absent mother,
she demonstrates a young child’s powerful fantasy life under duress, particularly
under circumstances of catastrophic loss.
Jacques Doillon offers such an exquisitely realized vision on screen that we are
allowed to observe minute details, such as the inventions concocted by its 4-year-
old protagonist in order to enact her split consciousness of death. The medium of
film portrays in wrenching imagery her heroic attempts to lure and summon back
a lost parent from the grave. At one point, Ponette playacts the accident uncon-
sciously with her rag doll in a brief but stunning vignette during which she and the
doll enact multiple roles until the trauma is reversed and undone. A camera follows
her young father as he likewise deals, first ineptly and then gradually more
knowingly, with his daughter in the wake of his own trouble. We observe him
holding fast to their shattered life trying not to abandon his daughter emotionally.
He gives her his watch to keep when he goes off to Lyon, an unspoken symbol of his
beating heart.
Through its delicately wrought scenes and its use of piano and violin music, the
film reveals a complex process involving both fragmentary testing of reality as well
as fleeing from reality and withdrawal from the world. Ponette tries out various
magical and religious strategies. She makes gifts and offerings and endures fruitless
periods of solitary waiting, incantations, trials, and prayers. She shares her hopes
with her cousins and the other children in her orbit but soon learns to keep her
deepest feelings secret from them so as to protect herself when they, also frightened
by the death of a mother, make fun of her and torment her even as they pity her. She
proves able to relate both well and poorly to her surviving parent. She suffers
various minor physical ailments that stand in symbolically for mental ones. She
experiences abject human helplessness.
Constraints of space prevent our moving step by step through the film’s remark-
able narration, but we may linger on one or two essential scenes. It is crucial to
point out that, despite a temporary role reversal forced on the child by her initially
shaken parent who asks her (sic) whether she thinks he can take care of her, and
despite the ongoing incongruity between their mental states and the occasional
severity of her father’s tone and language, the small girl and her youthful
papa betray a mutual love that triumphs over all their transient negativity. Partly,
as Doillon’s imagery makes clear, the reason Ponette’s father does not for most of
the duration understand what his child is feeling is that he cannot afford emotionally
to do so. This is an important point and one readily comprehensible to us
the moment we make the effort to experience the situation from his viewpoint.
Precisely because, as audience, we are situated outside (even though we are,
of course, also very much drawn in), we can, as it were, grasp and sympathize
with a variety of viewpoints and emotional possibilities and not be caught in a parti
pris, hence another feature of this medium as a vehicle for learning in the psycho-
logical arena.
After Ponette’s father leaves her at her aunt’s, he returns a second time from his
work in Lyon. He is recalled to visit her at her aunt’s in the country because her
behavior has become worrisome. She is spending much of her time alone with her
doll Yoyotte; she waits for her mother daily for hours on a hillside, and she refuses
to join in the cousins’ games. Most of the remaining scenes after this visit take
place in a Catholic boarding school to which Ponette is sent with her cousins and
a group of other young children. Here, as previously, Ponette tries repeatedly to
find some way to reconnect with her mother. As background for her efforts, we are
shown, in a series of scenes replete with empathy, pathos, and humor, all the
confusions of young children over a variety of momentous themes: religion,
sexuality, and divorce, as well as death. In preparation for filming their colloquies,
Doillon traveled throughout France, listened to children in diverse milieus, and
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recorded their impromptu conversations. Ponette, believing unshakeably in her

power to alter her unwelcome reality as the child of a dead mother, bypasses no
chance to resurrect her. The other children, both comprehending and not
comprehending, seek to abet, assist, and thwart her. At one point, as a “test” of
her worthiness, they lead her to a foul-smelling covered garbage can in the woods,
order her to climb into it, and leave her there piteously crying, an act that eerily
replicates the sealing up of her mother in the tomb. Eventually, they rescue her and
tell her she passed the test. We watch as her blotchy tear-soaked face emerges from
the nasty receptacle and wince as its lid descends painfully on her hand while she
climbs out.
Finally, a pivotal moment comes on the playground when a blond boy named
Antoine enters with a toy gun. In this scene, a key fantasy about the fatal accident is
enacted. Up to this point, Ponette has experienced the entire gamut of emotions
concerning the loss of a loved one, but with the single exception of anger. “Who
wants to kill me?” Antoine challenges the other children, as he brandishes his
weapon. He goes up to Ponette and offers it to her. “You can kill me,” he dares her.
She draws back: “I don’t want to,” she murmurs.
But Antoine pressures her until, reluctantly, she takes the gun from him and
complies: “I’ll shoot you in the head,” she says and pretends to do so. Antoine cries
out in make-believe agony, falls to the ground, and then lies there on his back inert.
Ponette steps on him at that point and then runs off with his gun. Antoine, furious at
her now for having exceeded the terms of his offer and for extending the game he
had proposed, gets up, chases her, and tries to wrest the gun out of her hands.
Ponette holds on fiercely and will not let go of the toy weapon. Exasperated,
Antoine tells her that she cannot kill anyone else with it because it is his gun.
Then, when she continues to refuse to give it up, he hits her, and they scuffle with
one another on the cold playground. At this point, Antoine, in rage and frustration,
pronounces in a loud voice some terrible words – words that articulate the most
deeply buried level of the little girl’s fantasy:
“You killed your mother!” he accuses. Relentlessly, he continues: “She died
because you were mean. When someone’s mommy dies, it is because they were
mean. My mommy isn’t dead because I am not mean.”
Shocked and terrorized by these damning sentences, Ponette cannot maintain
herself intact. She breaks down. With tears smarting in her eyes, she stands alone on
the playground. The image is devastating: “If my mommy were here,” she sobs,
“You never would have said that.”
Shortly afterward, she tells her cousin Matthias that she wants to die.
In pondering this exchange, we may want to try to understand the meaning of the
gun and of the “killing” to Ponette. Up to this time, she has expressed sorrow, grief,
longing, determination and resourcefulness, but never aggression. And yet, there is
anger when a parent dies. There is anger even when it is kept out of conscious
awareness. Anger, because the child, endowing the parent with superhuman
powers, may fantasize that if the parent vanishes, that must surely happen because
the parent chose it to be so. Doillon shows us how anger, at the beginning, even
takes possession of Ponette’s father. Fantasizing irrationally that the doomed car
was entirely under his wife’s control during the accident and the outcome entirely in
her power, he asks bitterly why his wife died in the car crash: “What was she
thinking of?” he demands.
Ponette, having been given a gun and asked to perform the act of “shooting”
another child, gains, in so doing, the unexpected power to experience a certain kind
of relief. In the exchange with Antoine, she is reluctant at first, but at last she is able
to express her own latent aggression at the death of her mother and also the
previously unfelt pleasure of turning passive into active. When the opportunity
initially presents itself to her, she declines because it is too scary and because she is
not aggressive by nature. But then, after acquiescing, she becomes, suddenly, in this
new game – not of her making – a perpetrator instead of a victim. And she holds on
to the gun for such a long time because, tasting power after so much helplessness,
she does not want to give up the sensation it magically affords her. Death is under
her control now.
As always, however, the price for aggression is dear. The price here is
catastrophic. Ponette’s response to hearing that she is her mother’s killer is to
retreat into total passivity and to wish to die. Of course, this wish too is complex
and overdetermined, because to die would be a way both to rejoin her mother and to
identify with her. When in the scene that follows, Ponette’s cousin Matthias (who
was not present on the playground) gets it out of her that it was Antoine who upset
her so much, he suggests that, instead of Ponette killing herself or Matthias killing
her (which Ponette proposes), they should both seek out and kill Antoine! Thus, we
witness the proliferation of aggression in the wake of loss: the primitive solution of
“kicking someone else,” of passing on one’s suffering to another person or persons –
wanton violence as an antidote for the unbearable passivity of grief.
Now, at the end of this extraordinary film, after trying in every way she can to
reestablish her connection with her lost mother, including the performance of
aggression and the expression of a wish to die, Ponette is seen trudging along
a country road with her backpack heading toward the cemetery. Followed at
a distance by the camera, only the music of the violin accompanies her. We see
her from the back, climbing a hillock. Her stocky childish figure on its sturdy legs
shod in thick shoes approaches her mother’s grave. Ponette lowers herself and sits
down on the ground with her head resting against the gravestone. The earth beneath
her smells rich and moist (we can tell); no grass has yet begun to sprout over the
freshly dug plot. All is silent. The cast on her arm has turned scruffy. Bending over
the dirt now – at first slowly but then faster and more frantically – Ponette begins to
rake the soil with her fingers, pulling the dark earth toward her in desperate
rhythmic gestures as if trying to dig down under it to what lies beneath.
“Maman!” she cries out, “Je suis là” (“Mama, I am here.”), until, brokenhearted,
she lies exhausted on her tummy on the gravesite.
Suddenly, a figure appears, a lively, graceful, and spirited woman dressed
warmly in a winter coat and scarf. Smiling at Ponette, she asks: “Do I smell like
candy?” This apparition takes Ponette by the hand and kisses her; they walk briskly
together. Her mother tells her a little about how the accident occurred but in
a way that resonates with a child’s fantasies and needs: “When I realized I was
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dying I let go,” she says, “I didn’t think of you. I was mean. But, as I went under,
I heard you calling me.. . . Last night you held me.”
Speechless at first, Ponette gradually begins to respond with incredulity, then
wonder, and then utter joy. They run and laugh holding hands. “Tomorrow papa
will take you and you’ll laugh all day,” her mother says. And then she adds:
“Nobody likes a neglectful child. What is a neglectful child?” to which Ponette
answers, “A child who forgets to laugh?” And, her mother asks jauntily, “Why are
you alive?” Then she answers her own question: “To try everything!” She goes on:
“Try everything, and then you can die.” And later, “Happy spirits like your mother
never die.”
Ponette, seeking maternal comfort as well as playfulness, complains she is cold.
The apparition immediately gives her a red sweater. Her lip beginning to tremble,
Ponette asks whether she will stay, but the apparition answers sternly: “You know
that I am dead. My head hit the steering wheel. Everything was broken.” Now,
Ponette begins to fight back her tears. Again, the apparition reminds her of her
father: “Go and be happy with him. I am sad when you are not happy with him.
Don’t forget I love you.” With this, she explains that she must leave and refuses
Ponette’s pleas to hide and stay. She tells Ponette to turn around now and go to greet
her Papa. But the little girl, trying to be brave, cannot refrain from asking just one
more time: “Do you love me for real?”
“Oh, yes!” the apparition answers passionately, standing in silhouette on the path
with the wind blowing in her hair and in her scarf: “Go find Papa.” Ponette turns
back, takes a few steps away, and then, like Orpheus, cannot help turning her head
around. But, this time, all is emptiness.
Suddenly, a car appears, and her father is kneeling on the path beside her asking
what she is doing. She tells him that her mother has come back and has talked to her
and that she wasn’t scared and that she gave her a red sweater. This time, in an
exquisite moment of brilliantly empathic parenting, her father valorizes her fantasy:
“She was right to,” he says. Ponette tells him, “But she is never coming back.”
“Well,” he replies, philosophically, “she can’t keep making these round trips.”
Holding Ponette’s hand, he walks with her as, with her eyes shining, she utters the
final words of the film: “She told me to learn to be happy.”
Thus, we glimpse how a work of art depicts a child’s mourning and fantasy life.
By studying it in detail, we see as under a microscope the difficulties and complex-
ities of parent-child relations at such a time. We are able, by the end, to observe the
gradual transfer of trust, love, and dependency from a deceased to a surviving
parent, so that the child, believing in the living parent, need not consume so much
mental energy trying in vain to hold desperately to images of the one who has died.
We witness also an illustration of the notion that, at the end of a successful
mourning process, what must occur is the partial severing of memory from hope.
The child, in other words, has become able to live and to go forward with loving
recollections of her lost parent but without the burdensome need to conjure her back
and without the corresponding withdrawal from the world that such a project
requires. These goals, of course, are never fully realized, either in this film or in
any child’s real life. But, here, in art, we see, feel, and imagine them.
As a final note, the cast on Ponette’s arm is never removed throughout the film.
This directorial choice gives us clues as to the duration of time meant to be
represented, for the cast on the broken arm of a 4-year-old would not remain in
place more than 3–4 months, a period far too short for all that we have witnessed,
were it to have occurred in real time. Thus, it is critical to be aware that, in dealing
with works of art, we must always allow for the encapsulation and abridgement of
time. Instead of the traditional epigram, “ars longa, vita brevis” (“art is long, and
time is fleeting,” initially written by Hippocrates, in ancient Greece), we must,
when we are dealing with the psychological processes of childhood and their
transformations in art, emend that saying and substitute its corollary, namely,
“vita longa, ars brevis” (“life is long, but works of art are brief”).
35.5 Images of Child Well-Being in Theater, Fiction, and Film
The following paragraphs sketch out representations of childhood in several other

works of art in different media. These sketches are meant as a spur to further
exploration.
The African-American writer Lorraine Hansberry lived only to the age of 34,
when cancer tragically deprived the world of her remarkable gifts. She will never be
forgotten, however, because, when she was 28 years old, in 1958, she wrote
a brilliant play that became the first by a woman of color to be produced on
Broadway. This masterpiece, A Raisin in the Sun (1959), has been continuously
revived for well over a half century and made into at least three film versions (1961,
1989, 2008). It deals, beyond its sociopolitical themes, with the nuanced ways in
which three generations within a family interact among themselves in a setting
awash with American racism and potential violence. This now classic drama, A
Raisin in the Sun, paints an absorbing portrait of adult children (and of one little boy
called Travis) who long for what their surviving parent can neither comprehend nor
give to them, for she, a strong widow, is caught in the coils of her own history,
having been displaced from the South to Chicago in hopes of finding a better life
there but then losing her beloved husband. Hansberry, through her stunning ability
to imagine the most intense scenic configurations and trenchant, often witty as well
as heartbreaking dialogues, introduces us to the Younger family: Mama (Lena
Younger), her grown children Beneatha and Walter Lee, Walter Lee’s pregnant
wife Ruth, and their little boy Travis. All of these richly conceived characters find
themselves at cross-purposes throughout the story, not only on account of their
personalities and predilections, but also as a result of external social forces that
propel them in dramatically different directions. Love among them never fails, but
sympathy and identification wax and wane across the divides of gender and
generation. We are made to wonder whether parental love must inevitably feel
coercive. As we watch and the plot unfolds onstage, this gripping and – in the end
unresolved – play makes us ask ourselves what children really mean when they say
the often hurtful and accusatory words: “You don’t understand.” These are words
often spoken to parents but also to spouses, and Hansberry inserts them in a gamut
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of scenes that explore their varied meanings and outcomes. Even well-loved
children want and need also to be “understood,” but, as we learn here
from Hansberry, parents – even with all the will in the world – may be trapped
in their own historical moment and thus be able only partially to transition to
their children’s new universes, with their new ways of speaking, of thinking, and
of living.
The Nobel Prize winning novelist Doris Lessing (1988) uses her considerable
literary gifts to ask us to consider what happens when a child is born who seems to
be an alien and a misfit and when all attempts to love him fail. Her eerie and
unsettling 1988 novel, The Fifth Child, explores how the birth of a strangely silent
and aggressive troll-like child called Ben alters the dynamics of his immediate and
extended family. Lessing challenges our myths about the sanctity of childbirth; she
traces parental attitudes, cultural imagery, and persistent ideals that cast long
shadows that shape the destiny of families. Her novel asks us to consider the
well-being of children who seem to fail their parents’ and society’s expectations:
how shall we accommodate and nurture them when to do so will necessarily harm
other children who also need our care?
Mothers and daughters rarely experience a savage rupture in their often close-
knit dyad at puberty; in most cases, the gradual process of necessary psychic
separation is muted and contained; in some cases, it is barely felt at all. However,
in the 1985 novel, Annie John, by celebrated writer Jamaica Kincaid, we are given
the opportunity to look with fascination as every layer of defense that masks this
process is mercilessly peeled away. Mother and daughter, so intimate and loving at
first, become radically alienated and mutually distrustful though pages of vibrant,
glowing imagery that illuminate a coming of age story on the lush Caribbean island
of Antigua. Step by step, we witness the slow death of a girl’s idyllic childhood.
Twinned at first with her stately, admirable mother, we see this child emerge finally
as a wary and ambivalent young woman. We learn how what cannot be directly
expressed between parent and child may assume strange new forms in visions,
dreams, and in transitory liaisons with others as well as in physical symptoms and
withdrawal into illness and depression. Watching through the child’s eyes and
hearing her voice in our ears as she catapults from attachment to estrangement
from her mother, we marvel at Kincaid’s unsparing revelation of the fierceness of
this couple’s struggles through falsehood and betrayal toward a mutual goal of
uneasy separation. Vivid recurrent metaphors involving water and hands and
marbles and a snake in a basket encode sequences in their intricate dance: one
sensitive child tangling with her formidable parent. Kincaid’s novel raises questions
about the well-being of preadolescent and adolescent girls as they work
through their conflicting desires to stay faithful to their mothers while establishing
themselves in their own right.
Gender roles constitute the bedrock of societal and linguistic distinctions, right
up there with day and night, alive and dead, water and dry land, edible and inedible.
They are, in most cultures, not to be tampered with. Yet, buried deep within the
psyche, there may be wishes – rarely acted upon except in accepted countercultural
venues such as carnival, comedy, masquerade, festival, circus, or theater – to
explore and even be the gender one is not. Children are socialized slowly, however,
and occasionally the strength of their cross-gender wishes bumps up against an
unyielding, uncomprehending milieu. Ma Vie en Rose, a beautifully realized 1997
film by Alain Berliner, portrays a 7-year-old French boy, Ludovic, who believes he
is a girl. His belief causes ever-widening ripples that, little by little, engulf his
bewildered family, his neighborhood, and his school. No one around him can
fathom the cause of his perseverating feminine identification, even a psychologist
who is engaged to treat him, but we are taken inside his vivid rose-colored
daydreams and witness his brave attempts to evade the role assigned him by
the social order. Image after image draws us close, and we experience firsthand
the potency of a child’s desire, its stamina, its defiance, and its challenge to the
demands of a world outside. As we watch, we can question how well or poorly we
adults function to assure the well-being of children whose dreams do not match
those of the surrounding community.
Conflict between duty to one’s country and duty to one’s family may arise in
both a child’s and a parent’s life. Jean-Paul Sartre speaks of the human condition as
entailing what he calls “the condemnation to be free,” and he gives his famous
example of a young man who asks whether he should join the French Resistance
during World War II or stay at home with his ailing mother. Likewise, how do
parents’ moral choices impact their children’s lives? A World Apart, an award-
winning 1988 film by Shawn Slovo, daughter of the murdered South African
journalist Ruth First and her activist husband Joe Slovo, both of whom fought
bravely for years against apartheid, is a fictionalized account of the filmmaker and
her mother. Shawn Slovo, called “Molly” in the film, is the eldest of the three
daughters. Entering adolescence, she craves attention from her mother at this
crucial time of her life when her body, her interests, and her emotions are all
undergoing change. Molly, in order to be protected in case of a raid, cannot be
told anything significant about what is going on, and, consequently, she cannot
fathom her parents’ unavailability, which seems neglectful and cruel to her.
Her father, at the start of the story, has been threatened and must disappear
“underground,” never to be seen again for the remainder of the film, and no one
in the family is permitted to express anxiety over his unknown whereabouts.
Molly’s mother, suddenly and cruelly, is removed from the family as well by
the South African Special Branch police, who take her to jail under the notorious
90-day detention act. In jail, she is at one point derided with being a bad mother.
Thus, the children are temporarily orphaned. Their parents, struggling to create
a better environment for them to grow up in, abandon them in the short run, as it
seems through the eyes of their adolescent daughter, whose perspective mirrors
that of the now adult filmmaker and becomes ours too, as we watch. Unfolding
against that brutal, violent epoch in South African history when the Bantu people
were segregated, disenfranchised, and murdered, this film details the plights of
three mothers and daughters in that fractured chaotic time. Once again, we have
here an example of a work of art that opens upon horizons which bear importantly,
and in a timely manner, on the theme of child well-being in a world of political
upheaval.
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Parents and children often keep secrets from one another. Toxic secrecy and its
fallout form the theme of Mendel (1997), a film by Alexander Rosler, set in Norway
after World War II. In this story, the parents of a little boy called Mendel cannot talk
with him about the events of the Holocaust that occurred just before his birth and
during his infancy when the family was incarcerated in a concentration camp in
Germany. They cannot tell him about the atrocities and family losses, not only
because they wish to protect him but also because they themselves have been so
traumatized that near-total avoidance is all they can manage. When, however, do
concealments become dangerous for children, and why and how do children intuit
them anyway and try to cope with them? Rosler’s film traces the far-reaching
effects of family secrets. If a child defies his parents, breaks rules, and puts himself
into situations of danger in order to find out what happened in the past, must we not
ask ourselves whether protecting him from that past – no matter how horrifying it
was – may turn out to be more destructive than revealing it to him in some way?
Parents who have endured trauma themselves, however, may be incapable of doing
so, and this is not a factor that can be willed away. In this circumstance, as we see
while watching the imagery of this film – which includes a scene in which Mendel,
who, in abject ignorance, taunts his older brother about the war and is then
subjected by his brother to a terrifying moment of torture (held outside an open
window by the legs) – aggression may be replicated and spread in the wake of
silence and terrified concealment.
35.6 Defamiliarization as a Tool for Study
Aristotle, in his Poetics, speaks of the catharsis of pity and fear. In reflecting on the
foregoing chapter in this light, it may be well to suggest that, if we confront
circumstances of birth and death and life in between with all the emotions that
surround them in their representations in the arts and literature, as the ancient
philosopher counsels us, we may find ourselves better equipped to grapple more
wisely and gracefully with eruptions in our real lives, and vice versa, for we bring
ourselves and our histories with us whenever we visit works of art. A special tool to
work with when we consider the arts in this context may be borrowed from the
Russian literary theorist Viktor Shklovskij (1925/1990), namely, his notion of
defamiliarization. This term refers to the idea that the arts often render ordinary
life more intense than otherwise and transform the usual into the exceptional. By
means of exaggeration and recontextualization, the arts often highlight and estrange
human acts, events, and settings. Showing them to us in zoom or in panorama, at
oblique angles, or from other perspectives unavailable to us during our normal
lives, they disorient us enough to make us pay attention. Lifting us out of our
perceptual lethargy, the arts refuse to let us blink.
Astonished, delighted, or dismayed, we find ourselves arrested by what we had
previously taken for granted or failed to notice altogether. Precariously balanced,
like a child on tiptoe, we stand amazed as newly apparent truths dangle before our
eyes, spin, and flip over so as to bare aspects previously concealed. By means
of defamiliarization, art not only redirects our gaze; it engages us with our spines
(as Vladimir Nabokov once put it) and invites us to take in what daily life rarely
grants. Art helps us to expand our notions of child well-being by asking us to
wonder, as we did when we were children, and to reimagine what could be if only.
In this, our own twenty-first century moment, when the possibilities for destruction
of life are greater than ever before, the arts remind us of our potential and of our
children’s even greater potential, to create and to preserve.
35.7 Note
Sections 35.3–35.6 of the foregoing chapter draw upon Spitz (2011).
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Role of Art and Creativity in Child Culture
and Socialization 36
Khin Yee Lo and Koji Matsunobu
The role of the arts has been recognized to be essential in helping to foster
children’s well-being. Symbolic self-expression through the arts allows children
to express complex feelings and hybrid identities. It supports validating individual
and collective identities. It not only empowers children but also helps to improve
their health and well-being. Literature on art and music therapy reports that song-
writing and music-listening activities contribute to children’s physiological and
psychological well-being (Longhi and Pickett 2008). The arts have powerful
bonding qualities and rich potential for group cohesion. Drawing on the socializing
and integrative functions of the arts, social workers have researched on the various
social impacts that the arts can have, such as on employment, crime rates, self-
esteem, educational performance and participation, and social inclusion (Lyons
2001; Barraket 2005; Mazza 2009). Engaging in artistic activities in a community
context reduces many of the factors of social exclusion through creative and
participatory processes. With its performative forms, the arts also help children to
understand essential knowledge about life. For example, Haner, Pepler, Cummings,
and Rubin-Vaughan (2010) report that designing a children’s opera about bullying
helped children to gain mastery of bullying knowledge and contributed to
a significant decline in self-reported victimization. Engaging in the arts cultivates
students’ imagination and allows them to see the world from others’ perspectives
(Greene 1995). For this reason, the arts have been used by social workers, thera-
pists, and educators for its socializing, healing, and spiritual values. Yet, how it
happens and how it influences children is largely unknown.
K.Y. Lo (*)
Griffith University, Brisbane, Queensland, Australia
K. Matsunobu
School of Music, University of Queensland, St. Lucia, QLD, Australia

1054 K.Y. Lo and K. Matsunobu
In education literature, the discussion of children’s well-being in relation to the

arts is often placed on the opposite end of the continuum of schooling and academic
achievement, creating an “either/or” debate (Brunker 2007; Durlak et al. 2011).
Engaging in artistic activities is often viewed as having a direct link with children’s
well-being. A typical image of the arts shared by the general public is that its pursuit
is self-directed, joyous, fulfilling, irrelevant to academic achievement, and thus
excluded from schooling. Within the art domains, well-being is often discussed as
a matter of community engagements and individual leisure activities rather than
a matter of schooling. Educational research, albeit implicitly, indicates that not all
participatory activities of the arts naturally lead to fostering children’s well-being.
Learning that is consistently prescriptive or definitive, with priorities focused on the
curriculum rather than on the learner, can be antithetical to the spirit of creative play
of the arts.
Another commonly held assumption about the arts is that artistic processes are
creative, and creativity is directly linked to well-being. Creativity here needs to be
understood broadly beyond the traditional view of creativity as “product” creativity
(Weiner 2000) to include the creativity of inner experience (Matsunobu 2011). For
children and youth, satisfaction can arise from a variety of sources. It may be gained
through repetitive movements rather than a series of new stimuli (Matsunobu
2007b). For some, the latter may generate anxiety, whereas the former may lead
to a sense of continuation within an experience. Indeed, this has been experienced
by adults seeking ethereal, hypnotic feeling; for instance, those who love trance
dance, Zen arts, and meditation music, including minimalist, electronic music
characterized by repetitive patterns of melody and rhythm.
Csikszentmihalyi (1997) contends that creativity leads to individual well-being
and happiness. Experience of the arts can be a flow experience. Flow is a highly
focused state of consciousness in which the individual is effortlessly involved in the
action. In general, the more one’s daily life is filled with flow activities, the more
likely one is to be happy. However, he observes that the connection between flow
and happiness depends on “whether the flow-producing activity is complex,
whether it leads to new challenges and hence to personal and cultural growth”
(p. 11). The arts often provide a platform for such experiences. In contrast, instant
pleasure gained from such activities as gambling and drugs does not add up to
a sense of satisfaction or happiness over time. “Pleasure does not lead to creativity,
but soon turns into addiction” (p. 11). It is suggested here that the level of children’s
well-being through the arts is influenced not only by what they do but also how they
do: the level of their involvement in the activities.
Children’s culture is multifarious and pluralistic, displaying layers of subcul-
tures, meanings, and adult influences, extending from infancy through pubescence.
It is far too complex to pin down and define it as a single culture. To avoid
simplification, the following literature review examines extensive sources on the
role of art and creativity in child culture and socialization. Much of the literature is
written by arts educators, therapists, and scholars in psychology and sociology.
Each of these disciplines adopts a standpoint to discuss children’s well-being and
happiness, sometimes at variance with each other. In order to provide a basis for
36 Role of Art and Creativity in Child Culture and Socialization 1055
discussion, we first offer an overview of child well-being and the arts in the Western
history. Then, the themes of our focus include the arts and play in child culture.
Finally, we present literature to highlight the spiritual benefits of the arts. The
conclusion of this chapter enumerates the key points from research findings, offers
a critique of some current views of children and the arts, reveals gaps in existing
literature, and outlines suggestions for future research directions for child
well-being in the arts from a holistic perspective.
36.1 The Changing Views of Childhood and the Arts
Historically, adults’ image of children has been pliable and varied (Koops and
Zuckerman 2003). While differing views regarding children and childhood have
persisted through the centuries, many of the early views positioned children at the
margins of the society. A dominant Western perspective depicted children as imma-
ture adults, without their own culture. Being thought of as developmentally inadequate
in multiple ways and incapable of making informed decisions, children came to be
seen as needing adults to take charge of them, to rule them (Jenks 2005; Branscombe
et al. 2000). Additionally, there has been a long-standing zeitgeist, appearing as early
as the writings of Aristotle and perpetuated during the Enlightenment in the seven-
teenth century by theorists including John Locke, that characterized children as “blank
slates,” who lack knowledge, skills, or community-oriented attitudes and who pas-
sively learn by copying adults (Cunningham 2006; Kassem et al. 2010).
Reflecting on these social discourses, artists’ portrayal of children was less
a celebration of childhood with unique life stages than an attempt to show how
children were molded into miniature adults early in life, through a strict upbringing
(Lavalette and Cunningham 2002). A large number of adult portraitures in com-
parison to those focused on children suggest that less interest was shown toward
children in terms of who they were than who they would become (Ariès 1962;
Heywood 2001; Koops and Zuckerman 2003; Cunningham 2006; Corsaro 2011).
Paintings generally presented children in an unchildlike manner – dressed in the
same style of clothes as adults, holding stiff, upright postures with sober facial
expression, and giving an air of dignity and self-assurance (Connolly et al. 2006).
Ariès’ work (1962), in particular, analyzed European paintings and portraitures as
reflecting a continual shift in perspective on children – from the emergence of child
portraiture on existing models rather than imaginary, idealized symbols, the focus
on children in family portraitures, to the change in children’s attire from exact
copies of adults’ clothes to those unique to children.
Building on the ideas set forth by John Locke and other Enlightenment thinkers,
Jean Jacques Rousseau is widely acknowledged for creating the modern notion of
childhood, which emphasizes the innate goodness of the child. In some cultures,
this reconstruction of the child’s image partly gave rise to the separation of
childhood and adulthood which, in turn, had a positive impact on enhancing the
status, and hence treatment, of children in contemporary society (Jenks 2005). In
his great revolutionary novel, E´mile (1762/1979), Rousseau posited that true
education is not so much about imparting knowledge to children, but more about
drawing knowledge from their own lived experiences. His view accentuates the
importance of nurturing children’s native abilities without letting them be stifled by
social conditions. In his words,
In general, little more is thought of in the education of a child than to preserve his being:
this is not enough: he ought to learn how to preserve himself when he is grown up to
manhood; to support the shocks of fortune, to bear riches or poverty; and to live. . .. To live
is not merely to breathe; it is to act, to make a proper use of our organs, our senses, our
faculties, and of all those parts of the human frame which contribute to the consciousness of
our existence. The man who has lived most, is not he who hath survived the greatest number
of years, but he who has experienced most of life.
(Rousseau, quoted in Ulich 1982, pp. 387–388)
The idea of learning and expressing through the senses, as described above, is no
doubt progressive for its time, turned against the traditional ideals where factual,
rote learning preceded over experiential learning. For Rousseau, music and the arts
form an important element in the education and well-being of the child, for artistic
activities help them to explore the full range of human emotions and expression. He
saw drawing as a means through which children, who he viewed as naturally
creative and imaginative, draw what they see and make sense of the world around
them. He went so far as to lay out the whole content of the child’s music education,
presented according to appropriate developmental stages (Rainbow 1967). This
child-centered, multisensory pedagogy, exemplified by Rousseau, had a profound
influence on the educational practice of the next 200 years, culminating in the
works of educational thinkers such as Johann Pestalozzi and Friedrich Froebel, and
later, progressive educators like Maria Montessori and John Dewey.
Notwithstanding the popularity of the child-centered theme during the nineteenth
century in favor of the cultivation of the innate creative abilities and personal interests
of the child, this view was largely confined to the privileged new middle and
aristocratic upper classes. In harsh reality, the majority of the children’s lives through-
out Western Europe were beset by widespread poverty, hard labor, exploitation, and
neglect. The conflict between opposing forces of good and evil – the Romantic ideal of
childhood innocence and the unforgiving day-to-day struggle of children associated
with Puritan “child depravity” views – was featured prominently in the writing about
childhood for much of the nineteenth century and into the twentieth century (Kassem
et al. 2010). As an example, this contradiction was constantly brought to the fore in
Charles Dickens’ works such as Oliver Twist, in which he described the brutality of
child labor in the streets of London (Malkovich 2012).
It was in the progressive era, emerging in the 1920s and possessing a powerful
drive throughout the 1960s, that children were released from the narrow vision of
childhood. The innate creativity as well as personal experiences and desires of the
child were finally acknowledged and promoted in public spheres. John Dewey
articulated in his early work the need for the scientific method in education,
effectively calling for reflective intelligence in the process of learning. This method
encouraged students to solve problems in original ways, inquire and question
knowledge claims that have not been personally tested, and actively construct
their own knowledge (Miller 1996). Although Dewey’s focus seems to have shifted
in his later works, many progressive educators continued to emphasize the exis-
tence of autonomous self, the child’s natural “self-expression,” and the so-called
“child-centered” approach, the values of which supported personal learning and
spontaneity with minimal intervention. The role of the adult was to release the
child’s inherent creativity through acts of self-discovery and self-expression. Abbs
(2003) observes that the arts became a medium by which children expressed their
desires, interests, and inner realities, to the extent that it also promoted the vision of
arts education as self-expression and self-discovery rather than understanding and
exploring the processes and products of the arts. This point of demarcation was
prevalent in the aesthetic theory of the time. For example, Herbert Read (1967, in
Abbs 2003) puts forth his argument that children should be discouraged from
engaging in painting or drawing as an aesthetic discipline:
But in so far as by appreciation we mean a response to other people’s modes of expression,
then the faculty is likely to develop only as one aspect of social adaptation, and cannot be
expected to show itself much before the age of adolescence. Until then the real problem is
to preserve the original intensity of the child’s reactions to the sensuous qualities of
experience - to colours, surfaces, shapes and rhythms. These are apt to be so infallibly
‘right’ that the teacher can only stand over them in a kind of protective awe.
(via Abbs 2003)
While acknowledging the innate creativity, motivations, and abilities of children

to express themselves, many still held the view that adults were guardians of
children’s vision and any participation in the arts was perceived to be potentially
harmful.
The thrust of the progressive and modern paradigm and the promotion of general
creativity were derived from psychology and, to a lesser extent, sociology. The latter
emerged largely through the work of the Reggio Emilia movement in Italy and the
“new sociology of childhood” approach (James and Prout 1990; in Corsaro 1997). The
image of the child is that of a capable and competent agent who appropriates and
reproduces aspects of their culture through interaction with others (Corsaro 1997). The
approach reconceptualizes childhood as a period of active participation in, and
meaning-making of, new experiences. The child is seen as a perceptive agent
possessing capabilities and competencies to meet new challenges with curiosity and
motivation, not unlike those of older children or adults. In this framework, adults
(including teachers, parents, researchers, carers, and others) are constructed as
colearners who facilitate, negotiate, and challenge through reflection of their own
experiences, attitudes, and practices, and who share power with children (Woodrow
1999).
It is in the last several decades that the value of the arts has been seen to lie,
not in the purview of psychology or sociology, but in the aesthetic embodiment of
meaning and its aesthetic cognition. More and more the arts were recognized as
offering a compelling vehicle for human understanding – cognitive, sensuous,
spiritual, social, cultural, and physical sense-making (Abbs 2003). It was in this
paradigm that the study of childhood and the arts was considered worthy of focal
attention and vital to understanding culture and society. Instead of treating
children’s art as immature expressions, adults today acknowledge it as one genre

of art with its own history and culture, providing myriad ways to be incorporated
into educational activities. Bresler (1998) distinguishes among “child art,” “fine
art,” and “art for children” and describes the manner in which each is
implemented in schools by different agencies such as art specialists, curators,
and classroom teachers in a variety of contexts (see also Bresler 2002a, b).
A parallel shift in perspective is also evident in ethnomusicology and anthropol-
ogy. Until recently, with the rare exceptions, children’s musical expressions have
been excluded from the central concern among researchers in these disciplines.
Campbell (2007) notes the revival of singing games in nineteenth-century England
as well as through Iona and Peter Opie’s work beginning in the 1950s. She observes
that collections of singing games and song texts are filled with indications of
“children’s poetic sensibilities, their playful interactions and social networks, and
their linkages to their community” (p. 884). John Blacking’s (1967) work investi-
gating the songs of Venda children constitutes a seminal contribution to the under-
standing of children’s musical cultures. Identifying Venda children’s songs that
were distinct from the music of the adult Venda, he concludes that Venda children’s
songs are neither simplified versions of adult songs nor a set of fixed repertoire
taught by adults, but the result of constant meaning-making and dynamic interaction
between children’s creativity and adult influences. Music has always played an
important role in the socialization, aesthetic expression, and cultural learning of
children. Reflecting on a body of research following Blacking, Campbell proposes
that “a refocusing of the ethnomusicological lens may allow for children to become
central rather than marginal to understanding musical cultures” (p. 885).
A quick review shows that Western history has witnessed a shift of emphasis in
the discussion of childhood. Children are now considered social actors in forming
their own cultures colored by the arts. A steady growth of attention has been given
to forging a revitalized framework for understanding children in their own right,
recognizing them as individuals with unique lives and artistic engagements that are
worthy of study. Further, scholars are learning that knowledge of children and
youth offers a more integrated view of human life (Schwartzman 2001).
36.2 Play Culture, Child Culture in the Arts
36.2.1 Art as Play
The boundary of play culture is not always clear-cut. Increasingly, it has been seen
by adults as a valuable activity contributing to a more holistic learning environment
for children. Like the concept of childhood, the concept of child culture is not
a natural phenomenon, but socially constructed. These concepts, along with
research on child culture and childhood, have evolved and taken on new meanings
as definitions, points of view, and lifestyles continue to change. The culture of the
child is as old as childhood, yet the former concept did not exist in material form
until recent decades (Holloway and Valentine 2000; Thomas and O’Kane 2000;
Connolly et al. 2006; Sanders 2009). It has been said that child culture, originated as
part of what has been called the educational project with children, was intended to
supplement school education by orienting itself more toward informal contexts
such as leisure and the family with an emphasis on promoting psychological and
moral development of children (Mouritsen 1998). Following the Second World
War, however, the concept of child culture shifted from the perspectives of the adult
to those of the child, favoring the standpoint of reform pedagogy and the arts.
Mouritsen (1998, p. 13) distinguishes between the two contrasting yet interrelated
concepts: child culture and play culture:
While child culture is channelled through formal structures, apparatuses and institutions in
the form of products, specialized and specifically oriented activities and learning processes,
play culture is channelled through informal social networks, through traditional transmis-
sion from child to child (and in some cases from adult to child). It is fundamentally
dependent on the children’s participation and activity and is predicated on their acquisition
of skills in terms of expressive forms, aesthetic techniques, forms of organization, mises-
en-scène and performance.
Mouritsen (1998) further observes, “the angle of approach” or plurality of

viewpoints of child culture has not been well-grounded in the field (p. 22). More
precisely, play – in modern Western society – constitutes an expression of a kind of
activity that is highly differentiated from the real society and has thus become
marginalized (Strandell 2000). In this scenario, adults tend to view children’s play
activities through “the pedagogical lens” (i.e., whether or not such activities carry
educative value) and are inclined to impose their interpretation and understanding
on children and their activities (Mouritsen 1998, p. 23). In fact, much of the
investigation on children’s play and artistic engagement has been conducted by
educators whose primary concern is to identify the kinds of activities that are most
worthwhile for children and meaningful from an educational perspective. Such
attitudes toward children’s play arise from a particular view that
put phenomena and children into fixed categories of meaning: to know what a child is and
what he or she needs, to know what is good and what is bad and to offer explanations for
why things are as they are.
(Strandell 2000, p. 153)
Equipped with pedagogical lenses, arts educators have addressed distinctive

features of formal and informal learning environments, contrasting not only the
learning contents in different localities, but also the ways the subjects are learned
(Green 2001; Veblen and Olsson 2002; Folkestad 2006). For example, music
researchers Lamont, Hargreaves, Marshall, and Tarrant (2003) illustrate the gap
between children’s experiences of school-music activities and music activities
during leisure time. The differences in attitudes, values, and activities between
the two environments have been expressed through such binary forms as teacher-
oriented/self-directed, goal-oriented/flow, individual learning/peer learning, exter-
nal motivation/internal motivation, step-by-step learning/peripheral participation,
and intentional learning/incidental learning (Green 2001; Szego 2002). Folkestad
(2006) points out that in the formal learning setting, attention is given to learning
“how to play music,” whereas in the informal learning practice it is directed

towards playing music itself (p. 138). From a pedagogical stance, socialization is
a form of education. To give an example, Jorgensen (1997) discerns and refines the
concept of education by proposing five subcategories: schooling, training, educa-
tion, socialization, and enculturation.
In contrast, children see their play simply through “the lens of play” (Mouritsen
1998, p. 23), shaped by their views of the action, which is natural and understandable
to them. Play leads to an enjoyable experience, or the moment of “flow,” in which its
characteristics are identical to what humans experience in the arts. Such characteristics
can be described as follows: (a) There is a balance between challenges and skills; (b)
action and awareness are merged; (c) distractions are excluded from consciousness;
(d) there is no fear of failure; (e) self-consciousness disappears; and (f) the activity
becomes an end in itself (Csikszentmihalyi 1997). According to Mouritsen (1998),
child culture manifests itself in three different ways: culture for children, culture with
children, and culture of children. While the first two types involve adult intervention
and control, albeit the first to a greater extent than the second, the third type denotes
the expressions of culture that children produce in their own networks, that is, the
children’s informal culture, or what is known as play culture.
Different gazes between adults and children bring forth different preconcep-
tions, interpretations, senses, perspectives, and (mis)understanding of the same
action. While adults may be willing or reluctant to integrate children’s spontane-
ous play activities into predetermined pedagogical contexts, children’s play
culture is often a form of resistance against adults’ culture (Hanna 1986;
Ronnberg 2005) and their role as agents of pedagogical initiatives (Mouritsen
1998). It is thus important to understand that children’s play is culturally, socially,
and politically constructed.
36.2.2 School Art and Local Art
Child culture is of the children’s own making, but it gets its material from the
culture of the society, which the children encounter in the home, in day care, in the
media, and elsewhere and then create their own culture. To put it another way, child
culture is constantly negotiated between children and adults in schools, homes, and
communities.
Hamblen (2002) outlines the characteristics of school art and local art. The word
“local” here refers to the informal, noninstitutional context of art-making. To
summarize her argument, while children’s art-making in the school is ritualistic
and rule-governed, displaying themes and products that are often predictable, the
artistic strategies and themes of their art-making outside school vary to include, for
instance, cartoon figures, dolls, scatological images, sexual fantasies, violence, and
gross subjects (Duncum 1989; Wilson 2002). Whereas adults tend to emphasize
technical skills and formal qualities of art as learning content in schools, children in
local contexts depend on imitation and copying as a common form of learning.
They readily learn from one another, from the imagery of the popular media.
Comic books provide a rich source of artistic expressions (Wilson 2002). Chil-
dren’s depictions of heroes, monsters, dolls, animals, and so forth are used to create
and tell stories to themselves and to their friends and parents. They draw on scrap
papers, their own bodies, and on walls. On the other hand, copying is usually
discouraged in school contexts. Materials, tools, and techniques that they freely
use at home are often restricted in school art. The classroom artworks produced
must be visually pleasing (and thus acceptable) and easily stored. Hamblen notes,
“In local contexts, children produce art that is personal, autobiographical, and
fanciful, and sometimes socially irreverent” (p. 23). This stands in stark contrast
to school art, Thompson (2007) remarks, that “tends to focus on form and technique
to the virtual exclusion of content meaningful to children; [it] tends to divide
children’s interests into official and unofficial spheres” (p. 904). Hence, local art
expressions and values are often considered inappropriate in school art contexts.
Many educators are cognizant of the gap between school art and local art and the
need to overcome institutional barriers. To cite an example, recognizing children as
skillful, resourceful, and active agents in constructing their own meanings and
culture, Anttila (2007) offers implications of a holistic view of children’s world
that holds potential in bringing about a shift in educational practices. Generally,
play culture is seldom incorporated in formal educational settings (Hirsh-Pasek and
Golinkoff 2008), with the exception of some instances (Lillemyr 2009). By and
large, it is perceived by educators as a series of nonserious, nonstructured activities,
which emerges mostly through unsupervised interaction.
Rather than observing children’s artistic activities outside the institutional con-
texts, educators have explored yet another site where the school culture and play
culture meet – the playground. Marsh (2008) explicates that children’s musical
interactions in the playground encompass many different forms, including singing,
dancing, speech, movement, characterization, and rhythmic elements. These orally
transmitted forms are stimuli drawn from their environment for the purpose of both
emulating them and spontaneously improvising them to create multiple variants of
the things that concern children. Sawyer (1997, 2001) argues that improvisation is
an essential skill for everyday social life. Play is important for children because it
allows them to practice improvisation in conversations with others. Nilsson (2002,
in Olsson 2007) provides further insight on the notion of “invitation” in play games.
Children participate in musical play through acceptance and blocking of invitations
while exchanging a variation of interpretations and actions during play. This
suggests that the arts, like other social activities, can be a site for rejection, breach,
and emotional hurt.
The use of computer technology in educational contexts also serves as a medium
to connecting the school culture and play culture. Computer programs enable
children to engage in hands-on music composition activities at both school and
home. Innovative school-based projects promoting real-life, ubiquitous arts learn-
ing have been among many of the recent developments in educational programs
(Ruthmann and Dillon 2012).
In light of the aforementioned research on child culture and play, it is crucial to
bear in mind that children’s artistic expressions in informal contexts are often
holistic, combining multiple media for their creative expressions, and exceeding the
level of their performances in the school. Young children typically copy sophisti-
cated artistic conventions of cartoon characters (Hamblen 2002; Wilson 2002) and
master complicated rhythmic, melodic, and dancing patterns of singing games
(Harwood 1998a). By the same token, they quickly learn in school contexts how
to produce work that conforms to the expectations of adults as well as of child art
developmental levels (Hamblen 2002). Efforts to connect the two have been
undertaken, not simply to motivate students, but to enrich their artistic engagement
and develop their artistic selves. Among the many hindrances and obstacles are
a lack of awareness of the limited application of school art contents and methods to
local experiences of art and a lack of practice in forming linkages to art-making in
a variety of contexts (Hamblen 2002).
36.2.3 Social and Creative Processes of Play
Because play forms the basis of children’s creativity (Vygotsky 1966, 2004;
Smolucha 1992), art forms integrating play can give children new dimensions in
their ability to create meanings, characters, actions, and emotions in their imagina-
tive worlds. Through the aesthetics of play, children carry out social experimenta-
tion with peers and actively engage in dramatizing real-life situations.
Paradoxically, this process of exaggerating, distorting, and transforming the reality
helps them to gain a deeper insight into their real-life contexts by shifting their
perspectives of the relationship between objects and meanings (Vygotsky 1966,
1971; Smolucha and Smolucha 1986). In her study investigating the relationship
between dance and play of children ages 6–8 years, Lindqvist (2001) observes that
dance linked to children’s play helps them to create “dramatic meaning” in their
dance (p. 51). She supports Vygotsky’s argument that children’s creativity is
spontaneous in nature (syncretistic as he calls it) and does not differentiate between
singing and dancing, playing and acting, or drawing and storytelling. In other
words, children carry out these acts of creativity more or less simultaneously. As
Vygotsky (1995) aptly states, “children’s play is a preliminary step to artistic
creation” (in Lindqvist 2001, p. 42). Rich experiences of artistic play thus become
a vital source of creating new meanings.
Children live in a social world. They learn from other social agents, including
adults and peers. Play involves the transfer of traditions of child culture from older
to younger children. Through play, children become members of a society.
Vygotsky’s concept of zone of proximal development suggests that children are
able to achieve a higher level of internalization of understanding by filling the gap
between the actual developmental level of the child, as determined by independent
problem-solving, and the level of potential development, as determined by prob-
lem-solving under adult guidance or in collaboration with more capable peers
(Vygotsky 1978). For Vygotsky, competence is defined in terms of what children
can do with support as opposed to what they can do on their own. His view
resonates with Keith Sawyer’s (2003, 2007) recent observation that creativity is
invariably collaborative in nature. In a similar vein, the affordance theory under-

scores the mediating role of the arts in relation to social action and experience
(DeNora 2000, 2002), as certain types of artistic media allow for certain types of
actions more easily than others.
Relationships and friendships influence the ways children engage in artistic and
play activities. Children learn to negotiate with others over leadership, control, and
decision-making. Burland and Davidson (2001) observe that the impact of social
support on individual confidence and creativity has been widely noted. In their study,
the authors report that although gender and friendship relationships did not influence
the qualities of children’s musical compositions, it did affect their personal sense of
achievement and enjoyment. This finding concurs with that of Zillman and Gan
(1997) who suggest that music is among the key factors in determining and charac-
terizing friendship between young people by means of inclusion and exclusion.
Christensen and James (2000, p. 169) shed light on this social process:
A sense of sameness is important for children, providing them a feeling of belonging, a way
in which to smooth over the potential which any personal diversity or deviation might have
to rupture the social relations that exist between one child and another.
It is perhaps not surprising that musical taste is strongly related to social class and
group formation. Green (1999) summarizes the findings of research on music and social
grouping of children as follows: Middle-class children are more likely than working-
class children to play an orchestral instrument in schools, pursue music options at
school, choose to study music at university or conservatoire, and respond positively to
the delineations of classical music. While girls are more enthusiastic about singing in
choirs and playing classical music on keyboards, guitars, and orchestral instruments,
boys tend to display more interest in technology and popular music (p. 165). Green
further elaborates that “classical music in schools to a large extent delineates feminin-
ity, and more radically, effeminacy. By the same token, popular music, and practices
such as playing the drums and electric guitar, delineate masculinity, and beyond that,
machismo” (p. 167). Similarly, the Zillman and Gan (1997) study indicates that women
are believed to gain attraction and sophistication by expressing preferences and inter-
ests in classical music, while the same is not the case for men.
Taken together, these studies suggest that music is closely linked to issues of
individual and collective identities: How people see themselves is reflected in how
they approach music. That is to say, music functions both as a way of being and
a catalyst for action. To illustrate this point, DeNora (2003) highlights Willis’s (1978)
compelling ethnographic work documenting a group of bikeboys. The kind of music
these boys preferred was akin to their preferred mode of being: They listened to songs
that were short and fast-paced and characterized by a definite pulse. In their behav-
iors, there was a clear relationship between musical and extramusical phenomena. As
DeNora puts it, “Music ‘is like’. . . some other thing; and, conversely, some other
thing (say conduct style during an evening) is ‘like’ music” (p. 170). Thus, there may
be some truth in the axiom that “the music you listen to is who you are.” It is no
wonder that since the age of Antiquity, music has been thought of as a powerful force
capable of shaping children’s moral character and social behavior.
The role of play in children’s life and socialization varies from one culture to
another. Merrill-Mirsky (1988) analyzes the ways in which school-aged children of
Euro-American, Asian, African American, and Latino backgrounds perform musi-
cal and rhythmic plays. Differences are observed in terms of musical patterns
(melodic, rhythmic), physical movements (gesture, posture), and gender roles in
organizing plays. In another study, Dzansi (2004) describes the participatory,
informal nature of children’s singing, clapping, and dancing games in Ghana. She
draws on the playground pedagogy in which children themselves serve as their own
teachers with a strict sense of good behavior and rules.
Yet it appears that play features prominently in most children’s lives across
different parts of the world (Hyder 2005). Research studies on childhood have
shown that play and the arts have much in common in the way they contribute to the
overall well-being of children (Lark-Horovitz et al. 1973; Hanna 1986; Lindqvist
2001; Bresler and Thompson 2002; Anttila 2007; Marsh 2008). For example,
artistic play serves as a means to gain access to inner resources and enhance
children’s participation in an enculturation process through which they learn
about their cultures and social structures. Dance educator Hanna (1982) argues
that “dance/play is a ‘serious business’ in dramatizing concepts and patterns of and
for social life” (p. 66). Hanna (1987) further posits that dance resembles and
influences patterns of social organizations and interpersonal relationships. In the
context of African societies, Mans (2002, p. 72) writes:
Apart from being used as a means of socializing young persons, music and dance have long
provided the context within which socializing education could take place. Philosophy and
moral systems of the society are built into the music and dance-making itself.
Viewed in this light, artistic play – whether informally passed on from adult to
child or from child to child – not only provides a medium for imparting social
values and morals, it also is an important means for children to relate their inner
selves to the outer world. They create culture together: Through observing the
social phenomena around them, they develop interesting dramas and
conventions for their mutual life, dialogues, and sense of shared interdependence
(Thyssen 2003).
In sum, the play culture of children is a gateway to understanding the multifac-
eted processes of children’s socialization. Scholarly work on children’s play culture
has documented that play, artistic activities, and creativity are phenomena that are
closely intertwined (e.g., Campbell 1991, 1998; Harwood 1993a, 1994b, 1998a, b;
Mans 2002; Marsh 2008). Through musical play, drawing, and dancing, children
learn and master a complex set of artistic and social skills that enable them to affirm
group solidarity and help them to gain acceptance, or even individual popularity,
within social groups. Anthropological work on play, such as the one by Mans (see
also Campbell 2007), suggests that children’s play is seen mostly as a preparation
for adult play (Mans 2002). It concerns not only learning a particular music-dance,
but also serving as the process of socialization, a medium through which living
folklore in the form of legends, rituals, creations, and narratives is transmitted from
one generation to the next.
36.3 Spiritual Well-being and the Arts
36.3.1 Spirituality and the Arts
Experiencing spirituality through the arts is commonly observed in children’s

everyday life. Spirituality refers to the depth dimension of human experience in
which body and mind, self and world, merge into aliveness. Artistic activities are an
essential part of what it is to live well. Experience of the arts can enhance children’s
spiritual awareness of inner and outer worlds by providing opportunities for
engagement with their senses and emotions. It enables children to develop their
affective responses to their inner and outer selves. As discussed earlier, artistic
activities afford a certain kind of emotional sharing and self-understanding that
binds us, unites us, with other human beings in shared experience – what Goldie
(2007) sees as the virtues of art. When children are engaged in the arts, it often
seems as if they are involved into the activity itself, a state of flow
(Csikszentmihalyi 1992), as if the activity itself manages the experience and
governs the flow of consciousness, not the result. It is so intense and focused that
it is experienced as worth doing for its own sake.
The arts have been the most powerful media for human beings to express
and experience their reflections on spirituality. Often, the distinction between
aesthetic and spiritual experiences is blurred, as suggested by Bloomfield (2000,
p. 135):
For some this can be likened to a spiritual experience; for others it is a personal experience
of the ‘inner-self’, a feeling of great joy or of a deeper meditative nature that is secular
rather than religious. The metaphysical aspect of arts education is of immeasurable value.
Some observe that aesthetics is a modern rendition of spirituality. For example,

British music educationist June Boyce-Tillman (2000) argues that music is the last
remaining ubiquitous spiritual experience in many secularized Western cultures.
Experience with the arts is largely seen as the only venue in the public domain in
which the exploration of spirituality is accepted. Often, with this connection to the
arts, the word “spirituality” is used in a more “innocuous” way (Hay and Nye 1998,
p. 8). Given that the arts are reduced to being a commodity providing diversion or
entertainment in modern society, the role of the arts in children’s spiritual
development is ever increasing. In their everyday lives, the spiritual power of the
arts is vivid.
Among many forms of spiritual experiences, Hay and Nye suggest “relational
consciousness” as one of them. Conversing with ordinary school children before
their mastery of religious language, Nye concludes that relational consciousness is
a common thread that puts together their experiences of spirituality (Hay and Nye
1998). Relational consciousness encompasses child–God consciousness, child–
people consciousness, child–world consciousness, and child–self consciousness.
Hay (2001) highlights that contrary to the common cultural belief that spirituality is
solitary in nature, spirituality is relational; and relational consciousness of the other
is often the precursor of spirituality. Although solitude is characteristic of much
prayer and meditation, it is merely a setting for, rather than the content of, the
here-and-now immediacy that constitutes spiritual awareness. Hay and Nye surmise
that humans have a biological need for being holistically related to the other.
Children have the potential to be much more deeply in tune with themselves and
their relationship with others and the world.
It is suggested that despite the close relationship between religious and spiritual
experiences, it is not necessarily religious contents that lead children to spirituality.
Examining children’s choral-reading experiences, Trousdale, Bach, and Willis
(2010) report that communal oral reading and discussions of poetry provided an
opportunity to express their experiences of spirituality, such as relationships with
self and others, with the natural world, and with a reality beyond the material world.
However, it was not the content of the poems, they argue, that brought about such
experiences, but the process of engagement: “freedom in interpretation, physicality
in interpretation; a sense of friendship, of a safe, interpretive community; and the
opportunity to express their ‘feelings’, their emotions” (Trousdale et al. 2010,
p. 317). Ashley (2002) proffers that in the context of chorister singing, spirituality
may have less to do with religious commitment than social and cultural interactions.
Fisher (1999) asserts that spirituality is manifested by the quality of relationships in
four domains: personal, communal, environmental, and transcendental (pp. 30–31).
Because the process of music-making – performing, composing, and listening –
involves activity within all four domains, the direct relationship between music
engagement and spiritual well-being is often evident (Wills 2011).
Spirituality is an essential constituent of the development of a whole person. It is
an extended project of life integration, which involves both temporal and long-term
dimensions of human growth (Rodger 1996). Spiritual experiences may induce
short-term responses, highlighted by such awareness sensing as tuning and focusing
(Hay and Nye 1998). They may also lead to a long-term commitment, urging
a person to take actions and form a way of life along with the experiences.
Rodger (1996) states, “a spiritual way of life is a transformation of the person,
affecting the whole of life and all the person’s relationships” (p. 53). This view is
further supported by Van Ness (1996) who argues that spirituality is a series of lived
experiences of self-transformation and subsequent gradual development. It tran-
scends the separation of mind and body, self and world, process and product,
manifesting itself in an integrated synthesis of growth and development. The
transformative power of the arts has been noted by educators and child care givers
(Jackson 2000) and is believed to cultivate children’s spirituality and enrich their
well-being.
Transformation takes place within everyday occurrences, not necessarily within
the religious realm. Noddings (2003) suggests that to focus only on children’s
religious experiences is to ignore the depth and width of their spiritual experiences.
Spirituality does not necessarily come with a grand epiphany but develops in
everyday contexts. Children are reported to have experienced everyday activities
as spiritual. Wilson (2004, in Nash 2009) observes that “talking with friends,
listening to music and watching the stars . . . contribute to a young person’s sense
of well-being and wholeness, a sense of transcendence and oneness with the world
and others” (p. 243). Wills (2011) confirms that singing in school can be spiritual,
as it transforms children and induces changes in their behaviors and senses of self-
esteem as well as in other areas of school life. Her study highlights the transfor-
mational nature of musical processes and aspects of spirituality and well-being in
music-making: transcendence, connectedness, and flow. Wilson (2004) posits that
children should be guided to see the spirituality in their lives through ordinary
events that are essentially spiritual. What is necessary, according to Noddings, is
a vision of everyday spirituality that leads to happiness that can be pursued directly
without resorting to esoteric pathways. The arts provide an ideal format because, as
discussed above, the separation between the religious and the secular becomes
blurred in the experiences of spirituality through the arts. Promoting children’s
engagement in the arts and their understanding of the spiritual facets of everyday
experience plays a central role in cultivating their spiritual well-being.
36.3.2 Well-being and Art Forms
Children experience spirituality through a variety of art forms, such as painting

(London 2003), dance (Broadbent 2004), drama (Winston 2002), poetry (Trousdale
et al. 2010), and music (Boyce-Tillman 2007). Drawing, painting, and playing with
space and color engage children in communicating their spirits and senses.
Coleman (1998) reasons that “we turn to art not only to gain insight into life, but
in order to become fully human” (p. 75). Art helps children to understand the world
and their situations, especially those that are not easily comprehensible, because art
invites them to look inward through an embodied experience. In particular, Coles
(1992) elucidates that children “seek out its beauties and mysteries and terrors, give
them substance of shape and form, of color, of suggestive or symbolic significance”
(pp. 16, 20). Matsunobu (2012) argues that art can serve as a mirror of one’s mind:
Art is not only about beauty, or an art of “stained glass,” but also about relationship;
relationship to the world and relationship to the self, an art of “mirror,” thus serving
as a way of self-realization and self-understanding. Likewise, drawing on the
metaphor of art as a mirror, Franklin (1999) points out that art reflects children’s
hopes, joys, and fears. As an art therapist, he aptly states, “As our efforts are
reflected back to us, we simultaneously witness our separateness from and connec-
tion to the work. . .. The creative experience in art leads one inward, toward the
Self” (p. 6). Art serves not only to reflect the self but to engage the sacred in life
(Abbs 2003; London 2003; Campbell 2006). Sacred objects, religious symbols, and
places are often sanctioned through the arts across cultures, and they can be
a source of spirituality for children. Children can use a variety of materials –
paint, clay, wood, and sand – to enshrine their experiences of divinity through the
tools of art.
Dance is a form of focusing on the bodily felt sense of an experience and the
wisdom of the body. Physical movements heighten children’s awareness of
bodily felt senses and encourage them to be open to sensory and visceral
experiences. Broadbent (2004) stresses that learning through the medium of
creative dance enables children to embody abstract ideas and concepts, such as
the Creation story, in a concrete form and inspires them to create their own
expressions and interpretations. She argues that dance facilitates children’s
kinesthetic intelligence and that engaging in dance supports their development
as whole persons.
Poetry is a way for self-expression and self-understanding (Bhagwan 2009). It
helps children to face themselves and develop a sense of self. Trousdale, Bach,
and Wills (2010) uncover the way in which reading and discussing poetry with
spiritual themes can play a major role in children’s spiritual development. Poetry-
therapy exercises, proposed by Gustavson (2000), encourage children to draw on
individual situations and initiate possible changes and outcomes through a poetry
format; the exercises help them to engage in their inner feelings and self-discov-
ery. Like art and music media, poetry can be used as a method of healing,
developing self-awareness, self-esteem and resilience in children in need
(Coholic 2010).
Music, when approached as an empowering agent perspective, is most effective
among the many forms of art, and its effects can be realized immediately. Music
transports humans to other realms of consciousness. It renders the most direct and
intensified experience of the aesthetic and the transcendent (Adorno 2002, p. 117).
Music contributes to children’s awareness of spirituality in a unique way. “Tuning”
is a mode of human connection realized by a musical engagement. It is an
experience of a complete “resonance” or “being in tune” with something outside
of oneself. Schutz (1971) proposes the notion of “mutual tuning-in” as a kind of
heightened awareness of connectedness that arises when fully involved in musical
acts. It is founded upon a common experience of music in which participants
reciprocally share with each other the flux of time as a direct inner experience.
This is what children experience in collective music-making (Ashley 1999; Boyce-
Tillman 2007). Schutz argues that sharing the same flux of time brings an emergent
sense that the participants “grow older together while the musical process lasts”
(p. 175). Schutz’s discussion addresses not only the importance of time as gener-
ating a sense of mutuality, but also that of physical space and community, in which
bodily movements are interpreted as a field of expression. The result of such an
interaction is a shared sense of mutual connection.
Children naturally sing and hum. They often invent songs and create their own
musical expressions using existing songs (Barrett 2006). The genesis of musical
expression can be traced to the preverbal rhythms and modes of infancy.
Dissanayake (2000) substantiates a view that all humans share the biological
make-up of aesthetic expressions. Homo-aesthetics is the concept she uses to
underscore the protomusical operations of human interactions based on such pro-
cesses as formalization, repetition, exaggeration, dynamic variation, and manipu-
lation of expression (Dissanayake 2008). She posits that humans inherit and
develop these operational behaviors through ritualization, and this process, she
believes, is both cultural and biological.
Spiritual experience customarily derives from one’s interactions with and
immersion in nature (Matsunobu 2007a). Hay and Nye (1998) relate that feeling
“at one” with nature is an illumination of tuning into the world of the sacred, which
is often reported as a form of childhood spiritual experience. Peter London argues
that children learn a great deal by drawing in nature because “the only authentic
source of art . . . is firsthand conversation between the self and the world” (London
2003, pp. 76). London believes that “Nature speaks. The pivotal act of drawing
closer to Nature is to learn how to listen” (p. 86). If we fail to listen, nature becomes
silent. This view is supported by Rudolf Steiner (1961/1994), whose idea of
education generally serves as the basis of holistic, spiritually sensitive approaches
to education. He states (Steiner 1994, pp. 45–46):
As we learn to do so, a new faculty takes root in the world of feeling and thought. All of
nature begins to whisper its secrets to us through its sounds. Sounds that were previously
incomprehensible to our soul now become the meaningful language of nature. Where
we had heard only noise in the sounds produced by inanimate objects, we now learn
a new language of the soul. As this cultivation of our feelings continues, we become
aware that we can hear things we never conceived of before; indeed, we begin to hear
with our souls.
From the viewpoints expressed above, the history of human development is seen
as a process of excluding nature and eliminating awe, wonder, and beauty from
humans’ lives. London (1989) contends that children’s experiences of art have been
devalued by three notions, namely, that art is about beauty, that technique and
a dexterous eye are necessary to be artists, and that there are certain cannons of
good form that bring about beautiful things (p. 14). To emphasize the connection
among art, nature, and spirituality is a reminder of the origin of human inspirations.
Nature is a site or source of spiritual experience, and aesthetic expression is usually
a manifestation of one’s encounter with, immersion in, and experience of nature.
London argues that children should not be deprived of spiritual experience such as
strolling through the woods, admiring a constellation of stars, or listening to the
silence of the night.
Education philosopher Noddings (2003) emphasizes the role of arts in children’s
lives. She sees spirituality as a significant constituent of happiness – happiness not
in the sense of financial success or salvation but as subjective well-being. Acknowl-
edging that we do so little in schools to promote spiritual well-being, Noddings
questions why: (a) “Do we suggest to our students that the soul rises with the sun,
that it is worth the effort to drag one’s weary body out occasionally to lift the
soul?”; (b) “Do we invite students to look at their houses and ask how many objects
have been ‘registered officially’ as members of the human household?”; (c) “Do we
encourage reflection on interspecies affection as we pursue politically correct
lessons on environmentalism?”; (d) “Do we acknowledge the uneasiness and fear
that often arise at night?”; and (e) “Do we help students to memorize poetry, not for
official performances or grades, but to build a repertoire of spiritual exercises? If we
do not, why don’t we?” (pp. 172–173). Noddings finds spiritual experiences in
everyday life, at home and in nature, in a way similar to McCreery (1996).
McCreery identifies events for spiritual awareness, such as in the home (birth,
death, love, trust, joy, sadness, special occasions, religion), at the school (nature
studies, stories, danger, failure, reward, companionship, success; also activities
such as painting, drawing, sorting, matching, playing, storytelling, singing), and on

television (cultural differences, violence, death, social taboos, nobility, despicable
behavior, suffering, charity). Artists and educators promoting spirituality in the
public domain see spirituality as entailing the potential to bring about a realization
of the most profound realities of one’s world and a consciousness of the self in the
fullest sense. London (2003), Noddings (2003), and Miller (2000) believe that
educators should not devalue spirituality’s potential to enrich children’s lives in
favor of objective, detached, public matters of teaching. Education is to lead
youngsters to an awakening of the holistic nature of existence and the integrative
dynamics of body-mind-spirit.
Experiences of the arts can help them to transcend the boundaries of everyday
life, heal emotional hurts (Aldridge 1995; Lipe 2002), and enable individuals to
fulfill their inner spiritual potential. Hall (2004) contends that children develop
spirituality through art by “learning to value themselves; learning to value relation-
ships; learning to value society; and learning to value the environment” (p. 135).
What matters is how children engage in activities rather than the activities them-
selves, as any subject can be tedious and mechanistic (Eaude 2009b). When it is
experienced and pursued as playful and creative, it can be a source of great pleasure
and soul enriching. Although spirituality and well-being can be pursued through any
media, opportunities within the arts are more obvious than in other areas.
As explored in Eaude (2009a), the arts offer a creative context in which children
are free to experiment, change, and fail without the risks being too great. The role
of adults includes creating an accepting, creative, and nurturing environment in
which children can overcome adversity and grow as whole persons in positive ways.
36.4 Conclusion
In this chapter, we focused our attention on the role of the arts in children’s culture
and play as well as in their social and spiritual well-being as manifested through
various artistic forms and processes. In conclusion, we propose several key sug-
gestions based on the literature review.
First, understanding children’s well-being requires both short-term and long-
term perspectives. As Csikszentmihalyi posits, happiness is not something neces-
sarily experienced unless one gets out of the state of flow. In light of this view,
children may not derive a sense of satisfaction or fulfillment during the activity.
They may even experience frustration in the process. However, a rewarding feeling
may emanate much later, particularly when the meaning of the process is realized in
terms of the result or by reflection. Much of the experience gained through the arts
may be attributed to such an enduring process. Research on spirituality has pro-
vided insights into the myriad ways children’s transformation through the arts
occurs by analyzing children’s short-term and long-term responses to artistic
experiences. Both perspectives are essential to further research in arts education,
therapy, and social work, as investigation in these fields tends to focus merely on
the outcomes of children’s short-term engagement in the arts.
Second, young children enjoy some form of artistic engagement, regardless of

their skills or levels of expression. Yet it is the adults who usually judge the values
of children’s commitment from a dichotomous view of art, one for leisure and one
for serious study. The distinction between local art and school art, informal
learning and formal learning, play culture and school culture is aligned with
such a demarcation. One of the factors contributing to these divisions, according
to Walsh (2002), is how adults see talent. Adults tend to think of the arts as
a worthwhile pursuit for only the talented few, and this is typically the case in
schooling. What is troubling about this view is that even when children’s involve-
ment in the art is creative, playful, and self-content, it can be simply dismissed or
ignored by adults whose orientation toward art is hereditarian in outlook. This
standpoint keeps children from long-term participation in the arts. Importantly,
Csikszentmihalyi’s theory propounds that children’s well-being is attained by
means of prolonged engagement in challenging tasks, irrespective of their talent
or ability. Acknowledging the role of the arts in shaping children’s socialization
and well-being, adults need to determine when and how it is most beneficial
to each child, not in terms of the level of external expression, but in terms of
the depth of internal experience. We concur with Walsh’s (2002) statement
that “the goal is not a society of artists, any more than a society of athletes or
physicists, but a society of people with many well developed selves, one or more
of which is artistic” (p. 108).
Third, we noted the extant research on the role of the arts in the intellectual
development of children, the positive link of which is often reiterated in arts
education discussion. The current discourse tends to justify and secure the
positioning of the arts in schools by underscoring a collection of studies that
allude to the transferability of arts learning in the development of cognitive
competencies (Catterall et al. 1999; Burton et al. 1999, 2000; Moga et al.
2000). However, whether or not the experience of the arts results in improvement
of academic performance remains questionable (Eisner 1998; Winner and
Hetland 2000; Bresler 2002b). Research studies have indicated that there may
be a weak association, not a causal relationship, between arts learning and
academic achievement. Yet, this discourse, with its corresponding practices, is
not kept to the confines of the scholarly sphere but has the capacity to influence
how people conceive of the role of the arts in schools and homes. Many parents
today send their children to music lessons with the firm belief that music learning
will make them smarter. As evidenced by the literature, active participation in
and exposure to the arts have positive impacts on children’s emotional, social,
creative, and spiritual well-being. However, to legitimize the value of multiple
forms of artistic engagement solely in terms of children’s academic performance
is to negate its wealth of possibilities in advancing child well-being.
Finally, further research is warranted to incorporate a more holistic perspective
of child well-being in the arts. Notwithstanding a wide range of research being
undertaken on the artistic pursuit of children, the majority of these studies remain
largely within the boundary of a certain discipline. Children’s everyday life
activities are extensive and diverse, and the elements of art permeate almost
every process and expression of their play and social activities. Research on the
arts and child well-being suggests that adults need to center their efforts and
continually strive to understand the holistic nature of children’s experiences
beyond each individual context of school, home, and community.
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Imagination, Play, and the Role of
Performing Arts in the Well-Being of 37
Children
Philip E. Silvey
37.1 Introduction
Children require more than just the fundamental means for survival. To develop
a sense of personal significance and fulfillment, children warrant more. In this
chapter, I will explore the potential that lies in the arts, specifically the performing
arts, as engagements that enable children to achieve and maintain a sense of
well-being. Campbell (2002) suggests, “For children, music is a natural inclination,
and it often appears to be as essential to their well-being as it is for them to be warm,
fed, and well-rested” (p. 57). I aim to identify the characteristics of music and other
performing arts that could render them “essential” to the lives of children. I intend to
show how fostering such inclinations might significantly enhance the quality of life
experienced by children.
People from cultures around the world have demonstrated an interest and
investment in the performing arts through their participation and patronage of
these arts. Although this in itself suggests the acceptance of artistic endeavors as
worthwhile pursuits, it may be difficult to articulate exactly why they are valued
and whether or not this involvement contributes to health and happiness in any
measureable way. With this in mind, I will pursue the following questions: How
might participation in performing arts such a music, dance, and theater contribute to
a child’s state of wellness? Are these kinds of benefits achievable by other means?
What contributions toward health and peace of mind can be gained through
participation in artistic endeavors?
I will begin by examining the phenomenon of play in the lives of children and its
connection to the work of performing artists (Wennerstrand 1998). I will focus on
imaginative forms of play as they naturally lead to artistic play. Furthermore, I will
explore the link between imagination, imaginative play, and the performing arts.
P.E. Silvey
Eastman School of Music, University of Rochester, Rochester, NY, USA

1080 P.E. Silvey
I will note how free and informal artistic play may progress to more formal and
focused study in the performing arts. I will then consider each of three main
performing art forms, how they are similar, what distinguishes them, and what
research shows regarding their impact on a child’s well-being. I will conclude by
proposing four purposes that arts participation might serve in meeting important
needs of growing children. These four functions can be characterized as (1) activity,
(2) belonging, (3) identity, and (4) ownership.
Children may live their lives without any engagement in the performing arts.
Children can and do survive this way. Realistically, in conditions of extreme
hardship where basic needs go unmet, activities in the arts are likely to be of
secondary or little value. Yet despite this, the arts as a cultural phenomenon
persists, sometimes even among those facing the most challenging of circum-
stances (Colijn 1995). The practice of some form of music-making, for example,
occurs in every known culture, which has prompted philosophers and sociologists
alike to puzzle over its purpose. Some even suggest that the key to understanding
the human condition may lie in examining the pervasiveness of such arts when
these acts are not necessary for survival (Gardner 1983). An exploration of why
humans value arts activities may provide some insight into what influences the
quality of a child’s life; that is, a child’s need to do more than simply remain alive,
but to thrive.
37.2 Play and Culture in the Lives of Children
When basic needs are assured, children play. French philosopher Jean-Jacques
Rousseau (1762/2003) described the healthy child as “impetuous, sprightly,
animated, without corroding care, without long and painful foresight, wholly
absorbed in his actual existence, and enjoying a plentitude of life which seems
bent on reaching out beyond him” (p. 122). According to this characterization,
children are filled with a natural sense of curiosity which stems from an
unfulfilled yet “innate desire for well-being” (p. 135). Children explore their
surroundings, run fingers over surfaces, and balance on rocks. They survey what
is before them and react to sounds behind them. As Eisner (2002) notes, children
find satisfaction and delight in exploring the sensory world. The inclination to
play allows for important sensory experiences to occur in the lives of children.
Play is a way they willfully engage with the world, generally on their own terms.
When given freedom and time, they are inclined to participate in a wide range of
play activities. Howard Gardner (1973) identifies a child’s play activity as
crucial to his or her development, remarking that “. . . through play, the child
is able to make manageable and comprehensible the overwhelming and
perplexing aspects of the world” (p. 164). Kennedy (2004) provides an
overview of scholarship supporting the importance and value of play in the
healthy development of children. Despite the potential for numerous factors
that may discourage informal play, under optimal conditions, children play
(Guddemi et al. 1998).
37 Imagination, Play, and the Role of Performing Arts in the Well-Being of Children 1081
The role and importance of play is common for children from various cultures.
Much has been written about play and its many forms. Historically, Huizinga
(1949) defined play through identifying its formal characteristics. First, play is
a voluntary act. Secondly, it has a quality of being removed or outside of
the ordinary, “. . . a stepping out of ‘real’ life into a temporary sphere of activity
with a disposition all its own” (p. 8). Thirdly, play occurs within the limits of time
and space. Fourth, it creates a sense of order. And lastly, play is not motivated
by a desire for material gain (a quality which distinguishes it from “work”).
These attributes correlate with the conditions of the performing arts. Arts
activities are an assertion of the will, set apart from the everyday, occurring
within the limits of time and space, organized to express or communicate. When
children are granted freedom, space, and time, they will use forms of play
to create order or to exercise power over their surroundings. They will generally
do so for the sake of creating an experience rather than as a means to gain
a specific outcome or profit.
As growing children encounter the world over time, they begin to test
boundaries, exercise their abilities, and expand their sensibilities through play.
As language skills develop, they may pretend to be a creature, or someone else,
or even experiment with being another version of themselves. In order for a child to
develop in a healthy, timely manner, this learning process must somehow unfold at
a pace in keeping with the maturing child’s needs. I suggest that in part, children
maintain their sense of well-being through those engagements that foster their
growth at an appropriate pace. We neither want children to grow up too fast, nor
do we want them to postpone this development. Rather, children must be given the
opportunity to mature in an unhurried manner (Elkind 1988).
The conditions of this growth process are contingent on the environment,
relationships, and the child’s accumulating experiences. As Eisner notes, the term
culture can refer to a shared way of life, but also in biological terms, a culture serves
as a “medium for growing things” (Eisner 2002, p. 3). Children are nested in
overlapping rings of cultural groups and identify with multiple cultural units or
macrocultures, microcultures, supercultures, and subcultures (Campbell 2002).
They are learning not only to absorb and assimilate these cultures but also to
shape and transform them. Anttila (2007) notes that children create their own
play culture during unsupervised interaction with peers and that this time is
important as children seek power, meaning, and identity.
An important earmark of any culture is reflected and captured in its arts. Art
forms portray and embody facets of a community of people and serve to crystallize
“cultural patterns of expression” (Blacking 1973, p. 73). Often we learn to under-
stand and value cultures outside our own through observing and participating in that
culture’s arts. We experience these cultures through our perception and experience
of their arts. A child’s participation in the arts of her own culture is an important
means for her to see herself in relation to that culture, both as a recipient of shared
understandings and also as a contributing member.
In more recent examinations of the phenomenon of play, the diversity of
play forms and the way they are discussed across disciplines contribute to what
1082 P.E. Silvey
Sutton-Smith (1997) characterizes as the ambiguity of play. He lists nine categories

of play forms or play activities that range from those activities which are mostly
private (such as daydreaming) to those that are often more public (such as playing
the piano). Among this list are three categories that are most relevant to the ways
play relates to the performing arts. These are solitary play, informal social play, and
performance play.
37.2.1 Solitary Play
An active child released into open space is likely to engage in numerous forms of
solo play. These may include running, jumping, and repeating movements with
arms, legs, and hands. A child may also yell, shout, speak softly, hum, or sing.
A child may engage in play acting, that is, pretending to be (or control) something
that in the child’s imagination becomes more than what it literally is. A child might
create a role or voice for a plaything (which could be a toy or perhaps a found object
reimagined). These are exploratory actions, ways for children to assert themselves
(or “try out things”) in their worlds. A disengaged child who does not participate in
these kinds of actions appears to be removed from the world or protecting herself
from the world.
A child’s solo play may be exploratory, spontaneous, and undirected. It may also
take on a more directed form, as when a child runs across a field in order to arrive
at a destination or see how fast she can run. This kind of play is goal-oriented.
The child seeks an end (at least temporarily), and this shapes or drives the actions.
These two distinctions are important for understanding the ways children play and
how that relates to artistic interests and development. In contrast to goal-directed
play, exploratory play is the investigation of options with unknown ends. It is the
act of trial. These kinds of spontaneous actions yield information that the child may
use to inform future kinds of play.
37.2.2 Informal Social Play
Children play together. Frequently during play, their actions foster or spring from
their engagement with others. A child’s social interactions with adults and peers
often take place in the context of play activities. Engagement in play with one
or more others can be considered communal play. In some cases, play actions are
aligned, repeated, or coordinated. Two or more children attempt to move or sing
or enact a story in a similar way. Children may produce mirror images of
a playmate’s movements or echo a playmate’s (or parent’s) sounds or actions.
But often, play involving more than one child results in interactions and responses
that are not simultaneous or aligned. In this case, children’s play activities are
individualized and create a sort of counterpoint of activity. Play may also be
cooperative, such as when children choose to play different characters in an
imagined story they pretend to enact. Children act and react, initiate and
respond. A child’s behaviors are impacted by the presence of others and their
watchful eyes. Even when playing alone, children may simulate this social aspect
of play. The act of singing or humming can be a means to perform for self to keep
from feeling alone. As Burrows (1990) proposes, “Hearing the sound of their own
voices returns vocalizers to themselves in a new form . . .. [w]hen we hum to
ourselves, we divide ourselves in two, into sound producers and listeners, and
two is company” (p. 34).
It is important to note that this kind of social play can also result in comparisons
and competition. Competitive play includes the many games and challenges that
students pose to one another in order to determine a winner (Huizinga 1949).
Whether cooperative or competitive, children use play as a means to relate to
others.
37.2.3 Performance Play: Improvisatory Play and Audience
For young children, play is often exploratory and improvisatory. Children pretend
and engage in imaginative scenarios that evolve in the moment. Sawyer (1997)
describes the pretend play of children as improvisational performance, like that
practiced by small ensemble Jazz musicians or improvisational theater groups. This
comparison raises a potential link between these play activities and the more
purposeful pursuit of various performing arts. Wennerstrand (1998) cites the ability
to improvise as being a central aspect of play and also central to performing artists
as they seek to generate new material. She further notes four key dimensions of
play: spatial, temporal, physical, and social. As I will demonstrate more fully, each
of these dimensions correlates with play as an activity that corresponds with
involvement in performing arts.
Children who play can often be seen as children who perform. They may act as
their own audience, perform for their playmates, or perhaps perform for an adult
they wish to impress. Children engaged in solitary play often change their behavior
when they become aware that someone is watching. They may minimize sounds
and movements due to feelings of vulnerability, or they may enlarge and amplify
actions in order to encourage a response from onlookers. These changes in behavior
are readily visible to those who have the opportunity to observe children at play.
When others are present (such as siblings, peers, family, or other adults), these
outsiders become observers of the child and what the child is doing. They constitute
what might be identified as an audience. Those behaviors that qualify as forms of
the performing arts take place when a child is given space and time and the will to
express or communicate, that is, to impact or move an audience. To perform is to
carry out a task, to do something. These arts are time-bound and require physical
engagement and therefore hold significant potential as forms of embodied learning
(Davidson 2004; Bowman 2004). When I utter sounds, make movements, or
emulate characters as a means to express, I am performing.
express or communicate in a more specified way. Free play or exploratory play does
not have this stipulation.
In keeping with this more differentiated definition of artistic play, Gardner
(1973) suggests a hierarchy with play serving as a necessary precursor to the
aesthetic process, distinguishing art as a “goal-directed form of play” (p. 166).
What sets apart the arts from play, Gardner maintains, is that they require a child to
connect the impulse to create with a desire to communicate. But this desire to create
or make, that is, fashion a product, may not be all that could motivate a child to be
artistic. The desire to express in itself may also serve as motivation.
The will to express is linked to a need to expel or release emotions, but it is more
than a pure discharge of emotion. It is one thing for a child to move his body to
expel energy but quite another for him to move about as a means to show joy or
frustration in an expressive manner. Yet expression does not merely mean a release
of emotion, as Dewey (1934/1989) establishes:
[E]motional discharge is a necessary but not a sufficient condition of expression . . .. there is

no expression, unless there is urge from within outwards, the welling up must be clarified
and ordered by taking into itself the values of prior experiences before it can be an act of
expression. (p. 67)
Thus, artistic play may be seen as the clarification and ordering of unbridled
emotions. Dewey recalls English novelist and playwright John Galsworthy (1912)
and his definition of art: “Art is that imaginative expression of human energy,
which, through technical concretion of feeling and perception, tends to reconcile
the individual with the universal, by exciting in him impersonal emotion” (p. 255).
In this case, the word impersonal is used to “signify momentary forgetfulness of
one’s own personality and its active wants” (p. 256). This definition underscores
tenets held in more contemporary views of art. Art entails the expression of
emotions that is somehow detached by means of “technical concretion” or arrange-
ments of various media (sound, body, language). The outcome, according to
Galsworthy, carries an internal resonance with the outside world. The child having
a tantrum is discharging emotion, whereas the child drumming aggressively to
express the qualities of strong emotion may be engaging in a form of artistic play.
Dewey (1934/1989) validates the child’s accumulation of experiences as
a source for expressive, artistic play:
I do not think that the dancing and singing of even little children can be explained wholly on
the basis of unlearned and unformed responses to then existing objective occasions . . .. the
act is expressive only as there is in it a unison of something stored from past experience,
something therefore generalized, with present conditions. (p. 78)
In other words, children make sense of their accumulating experiences, or

personal history, by the expressive ways they respond to the influences of the
world around them. Dewey proposes that imagination develops through the phys-
ical and sensory process, meaning that the actual engagement and experimentation
with a medium (sound, body, character/story) are what develops imagination:
1084 P.E. Silvey
37.3 Imagination and Artistic Play
37.3.1 Imaginative Play
Historically, child psychologists have devoted much attention to studying the play
behaviors of children (Fein 1981). In particular, those studies examining imagina-
tive play have yielded informative yet inconclusive findings. Despite this uncer-
tainty, there is support that playfulness is related to creativity and inclines
youngsters toward divergent thinking.
Among the many forms of play, imaginative play is an important and common
type of play that has immediate relevance to the performing arts. During this type of
play action, children create a fantasy version of reality where they generate
characters that do not really exist and stories that are not, in actuality, happening.
This kind of play creates something set apart from the real world, set apart in a way
that protects the actor yet allows him or her to safely “try on” identities and
attitudes.
Imaginative play is an exercise of imagination. Vygotsky argued that “imagina-
tion develops in connection with the development of play and other forms of
socially organized action and interaction” (Minick 1996, p. 44). In other words,
the act of play itself can enable imagination to develop. According to Vygotsky
(1966), the child advances developmentally or progresses most evidently through
play activities or enacted imagination. Imaginative play in itself is not necessarily
art-making, but imaginative play may result in artistic actions or performances.
For my purposes, imaginative play will serve as a broader category of activities that
may lead to types of play that can be characterized as artistic play.
37.3.2 Artistic Play
Artistic play, or play that results in artistic creations, has elements of both play and
the arts. Sutton-Smith (1997) points out the historical pairing of play and art in what
he calls their “conflation,” resulting from the fact that they both involve “the
freedom, the autonomy, and the originality of the individual” (p. 133):
What develops in the twentieth century is a complex of ideas in which the child’s play and
art are brought together with ideas about the imagination, about the child as a primitive, an
innocent, an original, and, in effect, the true romantic, because he or she is untouched by the
world and still capable of representing things in terms of an unfettered imagination. (p. 133)
This romanticized fusion of play and art further obscures distinctions. Sutton-Smith
indicates a recent shift away from this view toward more discrete definitions. In this
revised model, play is conceptualized as a diffusive act of exploration, while art is
a particular and specific form of exploration that ultimately seeks to develop
sensuous forms. In other words, artistic play seeks to manipulate a medium (in
the case of dance, music, and theater, voice and body serve as medium) in order to
1086 P.E. Silvey
The imagination, by means of art, makes a concession to sense in employing its materials, but
nevertheless uses sense to suggest underlying ideal truth. Art is thus a way of having the
substantial cake of reason while also enjoying the sensuous pleasure of eating it too. (p. 263)
In this way, the arts serve an important function in bringing together mind and body.
In keeping with Dewey’s sentiment, Sutton-Smith (1997) summarizes the views of
Kant who believed that imagination serves as a means to mediate between sensory
knowledge and formal reason. A child experiences the world through her senses and
by doing so begins to make sense of the world.
Eisner (2002) makes less of a distinction between art and play, viewing the two
as having a close kinship. He states:
[T]he arts provide a kind of permission to pursue qualitative experience in a particularly

focused way and to engage in the constructive exploration of what the imaginative process may
engender. In this sense, the arts, in all their manifestations, are close in attitude to play. (p. 4)
Each of these conceptualizations of play in relation to art suggests that a playful

child may develop into a young artist, provided the child has opportunities to
develop the necessary skills for these pursuits. The impact of the artistic outcome
depends on the tools that the child intentionally develops and refines over years of
practice. According to Gardner (1973), a young person achieves the status of an
artist or performer when these systems of communication effectively work together
for purposes of expression:
When he is capable of expressing with a symbolic medium those ideas, feelings, or
experiences that have affected him, he has realized the essential function of the artist.
When he is able to contemplate the work of another person, and to perceive fundamental
aspects of this work, then communicate it through his own actions to other persons, he has
achieved the essentials of the performer. (p. 168)
It is important to note that in Gardner’s description of performing artists, he

assumes they will perform someone else’s creation (composition, choreography, or
script). In improvisatory performance, individuals generate the work as they create
it. Artistic play is goal-directed and may be either generative (seeking originality or
novelty) or mimetic (imitative). Imitating the world (singing melodies learned
elsewhere, moving like an animal, pretending to be a parent speaking to a child)
offers an accessible structure for children to explore their capabilities and mirror
what they have sensed around them. The intent is to emulate what has been
observed or heard and perhaps begin to create a newly conceived version or
variation of this. But initially, the child most often desires to mimic, repeat, or
echo. As Campbell (1998) notes, the musical expressions children create “may
appear spontaneous, but many of them are a blend of bits of songs, rhythms, and
music they have known before” (p. 193).
As children engage with the sensory world, they begin to explore forms of
representation through manipulating various media. For the performing arts, this
means making sounds, attempting movements, and trying out characters and voices.
All these actions are intended to transform conscious understandings through
manipulating “material” or, in this case, the body and voice as a performance
medium. Through the process of endeavoring to represent, a child essentially

engages in a dialogue or conversation with her surroundings. This engagement
allows for surprises and discoveries that emerge through acts of exploration. As
Eisner (2002) notes, “The arts invite children to pay attention to the environment’s
expressive features and to the products of their imagination and to craft a material
so that it expresses or evokes an emotional or feelingful response to it” (p. 23).
The nature and value of play and its artistic forms can be summarized in
the following way. Play serves as a natural and important means through which
a child develops. Imaginative play offers a unique and valuable way for a child to test
and respond to the world. Artistic play, as a form of imaginative play, provides
particularly important ways for children to develop their expressive capacities and
make sense of the world in which they live. This particular kind of sensemaking is
part of what children require in order to experience a greater sense of well-being.
37.3.3 Imagination and the Well-Being of Children
In the previous section, I have shown that the arts can serve as a cultivated and
refined manifestation of imaginative play. If this is the nature of what children
experience, imagination and the capacity for it can be seen as important for their
well-being. In fact, the exercise of the imagination in overt ways (i.e., artistic play
or performance) may be an outgrowth of a defining aspect of our well-being.
Winnicott (1971) proposes:
The creative impulse is therefore something that can be looked at as a thing in itself,
something that of course is necessary if an artist is to produce a work of art, but also as
something that is present when anyone – baby, child, adolescent, adult, old man or
woman – looks in a healthy way at anything or does anything deliberately . . .. (p. 69)
Thus, creativity is a way of seeing and doing that proves essential to a person’s health.
Many others have developed these ideas further. Participation in the arts, says
Maxine Greene (1995), “can release imagination to open new perspectives, to
identify alternatives . . .. encounters with the world become newly informed”
(p. 18). She adds, “To call for imaginative capacity is to work for the ability to
look at things as if they could be otherwise” (p. 19). According to Greene, “[t]he role
of the imagination . . .. is to awaken, to disclose the ordinarily unseen, unheard, and
unexpected” (p. 28). The child who engages in imaginative play begins to entertain
possibilities for how anything encountered might be viewed differently.
In a discussion of the generative possibilities of theater and dramatic arts,
Woodson (2007) notes:
Art allows us to see how the world is made and remade. Through deliberative thought and
carefully considered action, artists posit what-ifs, juxtapose disparate elements to present
alternative emotional states, and engage perceivers in imaginative conversations of emo-
tion, intellect, and form and context. Through the generative possibilities of art-making—in
all its forms—young people rapidly see the consequences of their actions, and how their
choices impact the work as a whole. (p. 931)
1088 P.E. Silvey
The process of artistic performance provides a means for children to negotiate their
impact on a medium. This allows them to entertain possibilities that did not exist
prior to their own experiences of working within this medium.
To elaborate further, Eisner (2002) notes an important function of imagination as
a tool for exploration:
Imagination, that form of thinking that engenders images of the possible, also has
a critically important cognitive function to perform aside from the creation of possible
worlds. Imagination also enables us to try things out—again in the mind’s eye—without the
consequences we might encounter if we had to act upon them empirically. It provides
a safety net for experiment and rehearsal. (p. 5)
In other words, imagination is a safe way for children to test the waters of the
unknown without the threat of any harmful consequences. A child who is emerging
into more fully developed stages requires this zone of safety to be able to investi-
gate that which is outside his current realm of experience. A healthy state of growth
is dependent upon this kind of venturing out.
Egan (1992) further characterizes imagination in terms of its social virtues:
“By imaginatively feeling what it would be like to be other than oneself, one
begins to develop a prerequisite for treating others with as much respect as
one treats oneself” (p. 55). Thus, imagination can serve as a tool of empathy and
may help create a more tolerant and compassionate view of others. This sense of living
in the shoes of another can provide insights that allow us to experience a kind of
harmony with others that impacts our own state of well-being. There is nothing quite
so unsettling as the unknown. When we empathize, as imagination allows us to do, we
begin to relate to and “know” the other, making it more familiar and less foreign.
I would add that the instability or uncertainty of a child’s immediate circumstance
can be quieted or answered by the reassurance felt from a sense of possibility.
Winnicott (1971) suggests that it is “creative apperception more than anything else
that makes the individual feel that life is worth living” (p. 65). Our ability to visualize
or sustain the potential for realizing a desired future for ourselves (or our capacity to,
as Emily Dickinson aptly wrote, “dwell in possibility”) can provide us with the
purpose or drive to endure the current state of incompletion, or delayed gratification,
or unpleasant yet temporary circumstance.
37.4 Formal Instruction in Performing Arts
Artistic play is experimental and often informal. When children reach the age of
schooling, they may have the opportunity to participate in more formalized study in
the performing arts. Others have noted the value of this kind of structured participation
in the arts. During the act of creating (or recreating, as when a child learns to perform
an existing work), a child experiences self-realizations. Fowler (1996) notes: “It is
precisely because the creative act flows from the inside out rather than the outside in
that it helps youngsters discover their own resources, develop their own attributes, and
realize their own personal potential” (p. 57). He goes on to provide seven reasons he
believes every child needs the arts. These include self-definition, seeing themselves as
part of the larger culture, broadening perceptions, expanding abilities to communicate,
escaping the mundane, and developing imagination. He explains how developing the
imagination contributes to the betterment of mankind:
By exercising imagination, humans have been able to transform and reinvent the world in
infinite arrangements. Our evolving adaptations, adjustments, recyclings, and inventions enable
us to cope and to survive. By using our capacity to imagine, we reinvent our lives every day,
and we invent our future as well. Imagination enables us to burst the confines of the ordinary.
It allows us to rise up to meet new challenges and to improve the human condition. (p. 63)
Fowler goes on to say that the play of very young children is abundant with
invention, but this trait seems to wane as children mature. Participation in the
performing arts provides a way for children to continue to cultivate and sustain
this propensity for inventiveness.
Although the performing arts are pursued in many ways, it would be difficult to
consider these arts in children’s lives without including a discussion of their
occurrence in schooling and education. Many adults choose to engage or enroll
their children in more purposeful instruction in one or more of the performing
art disciplines through means that are formal or informal, public or private,
home-based or community-based. Although these decisions are sometimes contingent
on the ability to pay for such services, programs exist that provide ways for less-
advantaged children to receive arts instruction. An extensive body of scholarship
addresses and examines the role of the arts in education. For my purposes here, it is
sufficient to note that the arts play an important role in those settings.
As Fowler (1996) notes, a child engaged in the performing arts moves, acts, or
vocalizes as a means to amplify what is inside or to express a response to what is felt
or thought. These activities have significant educational value for developing
children. Eisner (2002) concurs:
Education . . . is the process of learning to create ourselves, and it is what the arts, both as
a process and the fruits of that process, promote. Work in the arts is not only a way of
creating performances and products; it is a way of creating our lives by expanding our
consciousness, shaping our dispositions, satisfying our quest for meaning, establishing
contact with others, and sharing a culture. (p. 3)
According to Egan (1992), “Education . . . is a process that awakens individuals

to a kind of thought that enables them to imagine conditions other than those that
exist or that have existed” (p. 47). By engaging with aspects of the world within the
structure and limits provided by the arts, young learners can begin to shape their
own views and intentions regarding how they will operate within this world.
I have established that play, and in particular imaginative play, occurs as a natural
part of a child’s developmental process. As children mature past the years of
exploratory play toward more disciplined pursuits, they may discover interests or
propensities for one or more of the performing arts disciplines. Each child has the
potential to benefit from exploration in any arts medium, but with the limits of time,
a child may need to choose which of these to pursue intentionally. Often during early
1090 P.E. Silvey
years of schooling, a child participates in an exploratory curriculum at school.

This provides opportunities for that child to experience activities in all of the art
forms. At this time, the child may recognize an art form that is more appealing, often
based on success or her own demonstrated ability to excel in that art form.
Each performing art form provides a unique experience with a different sensory
medium. Musical performance provides the opportunity for making expressive use of
sounds. These may be vocalized sounds or sounds produced through a musical
instrument. A child and parent may need to make choices regarding what kind of
music-making to pursue. This is also true for progressing from exploratory dance play
to more formalized dance instruction. Likewise, children may find formal opportu-
nities in theater. Of these three performing arts, music appears most often as a regular
curricular offering through schools. Opportunities to study dance or participate in
theater may be found in settings outside of school, such as community theater
organizations, theater arts programs after school or in the summer, dance companies
and independent dance schools, or church or faith-based performance opportunities.
I want to reiterate that improvisatory and exploratory forms of performing exist
in many informal settings and contribute to the development of young people as an
important kind of play. They are likely to continue to occur in numerous ways, even
if a child is pursuing one or more art forms in a formal setting. Providing children
with space, time, and safety can encourage improvisatory forms of artistic play.
That is, creating a sense that they are free to experiment, to explore, and to invent
within their surroundings.
37.4.1 Common Traits of Performing Arts
The performing arts share important similarities. As noted earlier, Wennerstrand

(1998) identifies four such dimensions as spatial, temporal, physical, and social.
First of all, the performing arts require the occupation and use of space. The act of
performing implies movement, which requires spatial parameters that allow for
such action. Secondly, the performing arts are temporal. That is, they unfold over
time and are constrained by time. Because of this, they lend themselves to the
development of form through repetition. In many cases, their form may follow
a narrative that unfolds over time. Because they are time-bound, they require
rehearsal, that is, repetition and cycling back through elements in order to develop
and refine efforts to manage and manipulate the various media. Thirdly, a performer
engages his body in the production of sound, the organization of movement, or the
development of character through the combination of sound, movement, and
language. This use of the body is fundamental to the performing arts and represents
an important form of knowledge. Lastly, the performing arts are social. Frequently,
these art forms are learned and studied in group settings or ensembles. Private study
occurs, as well as solo performance, but the intention is to communicate with others
(the audience), and therefore even solo performance has a social dimension.
Of these four dimensions, time plays a particularly important role. Performing
arts occur in real time. They cannot be stored or viewed in any kind of static way.
Even preserving these forms through audio or video recording devices does not
eliminate the fact that they are confined by time. To listen or view a performance
requires the passage of time. This also means that for the performer, repetition
becomes a critical tool for remembering and recreating more sophisticated and
structured performances. Because time is a finite and limited resource, children and
parents must make choices about how to allocate their waking hours. Perhaps the
most challenging consideration regarding the role that performing arts might play in
the life of a child is how these pursuits (or the opportunity for practice and
exploration) might fit into the schedule of activities that make up each day. With
these four parameters in mind, I will briefly examine what each of these performing
arts offers children in terms of their state of well-being.
37.4.2 Music
To make music, young performers use the artistic medium of sound. Because sound
is immediate and pervasive, it is already communicative in helping us orient
ourselves in the world. According to Dewey (1934/1989), “. . . sound itself is
near, intimate,” and it is “. . . the conveyor of what impends, of what is happening
as an indication of what is likely to happen . . .. [i]t is sounds that make us jump”
(p. 242). This relationship between sound and our orientation to our surrounding, as
well as its influence on our perception of time, contributes to its potency. Using
sounds as a means of artistic expression has an immediacy and can create an audible
reference point for the originator, even if the sound is coming from within.
Much could be written about music and the important role it plays in the lives of
children. Campbell (2002) underscores this value, saying, “music contributes in
positive ways in children’s lives, and many recognize—even in their youth and
inexperience—that they could not live without it” (p. 61). O’Neill (2006) situates
musical development in the context of recent child development scholarship which
embraces the universal potential and capacity for healthy development in all young
people. Rather than music being viewed as a domain for the talented few, “every
young person has the potential and capacity for positive musical development” and
notes “engagement in musical activities should be associated with positive or
healthy outcomes for all young people” (p. 463). Since young people generally
exercise autonomy over the way they engage with music, the promotion of musical
activities by the community can foster a child’s sense of self through opportunities
for self-governed expression, direction, and responsibility (O’Neill 2006).
37.4.3 Dance
In dance, the human body itself serves a medium, and in that sense, it is potentially
the most embodied form of art-making. Humans move to get themselves from place
to place and to accommodate their needs. People dance at social gatherings as
a means to interact and celebrate, generally in conjunction with music. But humans
1092 P.E. Silvey
also move to express emotions and ideas and to communicate these in direct and
indirect ways. It is the intentional shaping of movements, or what Dewey (1934/
1989) calls the “organization of energies” (p. 176), that constitutes dance.
Stinson (1997) examined adolescent engagement in school-sponsored dance
instruction. She proposes the possibility of an experience that falls between the
realms of work and play, two categories of action that are customarily kept separate
in school settings. She argues that students be given opportunities to become deeply
engaged in activities that are nondestructive, those that allow choice, freedom, and
control. Well-structured arts experiences can achieve this. Stinson and Bond (2001)
found that for many young people, dance created both a heightened sense of self
(feeling fully alive) and a sense of self-forgetfulness (getting lost in the moment,
becoming other). Of particular importance was the value young people placed on
the freedom they felt and needed when dancing.
37.4.4 Theater
The theatrical arts are prevalent in film, television, and on stage, but they may also
occur as part of cultural celebrations and rituals. They constitute a “playing out” of
story through the interactions (spoken and enacted) of characters and plot. For
Schonmann (2002), the body is the tool of theater. In theater, the play (as a noun) is
literally a structure for actual play (as a verb). She notes that “when a person plays,
he or she wittingly leaves the everyday world” (p. 140). This sense of temporary
displacement creates an opportunity for imagining possibilities, portraying others,
and vicariously experiencing what was or what might be. This takes place in
a removed yet protected manner.
Involvement in theatrical arts can fulfill important needs for young people.
Caillier (2006) identifies the need to attend to the ways young people choose to
engage in the arts outside of formal instruction and why they choose to do so. She
studied one young man’s engagement with theater arts and the role it played in his
life. She notes that the arts are not simply a means to another external end, but they
themselves serve primary purposes such as “the expression of identity and the
production of cultural symbols” (p. 2), as was evident in her case study.
Holloway and LeCompte (2001) studied the effects of the involvement of middle
school girls in a theater arts program for 2 years. They argue that this involvement
contributed to positive identity and self-worth:
[T]he arts have these effects because they make it possible for children to imagine
themselves out of their current identities and to try on new ways of being . . .. the arts let
children express themselves in healthful ways, permitting them to try on a variety of
alternative identities in relatively risk-free environments. (p. 388)
This is accomplished through the encouragement of “symbolic action” to create

alternatives to the accepted socialized norms and to disrupt expectations and trans-
form them. Participation in dramatic arts resulted in transformed identities due to
three learned practices: “centering, open-mindedness, and self-expression” (p. 401).
All three performing arts mediums often utilize existing works that are learned
and performed by young artists. Sometimes, as in the practice of musical theater, all
three of these art forms are integrated into a larger whole. A young person who is
dancing, singing, and acting in a musical theater role is learning to perform in all
three realms within the specific framework of a script, songs, and choreographed
movements. Although the act of staging such a work is a form of reenactment and
does not require the generation of original art, the parameters of such a work are
open in many ways, and the child performer has the opportunity to inhabit the work
and make it his or her own. In choral singing, students often become aware of their
contribution to the final version or interpretation of a composition (Silvey 2005).
They are part of something bigger than themselves while making valid and unique
contributions to it, and often they become cognizant of this.
37.5 What Participation in the Performing Arts Can Provide
I have established that for young children, the act of playing occurs naturally and
takes on various forms, one of which is imaginative play. Children appear to benefit
from having the opportunity to play in this manner. More methodical instruction in
the performing arts can and does begin at any age, even very young ages.
As children grow, they often enter some form of structured or formal schooling.
It is at this point that arts activities can be and often are pursued through recurring
instruction. A parent may enroll his child in music lessons on a particular instru-
ment or have the child participate in dance classes for beginners. A child may
audition to be part of a school play. These activities may not be available in every
community and in every culture. Perhaps a skill is passed on through parents or
relatives in an informal but more culturally traditional manner. Regardless of the
mode of transmission, arts activities seem to become more formalized or are
transmitted in an intentional manner as children mature.
Formal training in the performing arts has long been associated with schooling
and the formalized curriculum. With proper guidance, children are capable of
performing with great expertise, yet there are limits to the sophistication of their
performances. It is understood by parents and community members that these are
young artists in the making. When these young artists perform, the expectations are
modified and adults use a different standard than they would for a professional
performance. Parents attend these performances not because they expect
a professional level of artistry but because “. . . the products [of a performance]
are signs that our children have acquired something, and at the same time, have
made something of themselves” (Menck 2000, p. 78). This “something” is precisely
what I would like to explore for the remainder of this chapter.
I propose that engagement in the performing arts contributes to the well-being of
young children by giving them four important occupations or identities. These are
(1) something to do, (2) somewhere to be, (3) someone to be, (4) and something of
their own. These could also be labeled as activity, belonging, identity, and
1094 P.E. Silvey
ownership. At first read, these offerings may seem nondescript undertakings that
could be fulfilled by nonarts activities. However, I maintain that pursuits in the
performing arts offer unique and important ways to provide these opportunities for
children and will yield the developmental and culturally rich benefits that I have
outlined earlier. Let me briefly summarize what I mean by each.
Participation in the performing arts gives children something valuable and
important to do. They may be faced with numerous options regarding how they
will spend their time. Children can find ways to pass time that may have little or no
lasting value. “Doing” arts means doing something that is potentially charged with
meaning and cultural value. In addition, the doing typically results in outcomes that
can be sensed by others, often as formal or informal performances. An activity that
is focused toward a goal can supply a rich opportunity for the productive use of
time. The temporal dimension of the performing arts provides a meaningful way for
children to structure and utilize their time. More importantly, the end result is
culturally valued in ways that reinforce that this was time well spent.
The spatial dimension of the performing arts means there must be a designated
place for their pursuit. A child who participates in the performing arts has some-
where to be. This means they associate an activity with a place that welcomes them
and allows them to feel a sense of belonging. When a child knows that, on a regular
basis, s/he will be an expected participant fully included in an activity, this provides
a sense of safety and belonging. Providing a location where a child can safely
explore and cultivate her artistic capabilities allows the child the needed means to
devote energy and time to such pursuits.
A child can also find a sense of self in pursuing a skills-based performing art
form. A child who plays the piano is a pianist. The child who acts is an actor. These
titles contribute to how a child views himself or herself. The roles children occupy
begin to help them form personal identities. Because these pursuits are culturally
valued, they enable the child, by association, to also feel culturally valued and see
herself as a contributing member of the culture. It is true that we are human beings
rather than human doings, but the actions we take (especially those that
are purposeful and role-based) help clarify and define who we are. The social
dimension of the performing arts means the child also learns to see herself in
relation to others. The arts provide a structured way for children to relate to one
another and to adults. The act of collaborating as a performing artist provides
a purpose that brings children together. This shared pursuit serves as the joint
activity that allows children to build and cultivate relationships.
Finally, children who engage in performing arts have something to call their
own. The adult world may not allow them many things they can possess in this
manner. The art I generate through movement, singing, or dancing is my own
creation. I possess control over it, and it comes from me. Because the art I create or
recreate comes from me, it is a unique expression of me. In that way, it is my own.
This link between output and identity results in a potential sense of vulnerability
and therefore requires a safe, protected environment. The way a child’s artistic
creation is received reflects upon the child’s self-worth.
As stated before, the four functions I have suggested that the arts fulfill can be
filled by other pursuits. Perhaps the important difference in artistic pursuits is
the potential they have to reflect and contribute to cultural values as they can only
be expressed through these artistic mediums. That is, the kinds of activities,
locations, identities, and possessions that result from engagement with the arts
are important and unique in their contributions to the well-being of children
involved.
37.6 Conclusion
In this chapter, I have demonstrated that the actions of a playing child embody the
genesis of many forms of creative performing that may follow. These kinds of
pursuits, even when undertaken on the smallest scale, provide an important means
for children to feel secure, happy, and guided by a sense of purpose.
Philosophers and scholars in the fields of philosophy, child psychology, cogni-
tive science, arts, and education support the premise that artistic endeavors offer an
important avenue for children to safely venture beyond themselves. This begins
with imaginative play, which in turn may develop into artistic play. This kind of
expressive and communicative play offers rich rewards for the growing child and
often leads to sustained study in one or more of the performing arts. Music, dance,
and theater each offer unique opportunities and means for sensory responsiveness
and forms of self-expression. The child who is engaged in a performing art has
found a meaningful and stylized way to engage with the world and make sense of it,
on her own terms, through her own voice. She makes productive use of time in
a venue where she feels safe and accepted. She discovers who she is through the
practice of her art, and she creates artistic works that only she could create. These
rich rewards can be found only in such pursuits.
The old adage that “children must play” may be more than just an aphorism. If
a growing child is to move in an outward direction, that is, to express and expand
the realm of perception and understanding beyond the immediate and the literal,
that child must engage in forms of play. Imaginative, improvisational, and artistic
forms of play have the potential to blossom into full-blown artistic pursuits and
performances. The value of these endeavors is rich in potential, waiting to be
discovered by all who are given the chance to play. As Winnicott (1971) notes,
“It is in playing and only in playing that the individual child or adult is able to be
creative and to use the whole personality, and it is only in being creative that the
individual discovers self” (p. 54). The child who plays artistically and pursues one
or more of the performing arts has enriched opportunities for activity, belonging,
identity, and ownership. Each of these opportunities contributes to the well-being of
the child and ultimately to the quality of that child’s life.
Acknowledgments I wish to express my sincere thanks to Liora Bresler, Donna Brink Fox, Marie
McCarthy, and Andrew Wall for their thoughtful comments and contributions to this chapter.
1096 P.E. Silvey
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Section VI
Spirituality and Religion
Relation of Spiritual Development to
Youth Health and Well-Being: Evidence 38
from a Global Study
Peter C. Scales, Amy K. Syvertsen, Peter L. Benson,

Eugene C. Roehlkepartain, and Arturo Sesma, Jr.
38.1 Introduction
The extant research suggests that religiosity and spirituality are linked to numerous
indicators of youth well-being, including lower rates of adolescent delinquency,
substance use, pregnancy, violence, depression, and suicide, and higher rates of
exercise, healthy eating habits, and seat belt use, among other outcomes (e.g.,
Kim and Esquivel 2011; Yonker et al. 2012; Mahoney et al. 2006; King and Benson
2006; Oman and Thoresen 2006; Cotton et al. 2006; Jones et al. 2005). However,
the research is not always consistent. For example, Cotton and colleagues (2005)
found a positive association between the importance of religion and depressive
symptoms (which the researchers attributed to depressed youth seeking support in
religious communities), and Sallquist et al. (2010) reported a similar
positive association between spirituality and loneliness in their sample of Indone-
sian adolescents. Despite some inconsistencies (which can often be explained with
further examination), the great majority of the research clearly demonstrates
a positive linkage between religiosity, spirituality, and youth health and well-being.
For example, Scales (2007b) analyzed data collected from over 148,000 US
teens that examined their values and involvement in youth development activities,
Peter L. Benson: deceased

P.C. Scales (*)
Search Institute, Manchester, MO, USA
A.K. Syvertsen • E.C. Roehlkepartain
Search Institute, Minneapolis, MN, USA
P.L. Benson
A. Sesma, Jr.
St. Catherine University, St. Paul, MN, USA

1102 P.C. Scales et al.
including religious participation (time spent weekly in a church, synagogue,

mosque, or other religious or spiritual place) and the importance of being religious
or spiritual. In this sample, 58 % of youth reported weekly participation in religious
activities and 50 % indicated that being religious or spiritual is “quite” or
“extremely” important to them. Young people’s religious and spiritual commit-
ments were linked to lower levels of a wide range of high-risk behaviors and to
higher levels of thriving behaviors (Scales 2007b). Actively religious young people
were, on average, 39 % less likely to engage in high-risk behaviors, including: use
of tobacco, illicit drugs, and alcohol, problems in school, demonstrations of anti-
social behavior, and drinking alcohol and driving. Furthermore, actively religious
youth were, on average, 26 % more likely to exhibit thriving behaviors, including:
being high academic achievers, using nonviolent means to resolve conflicts, rating
themselves as being in good health, and being leaders (Scales 2007b).
These findings echo similar conclusions reached in examining the importance of
religion and frequency of attending religious services on well-being outcomes among
a different sample of 216,000 American youth (Benson et al. 2005). The results
similarly revealed that religious youth scored lower on risk behaviors and higher on
thriving behaviors with these associations generalizing across gender and racial-
ethnic subgroups. Additional analysis showed that the two religiosity indicators
(importance; service participation) appeared to be more strongly related to the
thriving outcomes than the risk outcomes. Moreover, the religiosity indicators
appeared to have an additive affect, such that youth who were high on both religious
importance and service attendance were consistently better off than youth who were
high on just one of the religiosity indicators, who in turn were better off than youth
who were low on both. A longitudinal extension of this research (see Scales 2007a)
found that young people who were religiously active in middle school were less likely
to engage in high-risk behaviors 3 years later when they were in high school.
Thus, these data from quite large and diverse samples of US middle and high
school students suggest that both formal participation in a religious community and
valuing spirituality may have important causal relationships with youth well-being,
as reflected in positive outcomes such as delay of sexual intercourse, prevention of
school problems, and development of leadership skills, resistance skills, and the
ability to overcome adversity. Religious involvement in middle school, more so
than being spiritual, may have a positive effect on later alcohol, tobacco, and illicit
drug use, and on informal helping of others, as well as youths’ valuing of diversity.
And being spiritual in middle school may have more of an impact than being
involved in a religious community on antisocial behavior, gambling, and engage-
ment in violence, and school success later on in high school (see Scales 2007a).
Still, it is important not to overstate the possible influence of religiosity and
spirituality. Regression analyses show that when considered alone, apart from any
other influences in a young person’s world, religious community and spirituality each
explained only about 3–5 % of the variation in indexes of risk and thriving
(see Benson et al. 2005; Scales 2007a). Similarly, in a meta-analysis of 75 studies,
Yonker et al. (2012) reported that spiritual-religious measures had relatively small
effect sizes of roughly .11– .17 on various psychosocial and risk behavior outcomes.
38 Relation of Spiritual Development to Youth Health and Well-Being 1103
In contrast, the Developmental Assets (relationships, opportunities, values, skills, and

self-perceptions that promote adolescent well-being; see Benson et al. 1998, 2011;
Benson and Scales 2011; Scales 2012, ▶ Chap. 56, “Developmental Assets and the
Promotion of Well-Being in Middle Childhood”, this volume) explain about 57 % of
the variance in the risk index (Leffert et al. 1998), and 47–54 % of the variance in
the thriving index, across six different racial-ethnic groups of young people
(Scales et al. 2000).
Many other studies support the conclusion that single factors alone do not explain
much of young person’s well-being. Rather, multiple influences operate in multiple
parts of a young person’s world, and over multiple points in time, to promote positive
youth development (Benson et al. 2006). Additionally, it is important to note that
the associations between religious community and spirituality on risk behaviors and
thriving indicators weaken or disappear when previous levels of risk and thriving are
included in the models (see Scales 2007a). It is quite likely that the religious
community and spirituality variables as defined in these studies exert their impact
through their contribution to concurrent levels of risk and thriving, which in turn
are the key predictors of later levels of risk and thriving. But even when so qualified,
religiosity and spirituality clearly play an important role in youth well-being.
38.1.1 How Might Religious and Spiritual Factors Influence Youth

Well-Being?
A variety of mechanisms have been discussed as possible contributors to the

relationship between youth spiritual development and well-being. Callaghan
(2005) explained the connection between adolescents’ religious involvement and
healthy behaviors in terms of the influence spiritual growth has on youths’ building
a capacity to take care of themselves, an element of self-regulation. Josephson and
Dell (2004) attributed the link between religiosity and lower levels of premarital
sex to religious youths’ negative attitudes toward sex before marriage. Nooney
(2005) and many others have discussed how religious involvement helps create
social support networks which serve as a source of protection for young people.
Similarly, Barrett (2010) reported that the Black church in particular may provide
for urban African-American youth a source of cultural capital that helps them
navigate the educational system, as well as moral directives that sustain in youth
a religious motivation for doing well in school. More religious families also have
been described as creating more cohesive family environments in which effective
parental monitoring is more likely (Manlove et al. 2006). Religious or spiritual
families may also influence their children through positive communication, as in
Desrosiers et al. (2010), who reported that the effect of youths’ personal relation-
ship with God on a variety of measures of psychopathology appeared to be
influenced by maternal openness to discussing spirituality and religion. Studying
another contextual influence, French and colleagues (2011) found that religiosity
protected both boys and girls against antisocial behavior, but only for males did the
religiosity of friends and peer networks add to that protection.
Johnson’s (2008) expansive review of more than 500 academic articles on the
impact of “organic religion” (as distinguished from “institutional religion”) on
people’s lives (primarily adults) gives a sense of the mechanisms by which the
positive effects of religion and spirituality may be occurring. Taken together, the
research shows that components of “organic religion” that protect against health
risks such as injury, hypertension, depression, suicide, unsafe sexual behaviors,
alcohol and other drug use, and delinquency are also associated with a variety of
prosocial factors, such as longevity, civic engagement, well-being, hope, purpose,
meaning in life, self-esteem, and educational attainment. Johnson (2008) concluded
that “the beneficial relationship between religion and health behaviors and outcomes
is not simply a result of religion’s constraining function or what it discourages . . .
but also of what it encourages, namely, behaviors that can enhance hope, well-being,
or educational attainment” (p. 198). Thus, a thorough understanding of how spiritual
development may influence adolescent health requires examining spirituality’s
relation to indicators of positive youth development beyond the basic avoidance
of risk behaviors.
Olson-Ritt and colleagues (2004) theorized that spirituality leads to prosocial
coping skills, which in turn lead to reductions in risky behavior, such as Knight
et al.’s (2007) finding that forgiveness (feeling forgiven by God and forgiving
others) had a strong relationship to lower alcohol use among adolescents. Similarly,
in Scales’ (2007b) study of racially, ethnically, and socioeconomically diverse
youth, levels of religious participation and importance were meaningfully corre-
lated with other important developmental resources and strengths—relationships,
opportunities, values, skills, and self-perceptions—known as Developmental
Assets ® (Benson 2006). For example, religiously active and spiritual youth were
at least 60 % more likely to experience the assets of “community values youth,”
“youth as resources,” “service to others,” “creative activities,” and the value of
“restraint.” And they were 50–59 % more likely to experience the assets of “positive
family communication,” “a caring neighborhood,” “a caring school climate,” “parent
involvement in schooling,” and time spent in “youth programs” (Scales 2007b).
These associations lend support to the hypothesis that religiosity and spirituality may
affect adolescent health and well-being through a variety of processes that influence
attitudes, values, skills, constructive use of time, and social relationships.
A fairly recent line of inquiry supports the hypothesis that developmental assets
(in particular, religious contexts that function as asset-building resources) mediate
the influence of religion (Benson et al. 2012a). A recent analysis provides strong
evidence that religious engagement does enhance the developmental asset land-
scape (Wagener et al. 2003). The authors argue that religious engagement, then,
wields its influence via building developmental strengths. A related study, using
a national sample of 614 adolescents (ages 12–17), provides strong evidence that
frequency of attendance at worship services enhances positive engagement with
adults outside of one’s family (Scales et al. 2003). Such networks of adult relation-
ships can be powerful influences on both risk behaviors and thriving (Scales and
Leffert 2004). Consistent with this reasoning, Kerestes et al. (2004) suggest that
religious engagement promotes social integration into adult relationships and
prosocial values. Tracking four religious development trajectories during the high
school years, they found that stable or upward trajectories were associated with
greater civic participation and less alcohol and other drug use in comparison to
peers on low or downward trajectories.
38.1.2 Adequacy of the Youth Spiritual Development and

Well-Being Literature
Within the social sciences generally, there is a paucity of research on youth spiritual
development. Several years ago, Search Institute researchers quantified this over-
sight (Benson et al. 2003). Searches were conducted on two broad social
science databases, Social Science Abstracts and Psych-INFO, to determine the
extent to which spirituality and religion in childhood and adolescence were being
addressed by the research community. Less than 1 % of the child and adolescent
articles cataloged in the two databases (from 1990 to 2002) addressed issues of
spirit or religion. Furthermore, when the search was limited to six premier
developmental journals, the attention to spiritual development drops still further.
Only one article in 13 years (1990–2002) addressed this dimension in childhood
or adolescence. An unpublished update we conducted through Academic
Search Premier in 2010, the world’s largest academic multidisciplinary database,
found that this dearth of research on youth spiritual development persists: From
2002 to 2010, only.07 % of peer-reviewed journal articles (4,000 out of 5.47
million) contained the keywords spirit, spirituality, or religion, and child/children
or adolescents. Published accounts confirm that the limited attention to youth
spiritual development continues in top tier developmental psychology journals.
King and Roeser (2009) replicated the Benson et al. (2003) search, for the years
2002–2008, and found that only 1.3 % of peer-reviewed papers in the top
six developmental psychology journals in that period focused on religion or
spirituality, much less referencing “adolescence” or “youth” religious or spiritual
development.
Obviously, studies addressing youth spirituality and well-being are only
a percentage of this tiny foundational database. Similarly, an examination of the
Duke University Center for Spirituality, Theology, and Health web pages yielded
more than 300 abstracts of studies linking various aspects of religiosity or spiritu-
ality to health outcomes, but less than 10 of the cited studies included adolescents
and young adults in the samples. Oser et al. (2006) noted that more than 350 studies
had been done on the relationship between religiosity and physical health, and more
than 850 between religiosity and mental health, but as suggested above, only
a small percentage of these involved samples of youth. Oman and Thoresen
(2006) also concluded that the evidence is now “persuasive” that religious partic-
ipation is related to lower all-cause mortality among large population samples of
adults, but that “there is strikingly little empirical research” (p. 402) on direct
links to morbidity and mortality among preadult samples. Although, as Kim and
Esquivel (2011) note, there has been a more recent upswing of interest in
spirituality and religious influences on adolescent well-being, the evidence con-

tinues to suggest that the great majority of studies still have investigated these
dynamics among older adults more so than among young people.
A second problem with extant research linking youth spirituality and well-being
is that, in the existing research, religiosity and spirituality are often assumed to be
interchangeable and/or used as synonyms, when what is typically measured is
religiosity. Some studies have broadened the operational definitions to include
spirituality variables (such as the UCLA study of the nation’s entering college
freshmen, Calderone (2005), or Kim and Esquivel (2011), who specifically note the
distinction between the influence of spirituality and that of religion on well-being
outcomes in their review of the research), but these remain the exception. More
typical examples are Sinha et al. (2007), and Smith and Denton (2005). Sinha and
colleagues used a telephone poll to survey a national sample of adolescents about
risk behaviors, but used typical measures of religiosity as the independent variables:
importance of religion, and attendance at religious organizations. Sinha and
colleagues improved the measure of attendance by separately investigating worship
service attendance from participation in other programs offered by religious
organizations (such as recreational sports leagues), but no measures of spirituality
as a construct distinct from religiosity were used. Indeed, a recent extensive study
of religion and family life flatly stated that spirituality is a “function of religion”
(Mahoney 2010, p. 810, emphasis added).
Similarly, Smith and Denton’s (2005) National Study of Youth and Religion on
the spiritual lives of adolescents is a landmark study in its sampling and breadth, but
it is focused on religious life, not on spirituality. Substantively, even though 81 % of
adolescents said that their faith was “important” or “very important,” these over-
arching patterns should not be interpreted as evidence that religious and spiritual
commitments are deeply and intentionally embedded in the lives of US children.
Smith and Denton argue that “what appears to be the actual dominant religion
among U.S. teenagers is centrally about feeling good, happy, secure, at peace”
(p. 164). Hence, one might conclude that the USA is a culture that is imbued with an
overall religious milieu that forms overall beliefs and attitudes, but that does not
necessarily translate into deep personal commitments among young people.
Although many of those 81 % who said their religious faith was “important” to
them doubtless do consider their religious beliefs meaningful, Smith concludes that
a far fewer proportion, only about 8 % of US teenagers, are truly “the devoted” for
whom religious participation and commitment are central to life. It is no wonder
then, that using traditional religiosity measures as predictors usually yields quite
limited variance explained in youth well-being outcomes. More recently, Yonker
et al. (2012) discussed a meta-analysis of studies on the influence of “spiritual-
religious” variables on youth and young adult outcomes, but all but one of the
measures (what they called “searching”) focused on the religious aspects of spiri-
tual development. In fact, they recommended that researchers limit their “spiritual-
religious” measures to the traditional ones of church attendance and the salience of
religious belief, in part because they argued that “non-religious spirituality is rare”
(p. 308). And yet, we have found (Benson et al. 2012b) that the majority of youth in
a global sample from eight countries pursued their spiritual development without
recourse to deep engagement in religious or spiritual practices.
A final measurement weakness in the youth spiritual and religious development
literature is noted by Hill and Hood (1999), who identified numerous religiosity
scales used in previous research (mostly with adults), but also noted that most had
been used once or only a few times, leaving judgments about “their validity in terms
of meaningful coherence within a systematic theoretical framework” to be “inferred
at best” (p. 7). They also observed that the great majority of existing measures
reflect Christian faith traditions and that the field as a whole reflects largely
American Protestant traditions. Some recent studies have found positive relation-
ships among religiosity and happiness and life satisfaction among Muslim youth in
Kuwait (Abdel-Khalek 2010), and between religiosity and prosocial behavior
among Muslim adolescents in Indonesia (Sallquist et al. 2010). One review (Kim
and Esquivel 2011) concluded that spirituality, as distinct from religion, had shown
a “universal” link with life satisfaction across ethnic groups, but the number of
studies reviewed to support that statement was still only a couple dozen. Mahoney
too (2010), reviewing 184 studies on religion and family life in the period from
1999 to 2009, concluded that most samples were Christian, and only 9 % were
outside the USA. Thus, although representation of diverse faith traditions and
spirituality, as distinct from religion, is increasing, the vast majority of what is
known about youth “spiritual” development and well-being is in fact known only
about the relation of Protestant religiosity to well-being, a fairly limited sampling
even of religious development, much less spiritual development more broadly
conceived.
38.1.3 Recent Definitions and New Theoretical Explorations
Finally, even when spiritual development is expressly considered as a concept

distinct from religion, a plethora of definitions of spirituality have been put forth
(Shek 2012, reported that more than 70 such definitions have been published).
The challenge, of course, is that spirituality and spiritual development are
intrinsically difficult to define. There have been many distinct and useful attempts
to grapple with the terms in the scientific literature (see overview in Benson et al.
2012b). Some of these tie spirituality to the concept of the “sacred” (e.g., Hill et al.
2000; Miller and Thoresen 2003; Pargament 1999), while others focus on
spirituality as a set of human qualities (insight and understanding; an awareness
of the interconnections among and between persons and other life forms;
an experience of mystery and awe; and a posture of generosity and gratitude)
without explicit reference to a sacred or transcendent realm (e.g., Beck 1992;
Roof 1993). A definition is needed that encompasses both of these traditions
in the literature.
The lack of a strong theoretical framework is at the root of much of this previous
definitional confusion. Wong et al. (2006) analysis of literature on the relationship
between spirituality and adolescent health attitudes and behaviors concluded
that the research in this field is “neither conceptually clear nor firmly grounded
in theory” (p. 438). Indeed, of the 43 studies analyzed (most about health
attitudes rather than behavior), 26 were not based on any explicit theoretical or
conceptual model. The study we discuss later in this chapter is based on a new
definition of youth spiritual development that synthesizes and then moves beyond
this previous thinking. A variety of related conceptual and empirical activities have
led us to define spiritual development as a set of core developmental processes that
have not been fully articulated by other streams of development (e.g., cognitive,
social, emotional, moral, and physical). This work continues to evolve. In 2003, for
example, we offered this working definition:
Spiritual development is the process of growing the intrinsic human capacity for self-
transcendence, in which the self is embedded in something greater than the self, including
the sacred. It is the developmental “engine” that propels the search for connectedness,
meaning, purpose and contribution. It is shaped both within and outside of religious
traditions, beliefs and practices. (Benson et al. 2003, pp. 205–206)
This definition stands solidly on the idea that spiritual development is a universal
domain of development that can be informed by ideas and practices that are
theological and/or religious. But, explicit in the definition is the possibility that
spiritual development can also occur independent of religion and/or conceptions of
sacred, ultimate, or alternative forms of reality.
To broaden and continue this theoretical exploration, we engaged a network of
120 advisors (A complete list of the advisors is available from the authors.) from
around the world in a modified, online Delphi process (Roehlkepartain et al. 2008)
to build consensus around the dimensions of spiritual development. The advisors
were spiritual development scholars, theologians, and practitioners, who
represented a great worldwide diversity of faith traditions and cultural contexts.
Through four iterations of the Delphi process in 2007–2008, advisors critiqued and
recommended criteria to shape a definition of spiritual development, ranked poten-
tial dimensions of spiritual development, and offered copious open-ended dis-
courses about spiritual development and the challenges of measuring and defining
the concept.
Emerging from this process was an innovative theoretical framework that
views youth spiritual development as the dynamic interplay of several underlying
developmental processes (see also Benson et al. 2012b; Benson and Roehlkepartain
2008):
(a) Awareness of Self and the World: Developing an awareness of one’s inherent
strength. In some traditions, this process has to do with “awakening” to one’s
true essence or spirit. A variant on this theme is Search Institute’s new work on
“sparks”—the apprehension of what about oneself is “good, beautiful, and
useful” (Benson and Roehlkepartain 2008; Benson and Scales 2009, 2011;
Scales et al. 2011). Other metaphors are commonplace throughout the world for
this phenomenon. This also encompasses developing an awareness of the
beauty, majesty, and wonder of the universe. The experience of awe is forma-
tive here. Though other perceptions of the world are possible, the lens of
a hospitable and benevolent world is instrumental for animating a life toward

strength.
(b) Connecting/Belonging: Developing the perspective that life is interconnected
and interdependent. This idea has deep roots in most of the metaphysical
traditions of the world. It is not lost on us how central the idea has also become
in the biological and physical sciences. Indeed, arguments increasingly
are made that spirituality has a biochemical basis in the neuropeptides
that regulate the human capacity to affiliate or connect (see, for example,
Grigorenko 2012).
(c) Life of Meaning and Contribution: Developing a life orientation grounded
in hope, purpose, and gratitude. These are common and widespread human
aspirations that are simultaneously grounded in the great philosophical,
spiritual, cultural, and religious traditions of the world.
These processes are reflected in other aspects of development (e.g., physical,
social, cognitive, emotional, moral), and draw their content from personal, family,
and community beliefs, values, and practices; culture (language, customs, norms,
symbols) and sociopolitical realities; meta-narratives, traditions, myths, and inter-
pretive frameworks; and other significant life events, experiences, and changes.
These processes may result in cognitive, affective, physical, and social outcomes
that become manifested in either healthy or unhealthy ways.
We have proposed (Benson et al. 2012a) that, although all persons and cultures
engage with each of these processes, they do so in many different ways with
different emphases. Sometimes these dynamics are grounded in an understanding
or experience of transcendence, including an understanding of God, a higher
power, or other transcendent forces. These processes may be active, intentional,
or passive, and each may be emphasized more or less in different stages of
development, different cultures, traditions, and worldviews. Furthermore, consis-
tent with current developmental theories, the use of the term “development”
emphasizes change across time. It does not imply a linear, invariant progression
of universal stages; rather, it suggests a set of core processes that vary in how they
occur. This is consistent with Sroufe’s (1997) “branching pathway” metaphor that
views development as a “succession of branchings” that enable individuals
on different pathways to nevertheless “converge toward similar patterns of
adaptation” (p. 254).
Thus, we propose that spiritual development is potentially a combination of
processes that are relatively more universal (awareness, connecting, living a life of
contribution), which we heuristically term “developmental,” and for many persons,
processes that are more explicitly spiritual or religious, including spiritual
or religious experiences, practices, and identity, processes we describe as
“spiritual-religious engagement.” Some persons develop spiritually without
recourse to specifically spiritual or religious experiences, practices, or sense of
identity, while, for others, spiritual development is a complex interplay of
these developmental and spiritual-religious engagement constructs. Throughout
these processes, we speculate that people engage with mysteries, beauty,
the sacred, or other intangibles of life, including ultimate questions of life
and death, of the nature of the universe, and how they think about God, higher
powers, or the divine.
Extensive input from the international advisors over the Delphi process
suggests that this innovative theoretical approach has face validity across
an extraordinarily broad spectrum of faith traditions and cultures among
those key scholars across five continents (see Roehlkepartain et al. 2008). To our
knowledge, no other theoretical framework has these collective features:
(a) articulates a conception of youth spiritual development that is rooted in
foundational developmental processes; (b) incorporates and allows notions of
a sacred or transcendent force without being dependent upon such concepts;
(c) is developmental without being yoked to traditional “stage” theories of spiritual
development; and, (d) reflects a broad construct validity inherent in its components
being named as consensus elements of youth spiritual development by a large
and culturally diverse group of international experts. Initial descriptive
analyses of the data we report on in this chapter have provided empirical
support for this conceptual framework. For example, the youth spiritual
development processes hypothesized to be more universal—i.e., the developmental
ones—are indeed notably more common among youth in our worldwide
sample than the youth spiritual development processes explicitly involving
engagement with religious or spiritual practices (Benson et al. 2012b).
In addition, latent class analysis showed that the majority of youth in this interna-
tional study engaged in spiritual development without deep connection to religious
or spiritual practices.
38.1.4 The Current Study
The current study uses the same international data set referenced above to investigate
the degree to which this broader conceptualization of youth spiritual development,
that is, a concept that goes beyond religion, provides a significant value-add to
predicting youth well-being outcomes across varied cultural contexts. If spiritual
development constructs beyond traditional religious variables do help to signifi-
cantly explain youth well-being, then additional targets are identified for policy and
programmatic interventions to enhance youth well-being. For example, if aspects of
living one’s life in alignment with one’s spiritual principles and experiences is an
important predictor, actions to help adolescents incorporate those principles
and experiences into their everyday decision making can be suggested for
school health curricula, out-of-school time programs and classes, and mentor
programs in schools, religious organizations, and youth organizations. The more
points of intervention there are to promote positive health and well-being, the
more likely those outcomes become, from lessened likelihood of unsafe sexual
behaviors and alcohol abuse to increased likelihood of civic engagement.
In the rest of this chapter, we examine the degree to which our proposed model
of youth spiritual development—consisting both of developmental processes
and spiritual-religious engagement that neither requires nor precludes religious
influence—relates to youth health and well-being. We use the theoretical approach

of Positive Youth Development (PYD), a developmental systems approach that
emphasizes the bidirectional influence of person and context (Benson et al. 2006),
to frame the investigation. Our focus is on nearly two-dozen indicators of
well-being, including several measures of health risk behaviors (e.g., alcohol
and other drug use, engaging in violence), psychosocial well-being (e.g., purpose,
positive emotionality), civic engagement (e.g., volunteering), and academic
well-being (e.g., school engagement).
38.1.5 Specific Research Questions and Hypotheses
In this chapter, we explore four basic research questions: First, how do

unique developmental and spiritual-religious engagement aspects of youth spiritual
development relate to a range of concurrent psychosocial, physical, civic, and
academic outcomes reflecting youth well-being? Second, do these associations vary
by nation or religious affiliation? Third, how do differences in levels of
the comprehensive Youth Spiritual Development Index relate to youth health
and well-being outcomes? And, finally, what is the relative contribution of the YSD
Index to youth health and well-being over and above demographic characteristics?
38.2 Method
38.2.1 Sample
Young people ages 12–25 were recruited, with the ages in a particular context being
those appropriate for local culture understanding of “youth.” We targeted a roughly
equal distribution of young people ages 12–14, 15–17, and 18–25. Youth from
England and Wales (hereafter referred to as the UK), Cameroon, Canada, India,
Thailand, Australia, and Ukraine completed surveys, in addition to young people
from across the USA. A diverse range of religious traditions (including youth who
do not self-identify as religious), with especially large samples of Christians,
Hindus, and Muslims, were represented. Finally, we obtained a broad range of
socioeconomic and educational backgrounds within each country’s sample. Based
on the advice of our international advisory panel, we attempted to restrict the
sample to young people who were literate in English. Nevertheless, in the case of
two countries, Ukraine and Thailand, significant proportions of the sample were not
proficient in English, and so were given surveys that had been translated into
Russian, Ukrainian, or Thai. After data cleaning, a total of 6,725 youth ages
12–25 participated in the survey. About half the sample was ages 12–17 and half
18–25, and 53 % were females. Table 38.1 displays salient demographic charac-
teristics of the aggregate sample, and by country.
Although representative studies always have particular value, the logistical and
financial challenges of drawing representative samples in multiple countries made
Table 38.1 Sample description, by religion, age, and gender percentages

Country
Australia Cameroon Canada India Thailand Ukraine UK USA Total n Total %
Sample n 661 848 383 1,896 1,027 974 569 367 6,725 –
Religious affiliation
Buddhist 29 9 7 29 0 9 10 8 139 2
Christian 11 19 9 6 18 25 7 7 3,303 49
Hindu 1 <1 <1 90 8 <1 1 0 1,017 15
Muslim 1 22 1 16 57 1 3 <1 600 9
Other 22 4 2 35 0 13 7 18 135 2
religiona
Noneb 17 4 4 39 0 8 21 7 1,192 18
Missing 7 2 7 45 8 10 10 10 339 5
Genderc
Female 10 11 3 26 16 18 10 7 3,496 53
Male 10 14 9 31 15 11 6 4 3,156 47
Aged
12–14 15 16 6 28 19 8 5 4 1,803 29
15–17 14 13 11 21 16 13 6 5 1,377 22
18–21 4 11 2 29 13 21 15 5 1,840 30
22–25 5 9 1 39 11 18 9 8 1,161 19
a
Includes Judaism, Paganism, Sikhism, native or traditional spirituality, and other
b
Combines atheism and agnosticism
c
Total gender percentages based on the 6,652 respondents
d
Total age group percentages based on the 6,181 respondents
them financially and logistically impossible for this study. Thus, we sought diverse
samples within the selected countries, which allowed us to confirm and refine the
theoretical framework and its relationship with well-being outcomes. Furthermore,
because our main interest in this initial study was to look at patterns of relationships
among the components of spiritual development (see Benson et al. 2012b), diverse
but not representative samples were scientifically acceptable.
The survey was administered primarily in a web-based format. This online
method was selected for a variety of reasons, including cost and efficiency in data
collection and sharing; ability to efficiently include open-ended items and skip
patterns; ability to compare sampling across countries; and ability to customize
components of the survey for particular cultural contexts. Because of lack of online
access or infrastructure, paper surveys also were utilized when necessary in several
locations, most notably in Ukraine and Thailand. Questions on sexual behavior are
common in US surveys assessing youths’ risk behaviors, so these items were
included in the US samples, but not in the surveys for other countries. These
parameters yielded an aggregate sample biased toward more educated, affluent,
and urban youth. However, these parameters were in place in an effort to make this
initial survey more feasible within the time and budget available. Despite the
potential limitation of the sample, the large size and diversity of the global sample
allowed for analysis to refine our theoretical framework and offered a unique
dataset linking youth spiritual development and well-being cross-culturally.
38.2.2 Measures
In addition to the already-mentioned Delphi study among international advisors,

several other efforts informed the survey development, adding to its likely construct
validity as a measure of youth spiritual development.
Literature review. We systematically reviewed more than 1,500 articles, chap-
ters, and books relevant to the spiritual development of children and adolescents.
Five sources served as the foundational references for survey development, collec-
tively including the research of scores of leading spiritual development scholars, as
well as international and multi-faith perspectives on spirituality, including Dowling
and Scarlett 2006; King et al. 2005; Oser et al. 2006; Roehlkepartain et al. 2006;
and, Yust et al. 2006. In addition, an initial bibliography of more than 800 other
articles, chapters, and books on childhood and adolescent spiritual development
was generated, and a number of seminal sources among those were reviewed (e.g.,
Hill and Pargament 2003; MacDonald 2000; Piedmont 1999; Smith 2003). Using
the Benson et al. (2003) definition of spiritual development as a guide, we carefully
reviewed these sources to catalog the descriptions they contained of spiritual
development constructs (as well as to identify existing spiritual development
instruments). Our review of this literature suggests that spiritual development has
elements of an integrative process all along in development, and that aspects of
spiritual development are present in the other domains of development as well.
That is, spiritual development is affected by cognitive development, emotional
development, personality/identity development, social development, and
moral development, inasmuch as these dimensions of development are also
informed by spiritual development. However, it is also our hypothesis that
spiritual development is not reducible to other domains of development; that is,
our model of spiritual development adds value to a developmental understanding
not already informed by more widely developmental processes such as social
development.
In our approach, the “value-add” of spiritual development to understanding
of human development is its integrative role from the beginning of life, and then,
its unique role as the domain of development involving engagement with
the transcendent. Exposure to religious belief and ritual/practices can speed up
and in other ways shape this process, but because spiritual development is grounded
in the other common domains of human development, it can occur without
exposure to religion/faith traditions, or can continue without continued connection
to a faith tradition.
Focus groups. We conducted a series of more than 80 focus groups involving
455 youth ages 12–19 in 13 countries on multiple continents that explored how
young people, parents/guardians, and adults who work with youth understand
spiritual development. The countries represented were Australia, Canada, China,

India, Israel, Kenya, Malta, Nigeria, Peru, South Africa, Syria, the UK, and the
USA. The participants also self-identified with a broad range of religious traditions:
Buddhism, Christianity (Roman Catholic, Orthodox, Protestant and Reform),
Hinduism, Judaism, Islam, Sikhism, and no religious affiliation.
Review of existing scales. We collected and reviewed more than 100 previous
measures of dimensions of spiritual development, and drew from those instruments
items that had integrity with our comprehensive theoretical framework of youth
spiritual development. These include well-known measures such as Underwood’s
Daily Spiritual Experiences scale (Underwood and Teresi 2002), Paloutzian
and Ellison’s Spiritual Well-Being scale (Ellison 1983), the Fetzer Institute
series of brief measures (John E. Fetzer Institute 2003), Allport and Ross’s
Religious Orientation Scale (Allport and Ross 1967), MacDonald’s Expression
of Spirituality Inventory (MacDonald 2000), and items from Smith’s national
study of youth and religion (Smith and Denton 2005). Additionally, numerous
items were identified from previous Search Institute surveys such as the Faith
Formation Survey (Search Institute 1992) and Survey of Congregational Life
(Search Institute 1990).
Spiritual exemplar interviews. We conducted in-depth interviews with about
20 youth in multiple countries who have been nominated as “exemplars” of spiritual
thriving (based on criteria derived from the theory and in dialogue with advisors
and informants). Interviews were conducted with the selected exemplar nominees
in the USA, India, Kenya, Peru, Jordan, and the UK. This sample includes multiple
religious traditions as well as young people who do not consider themselves to be
religious (King et al. 2008).
Secondary analyses. We engaged in an extensive secondary analysis of the
database from the World Values Study (Iglehart et al. 2004). Although adolescents
were not included in this global research, young adults over age 18 were. The
differences in response patterns across culture and geography helped illuminate
directions to take in our international survey design to increase the likelihood of it
being cross-culturally valid. As well, several questions from the World Values
Study were used in the Youth Spiritual Development Survey to provide useful
contextual information for interpreting findings.
Measure of youth spiritual development. As yielded through the modified
Delphi process, the consensus of our international advisors was that the following
were the most important and potentially universal, developmental elements of
youth spiritual development:
• Experiencing a sense of empathy, responsibility, and/or love for others, for
humanity, and for the world
• Finding significance in relationships to others, the world, or one’s sense of the
transcendent
• Finding, accepting, or creating deeper significance and meaning in everyday
experiences and relationships
• Accepting, seeking, creating, or experiencing a reason for being or a sense of
meaning or purpose
• Being present to oneself, others, the world, and/or one’s sense of transcendent
reality
• Living in awareness of something beyond the immediate everyday of life
• Forming a worldview regarding major life questions, such as the purpose of
existence, life and death, and the existence or nonexistence of the divine or God
• Engaging in relationships, activities, and/or practices that shape bonds with
oneself, family, community, humanity, the world, and/or that which one believes
to be transcendent
• Living out one’s beliefs, values, and commitments in daily life
• Experiencing or cultivating hope, meaning, or resilience in the face of hardship,
conflict, confusion, or suffering
If these truly are essential to an understanding of spiritual development
(and some advisors in some faith or cultural traditions disagreed with some of
these being so critical, and rated other possible elements as more important),
then the survey needed to contain a sufficient number of items so that each of
these elements could be reliably and validly measured across contexts, cultures,
and traditions. We tried to achieve this aim in developing the Youth Spiritual
Development survey.
These activities and the development of new items stimulated by the new theory
of youth spiritual development collectively generated more than 500 potential items
measuring the constructs named in our preliminary dynamic model of spiritual
development. Existing items generally were selected for the pool if they measured
a named construct in our model, comprised a scale of acceptable reliability, and/or
were usable as is or with slight modification in an international, multi-faith context.
Unless they could be readily revised for more general application, items specific to
particular religious traditions generally were not included in this initial pool.
The final survey contained approximately 150 items measuring spiritual
development constructs that fit under the categories of Awareness of Self and the
World, Connecting/Belonging, and Life of Meaning and Contribution, as well as
items tapping the “spiritual-religious engagement” processes. Additional items
included demographic and contextual questions and questions on the health and
well-being outcomes. About half of the items were taken in whole or revised from
our deep exposure to the spiritual development literature, thereby substantially
representing previous work, and about half of the items were newly created to
reflect our new theoretical framework of youth spiritual development, thereby
substantially building on and expanding previous scientific work.
Preliminary factor analyses. Multi-Group Confirmatory Factor Analysis
(MGCFA) was conducted to test the fit of the Youth Spiritual Development
model overall and for each of the eight countries. The MGCFA results never met
criterion-level goodness of fit indices (CFIs above at least.80 and RMSEAs below
at least.08). A number of explanations could contribute to such a result, including
wide divergence in country sample sizes, the work of contextual moderators such as
the differing religious affiliations reflected, and the multiple different kinds of items
pulled together in the survey (e.g., attitudes and behaviors, experiences and beliefs,
clearly religious items, and clearly nonreligious items). Over time, our conclusion is
that perhaps the overriding issue contributing to lack of MGCFA model confirma-
tion was that the theory was simply not well developed enough to be subjected to
the CFA goodness of fit requirements. Although much rhetorical work has been
done on the theories of youth spiritual development, the item development did not
adequately reflect the theory, because the theory advanced here took firmer shape
only well after the data had been collected. Thus, we began analysis anew by using
an exploratory approach.
The items used in the Exploratory Factor Analysis (EFA) included those that the
research team had previously identified, a priori, as appropriate measures of the
emerging theoretical youth spiritual development constructs (these heuristic mea-
sures had acceptable alpha reliabilities across various moderators, such as country
and religious affiliation), plus items that the various rounds of MGCFA had most
consistently suggested cluster in factors relatively well aligned with those theoret-
ical constructs. We separated the analysis into two EFAs, one for the developmental
process items reflecting aspects of youth spiritual development hypothesized to be
more “universal,” and the other for the spiritual-religious engagement items that
more explicitly measured “spiritual” or “religious” content. Eight developmental
factors were identified, accounting for 55 % of the variance, and nine spiritual-
religious engagement factors were identified, accounting for 54 % of the variance in
that set of items. However, some of the empirically constituted factors were quite
difficult to conceptually interpret. We then examined each factor more carefully at
the item level.
Diagnostics (the KMO measure of sampling adequacy) showed that the items
were sufficiently independent of each other to justify conducting the EFA. The
KMO statistic for each of the two EFAs was >.90, well above the typical KMO
criterion of .60. Despite the favorable diagnostics, however, there was
a considerable amount of cross-loading of items on multiple factors. Therefore,
where cross-loading occurred, we reassigned certain items to other factors where
they appeared to make more conceptual sense, and dropped items that were more
weakly loaded (i.e., <.40 loading on the factor). This process yielded a more
interpretable and coherent set of 10 developmental and spiritual-religious engage-
ment scales. Alphas were calculated for the total sample, as well as by gender, six
categories of religious affiliation (including “none”), the eight countries, and two
age groups (12–17 and 18–25; there were no alpha differences by the four original
age groups—12–14, 15–17, 18–21, and 22–25—so the four were combined for ease
of analysis).
Collectively, the scales worked least well with Muslim youth, and youth from
Cameroon.
However, the majority of the scales had acceptable to excellent internal consis-
tency across nearly all categories of gender, age, religious affiliation, and country.
The developmental processes we label Connecting with Others through Prosocial
Beliefs and Actions, Discovering Meaning, and Mindfulness had alphas mostly in
the.70s–.80s across all groups. Alignment of Values with Action is a partially
promising scale, with most alphas in the.60s (but <.60, and not promising, for
Muslims, or for youth in Cameroon and India). The spiritual-religious engagement
scales we label Apprehension of God/Force, Spiritual-Religious Practices, and

Spiritual Experiences hold together as scales quite well across nearly all categories
of youth. Spirituality in Action had promising to acceptable reliabilities for all
groups but Muslim youth. And Spiritual-Religious Identity was a promising or
acceptably reliable measure for all youth but Buddhists, Muslims, and those from
Cameroon. It is conceptually important to disentangle “spirituality” and “religion,”
and because our theory does so, it was somewhat surprising that Spiritual-Religious
Practice, and Spiritual-Religious Identity, were scales comprised of items that
collectively measured both spirituality and religion. Empirically, at least in the
way we have measured these concepts among youth, spirituality and religion,
apparently, are at least moderately correlated and not so readily disentangled.
Nevertheless, in order to investigate further whether measuring “spirituality” brings
an empirical value-add to traditional measures of religious engagement and iden-
tity, we separated those two scales into their spiritual and religious components for
selected analyses. We also include two additional single-item measures in the
model to gauge young people’s self-perception of change in their religiosity and
spirituality over the past 2–3 years.
Youth Spiritual Development Index. To comprehensively capture the devel-
opmental and spiritual-religious engagement aspects of our model, we created
a Youth Spiritual Development (YSD) Index. To construct the YSD Index scores,
we applied algorithms for creating high, medium, and low groups for each of
the individual 13 developmental and spiritual-religious engagement constructs.
For each construct on which a participant got a “high” score (representing roughly
the top third of possible scores for that individual construct), we assigned them 3
Index points; for a medium score, we gave them 2 Index points; and for each low
score, youth were given 1 Index point. We then summed the points for each case
across his/her 13 constructs to obtain the individual’s YSDI score, which could then
range from 13 to 39. We divided the resulting distribution of YSD Index scores into
high, medium, and low thirds.
Youth health and well-being outcomes. We employed a tripartite measurement
of youth health and well-being that includes risk reduction and prevention, self-
perceptions of health status, and thriving and other positive indicators of well-
being. We examined the linkage of youth spiritual development to outcomes in four
domains: (a) academic (school engagement; achieving high grades); (b) physical
well-being (positive feelings about own health; avoiding substance use and vio-
lence; resolving conflicts peacefully); (c) psychosocial well-being (thriving; not
depressed; positive emotionality; feel emotionally safe—i.e., not picked on due to
their religion); and, (d) civic engagement (hours volunteer/week; environmental
stewardship). Together, these served as core indicators of youths’ well-being. Two
of these indicators of positive youth development, civic engagement and positive
emotionality, have been linked to a variety of other indicators of well-being (Post
2007). For example, civic engagement and volunteerism have been related to
a variety of positive health outcomes, including reduced substance use, engagement
in delinquency and violence, and less involvement in teen pregnancy, as well as
increased self-esteem, increased social competence, and increased problem-solving
skills among those who volunteer, compared to those who do not volunteer (see
reviews in Scales and Leffert 2004, and Benson et al. 2006). Positive emotionality
has been found to be a key factor distinguishing individuals who are psychosocially
thriving or flourishing (Fredrickson and Losada 2005), and is related to better
physical health as well, at least in part because positive emotions reduce stress
and stress-related effects on the immune system (Marques and Sternberg 2007).
Because the principal focus of our international study of youth spiritual devel-
opment was on the development of theoretically grounded and psychometrically
sound measures, our health and well-being outcome measures were kept brief.
Although they are largely single-item measures, each has been shown to be
moderately predicted by ecological assets such as caring adults, safe places, and
civic opportunities that reflect some of the mechanisms by which YSD may
influence youth well-being (see Benson and Scales 2009, 2011; Scales et al.
2008, 2011). Single-item measures of spiritual well-being, coping, happiness,
empathy, self-awareness, forgiveness, and gratitude were developed specifically
for use in this study. Tables 38.2 (youth spiritual development measures) and 38.3
(outcomes) provide a summary of study measures.
38.2.2.1 Analysis Plan

We first examined the associations between the developmental process and
spiritual-religious engagement measures of youth spiritual development and the
outcomes, for the entire sample, and then by gender, age group, religious affiliation,
and country, in order to determine whether the pattern of zero-order associations
was comparable across these subgroups. Next, we conducted a series of ANOVAs
comparing outcome means for those youth with high, medium, and low YSD Index
scores, and then ANCOVAs controlling for country and religious affiliation (for the
purposes of brevity, we report only the ANCOVA results here). The three YSD Index
groups were then compared on their mean scores (standardized to a mean of 0 and
a standard deviation of 1) on each of the health and well-being outcomes. Due to the
large number of outcomes, a Bonferonni correction was applied to the ANCOVAs to
control for Type I errors, setting the p value for significance at .002 rather than .05.
Finally, we conducted regressions predicting each of the 21 outcomes with the
continuous YSD Index scores, after first entering religion and country as controls.
38.3 Results
38.3.1 Correlations Among Youth Spiritual Development

Constructs and Well-Being
Tables 38.4 and 38.5 show the correlations among the developmental process and
spiritual-religious engagement constructs and the 21 well-being outcomes. Two
conclusions may be drawn from the patterns across these associations. First, the
vast majority of the coefficients are in the direction predicted, i.e., the more youth
report spiritual development, as reflected by these constructs, the better their
Table 38.2 Youth spiritual development measures

a range across
# of nations
Measures items (total a) Example item
Developmental processes
Connecting with others 6 .72–.86 (.80) How true of you is the following?
through prosocial beliefs I help people who are in need.
and actions
Discovering meaning 10 .67–.88 (.84) How true of you is the following?
Try to understand life’s big questions,
like why we are here, or
what happens to us after we die
Mindfulness 3 .60–.83 (.72) How true of you is the following?
I pay attention to what is happening in the
present moment
Alignment of values with 2 .43–.80 (.64) In last 12 months, how often have you done
action or experienced the following?
Been guided in how I think and act in
everyday life by my beliefs or philosophy of
life.
Spiritual-religious engagement
Apprehension of God/Force 7 .52–.94 (.85) How often have you experienced the
following?
Felt very close to a powerful spiritual
force (such as God,
Allah, Great Spirit, etc.)
Spiritual practices 5 .81–.94 (.78) In last 12 months, how often have you done
or experienced the following?
Regularly prayed, meditated, studied, or
done other things to deepen my life
Religious practices 6 (.81–.94) (.84) In last 12 months, how often have you done
Attended religious worship or prayer
services
Spiritual experiences 6 .52–.84 (.76) Do you believe that you . . .
Have experienced God or some other
mysterious presence
Spirituality in action 4 .54–.88 (.70) In last 12 months, how often have you done
Set goals in life based on my beliefs or
my philosophy of life
Spiritual identity 1 – In general, I consider myself to be . . .
– Not a spiritual person.
– Sort of a non-spiritual person.
– Sort of a spiritual person.
– A pretty spiritual person.
– A very spiritual person.
(continued)

a range across
# of nations
Measures items (total a) Example item
Religious identity 1 – In general, I consider myself to be . . .
– Not a religious person
– Sort of a nonreligious person
– Sort of a religious person
– A pretty religious person
– A very religious person
Change in spiritual identity 1 – During the PAST 2–3 YEARS, have the
following experiences increased, decreased,
or stayed about the same in your life?
The importance of my spiritual life
Change in religious identity 1 – During the PAST 2–3 YEARS, have the
following experiences increased, decreased,
or stayed about the same in your life?
Your religious beliefs and conviction
Note. For all developmental process and spiritual-religious engagement measures, the lowest a
was in the Cameroon sample
concurrent outcomes. But second, although the large sample size leads to quite
small associations being statistically significant, the vast majority of the coefficients
reflect small associations, in the teens or below, with only a modest proportion of
the coefficients (34/260, or 13 %) being moderate correlations .20.
Based on the proportion of coefficients in the.10s or higher, the outcomes
appearing to have the strongest linkages to spiritual development (i.e., having
correlations with 11 or more of the 13 youth spiritual development constructs at
.10) were: forgiveness (13), gratitude (13), thriving (13), volunteering (12), coping
(12), positive emotionality (12), self-awareness (12), and sense of purpose (11).
Using the same criterion, the youth spiritual development constructs most
commonly associated with these 21 well-being outcomes were all four of
the developmental processes—i.e., connecting with others (15), values in action (14),
mindfulness (14), and discovering meaning (12)—and two of the spiritual-religious
engagement constructs—i.e., spirituality in action (14) and spiritual identity (13).
Correlation matrices also were created for gender, age, religious affiliation, and
country groups, and the coefficients examined across demographic groups (not
shown here). Results for males and females, and for the four age groups, with one
or two exceptions, were largely similar to the results above. Females and those ages
22–25 had a greater number of.10 or higher correlations with spiritual identity than
did males or the other age groups, and connecting with others was linked to more
outcomes for 22–25-year-olds than for the other age groups. But generally, the
same outcomes, and the same youth spiritual development constructs as listed
above, had the strongest relative linkage with each other across gender and age
groups as for the overall sample.
Table 38.3 Health and well-being outcome measures

# of a across
Measures items nations Example item
Psychosocial well-being
Spiritual well- 1 How are you doing on your journey to find meaning,
being purpose, connection, peace, and joy in your life? Not doing
Very well (1) to Doing Great (5)
Purpose and 3 .60 I have a sense that life has meaning and purpose.
meaning
Self-awareness 1 – I know who I am and why I am here.
Empathy 2 .60 I feel sad when one of my friends is unhappy.
Forgiveness 2 .39 I forgive those who hurt me.
Gratitude 1 – During the past week, how much did you feel grateful? Not
at all (1) to Great deal (4)
Positive 4 .80 I am an optimistic person.
emotionality
Happiness 1 – In general, I consider myself to be: Not a happy person
(1) to A very happy person (5)
Hopeful future 1 – I feel good about my future.
Coping 1 – Even when I experience problems, I can find peace within
me.
Thriving 7 .68 I have a special talent, interest, or quality—a “spark”—that
I am passionate about and regularly spend time on. This
“spark” gives me joy and energy, and is an important part of
who I am as a person.
Physical well-being
Nonviolent 1 – Over the past 12 months, have you gotten into a physical
behavior fight or hit someone?
Peaceful conflict 1 – You try to resolve conflicts calmly with family or friends.
resolution
Substance abuse 3 .76 In the last 30 DAYS, how many times, if any, have you:
Had alcohol to drink, other than at religious services?
No religious 1 – How often do you get picked on or made fun of because of
discrimination your religion? Very Often, Often, Sometimes, Never
Feels healthy 1 – In general, how would you describe your health? Excellent,
Very Good, Good, Fair or Poor
No depression 1 – Did you ever feel so sad or hopeless that you stopped doing
some usual activities for two weeks or more in a row?
Yes, No
Civic engagement
Volunteering 1 – In an average week, including weekends, about how many
hours do you volunteer, without getting paid, to help others
or to make your community better?
Environmental 1 – About how often do you do something to protect our land,
stewardship air, and natural resources, such as recycling, using less
water, or using less electricity?
(continued)

# of a across
Measures items nations Example item
Academic success
School 1 – How often do you work up to your ability at school?
engagement
Grades 1 – Counting ALL the classes you take, what grades do you
earn in school? (If you are not in school, respond based on
what you remember from when you were in school.)
Table 38.4 Correlations among the developmental process constructs and well-being outcomes
Connecting with others Discovering Alignment of
Outcomes through prosocial beliefs meaning Mindfulness values with action
Spiritual well- .132 .076 .149 .104
being
Purpose and .253 .218 .269 .166
meaning
Self-awareness .142 .179 .201 .136
Empathy .224 .051 .206 .036
Forgiveness .279 .220 .278 .138
Gratitude .229 .211 .165 .143
Positive .205 .180 .178 .189
emotionality
Happiness .147 –- .175 –
Hopeful future .194 .109 .159 .102
Coping .154 .211 .148 .164
Thriving .137 .176 .112 .152
Physical well-being
Nonviolent .078 – .115 –
behavior
Peaceful conflict .091 .047 .015 .089
resolution
No substance .158 – .079 .046
abuse
No religious – .237 .071 .144
Discrimination
Feels healthy .078 .028* .050 .075
No depression – .133 .029* .068
Civic engagement
Volunteering .195 .267 .069 .199
Environmental .181 .085 .096 .124
stewardship
(continued)

Connecting with others Discovering Alignment of
Outcomes through prosocial beliefs meaning Mindfulness values with action
Academic success
School .105 .099 .081 .107
engagement
Grades .056 .025* .103 .114
Notes. All correlations significant at p .0001, except those marked with a single asterisks (*),
these are significant at p .05. Associations that were not significant are marked with a dash (–)
However, the patterns varied more widely by religious affiliation and by country.
For example, spiritual identity was correlated at .10 with 18 outcomes among
Christians, but just 8 among Muslims, and with 19 outcomes for the US sample,
versus just 8 for the Cameroon sample and 9 outcomes for the India sample.
Moreover, for Muslims, religious practices was one of the stronger youth spiritual
development constructs in terms of correlation with outcomes, and religious prac-
tices as well as spiritual practices were linked to a dozen or more outcomes for
Christians. These results suggested the need to control for religious affiliation and
country in subsequent analyses.
38.3.2 Mean Outcome Differences by Levels on the Youth Spiritual

Development Index
Initial ANOVAs showed that higher levels of youth spiritual development, as

reflected in the YSD Index scores, were broadly associated with better concurrent
developmental outcomes in the academic, physical, psychosocial, and civic domains.
Because the bivariate correlations of youth spiritual development scores and
outcomes suggested considerable variability by country and religious affiliation, we
then conducted ANCOVAs that controlled for country and religious group. The
results displayed in Table 38.6 show that youth spiritual development was a signif-
icant predictor of all 21 health and well-being outcomes. The results controlling for
country and religious group affiliation yielded even more consistent associations
between higher levels of the YSD Index and better outcomes than in the analyses
without the country and religious group covariates: For 19 of the 21 outcomes
(90 %), youth in highest third of YSD Index were better off than those in the lowest
third (versus that result in 16 of 21 outcomes in the uncontrolled ANOVAs), and for
13 of the 21 outcomes (62 %), each successive increase in the level of the YSD
Index (i.e., from low to medium, and from medium to high), with country and
religious affiliation controlled, was significantly associated with successively better
levels of the outcome. This strongly linear improvement in well-being at each
successively higher level of the YSD Index was seen for these outcomes: purpose
and meaning, self-awareness, empathy, forgiveness, gratitude, positive emotional-
ity, sense of having a hopeful future, coping, and thriving, as well as with no
1124
Table 38.5 Correlations among the spiritual-religious engagement constructs and well-being outcomes
Apprehension Spiritual Religious Spiritual Spirituality Spiritual Change in Religious Change in
Outcomes of God/force practices practices experiences in action identity spirituality identity religiosity
Spiritual .035 .048 – .073 .101 .175 .093 .095 .055
well-being
Purpose and .133 .077 – .125 .205 .277 .195 .148 .113
meaning
Self-awareness .108 .101 .068 .104 .157 .219 .141 .151 .134
Empathy – .025* .060 – .097 .117 .104 .045 .054
Forgiveness .183 .168 .152 .130 .188 .167 .146 .164 .172
Gratitude .169 .191 .162 .136 .193 .190 .115 .179 .130
Positive .128 .135 .108 .165 .205 .121 .137 .054 .102
emotionality
Happiness – – .068 – .054 .271 .089 .170 .036
Hopeful future .091 .095 .051 .086 .131 .085 .083 .068 .077
Coping .165 .143 .118 .179 .179 .136 .146 .074 .100
Thriving .145 .167 .136 .161 .195 .114 .138 .087 .083
Physical well-being
Nonviolent .043 .087 .103 .064 – .108 .088 – .058
Behavior
P.C. Scales et al.
Peaceful conflict – .069 .083 .039 –
38
.054 .038 .046 .030*

resolution
No substance .094 .099 .046 – .048 .144 .106 .206 .131
abuse
No religious .277 .350 .413 .263 .205 .040 .078 .172 .140
discrimination
Feels healthy .038 .066 .067 .062 .063 .039 – – –
No depression .106 .121 .143 .115 .100 .065 – – –
Civic engagement
Volunteering .258 .289 .325 .224 .298 .140 .144 .213 .174
Environmental .038 .083 .059 .049 .126 .087 .098 .044 .072
stewardship
Academic success
School .086 .083 .072 .077 .110 .049 .042 .051 .057
engagement
Grades .046 .044 .037 – .061 .053 – .044 –
Notes. All correlations significant at p .0001, except those marked with a single asterisks (*), which are significant at p .05. Associations that were not
significant are marked with a dash (–)
Relation of Spiritual Development to Youth Health and Well-Being
1125
Table 38.6 Analyses of covariance (ANCOVAs) differences in outcome means among youth
spiritual development index groups, controlling for country and religious affiliation
F values Means
Covariates YSD index groups
Religious
Outcome Country affiliation Overall Low Medium High
Spiritual well- 59.12*** .28 (2,6336) ¼ 27.78*** .11b .04b .13a
being
Purpose and 41.35*** 14.63*** (2,6381) ¼ 302.18*** .33 .04 .23
meaning
Self-awareness 40.53*** .00 (2,6319) ¼ 147.16*** .27 .03 .28
Empathy 27.21*** 15.76*** (2,6366) ¼ 75.84*** .15 .04 .18
Forgiveness 3.40 .04 (2,6295) ¼ 342.96*** .35 .00 .31
Gratitude .74 10.67*** (2,6315) ¼ 192.41*** .33 .04 .29
Positive .25 4.01 (2,6317) ¼ 212.50*** .27 .03 .25
emotionality
Happiness 22.20*** .87 (2,6345) ¼ 43.01*** .12b .06b .17a
Hopeful future 8.46 12.97*** (2,6323) ¼ 115.96*** .23 .04 .26
Coping 8.04 2.90 (2,6335) ¼ 242.62*** .33 .02 .36
Thriving 35.27*** 6.48 (2,6323) ¼ 461.81*** .56 .17 .13
Physical well-being
Nonviolent 180.37*** 4.37 (2,6287) ¼ 8.70*** .06b .01a,b .07a
behavior
Peaceful conflict 81.98*** .99 (2,6291) ¼ 11.11 .07b .03b .08a
resolution
No substance abuse 135.16*** 10.22*** (2,6298) ¼ 65.98*** .16 .04 .13
No religious 231.20*** 3.46 (2,6301) ¼ 202.17*** .33 .04 .30
discrimination
Feels healthy 19.87 .22 (2,6325) ¼ 20.64*** .07b .04b .13a
No depression 76.11*** 13.13*** (2,6236) ¼ 31.68*** .13 .01 .13
Civic engagement
Volunteering 12.38*** .29 (2,6285) ¼ 304.03*** .38 .00 .40
Environmental 16.11*** 22.63*** (2,6309) ¼ 97.63*** .23 .01 .22
stewardship
Academic
School engagement .85 .23 (2,5799) ¼ 69.07*** .19 .00 .21
Grades 199.49*** 2.83 (2,6227) ¼ 11.54*** .06b .04b .09a
Notes. Unless otherwise noted, the YSD Index means for each outcome are all significantly
different from each other. For outcomes where the differences between these means were more
nuanced, differing superscripts were used across the row to indicate those means that were
significantly different. Bonferroni-corrected p level required for significance was .002 (.05/21)
***p .001
substance abuse, volunteering, environmental stewardship, and being highly

engaged at school.
Further, those having the highest third of YSD Index scores were less likely to
engage in violence than the lowest third (but not than the middle third), and more
likely to resolve conflicts peacefully, feel healthy, be happier, and have better grades
in school, than all other youth. On the other hand, those with the highest YSD Index
scores experienced the most religious discrimination, and the most frequent reports
of being depressed. Although the link between high spiritual development and
higher levels of depression is not necessarily intuitive, it is not surprising that
those who were more spiritually and religiously involved might experience more
religious discrimination than those who got low scores on the YSD Index.
When the same analyses controlling for country and religious affiliation were
run by demographic subsamples, there were relatively few notable differences in
how youth spiritual development affected outcomes across gender and age groups
(Note 1). Higher levels on the YSD Index were associated with nonviolence for
males, but not females, and with peaceful conflict resolution and better grades for
females but not males. Higher levels of youth spiritual development were linked to
less substance abuse and more reports of feeling healthy for all age groups but
12–14, to better grades only among 22–25-year-olds, and to greater reported
depression for all age groups except 22–25. The rest of the outcomes reflected
either exactly or substantially the patterns linking levels on the YSD Index to
outcomes as discussed above for the entire sample.
Table 38.6 also shows that country was a significant predictor for over half of the
well-being outcomes: spiritual well-being, happiness, purpose and meaning, empa-
thy, self-awareness, volunteering, environmental stewardship, nonviolence, peace-
ful conflict resolution, religious discrimination, no depression, grades, no substance
abuse, and thriving. Post hoc comparisons (not displayed here) using Tukey HSD
showed that the USA and the UK had the highest means (alone or together with
others) for 13 of the 21 outcomes, while Cameroon and Ukraine had the worst
means (alone or together with others) for 14 of the outcomes.
Similarly, Table 38.6 shows that religious affiliation was a significant predictor
for seven outcomes: empathy, gratitude, environmental stewardship, no depression,
purpose and meaning, no substance abuse, and hopeful future. However, post hoc
comparisons (not displayed here) using Tukey HSD showed differences by reli-
gious affiliation only for two of the outcomes. Hindus and Muslims had less
substance abuse than all other religious groups. Muslims were the most grateful
group, and those with no religious affiliation (including atheists and agnostics) were
the least grateful. There were no other religious group differences in outcomes.
Relative contribution of youth spiritual development and demographics.
A series of stepwise regression analyses were run to assess the relative contribution
of the YSD Index and demographic characteristics in predicting youth health and
well-being outcomes. In Step 1, the health and well-being outcomes were regressed
on religious affiliation and country. In Step 2, the continuous YSD Index was
entered into the model (results are not shown but are available from the authors).
A clear pattern emerged across the results: Even when country and/or religious
affiliation were significant outcome predictors, the YSD Index was typically a more
important predictor, with larger bs, often substantially larger. For example, the bs
were at least two to three times larger for YSD Index scores than religion or country
for the outcomes of coping, hopeful future, empathy, self-awareness, forgiveness,
school engagement, positive emotionality, sense of purpose, spark, gratitude,
volunteering, and environmental stewardship. Only for four of the 21 outcomes
(i.e., depression, engaging in violence, peaceful conflict resolution, and grades)
were country and/or religious affiliation stronger predictors than were levels of
youth spiritual development.
38.4 Summary
Our major research question was: How much is a comprehensive measure of youth
spiritual development associated across diversities of gender, age, religion, and
country with numerous health and well-being outcomes? We found that youth with
higher levels on the YSD Index enjoyed broadly better well-being. Those with the
highest third of YSD Index scores reported better physical health, feeling healthier,
and a decreased likelihood of substance abuse than all other youth, and less
engagement in violence than those with the lowest third of YSD Index scores.
They were psychosocially better off and generally enjoyed better mental health, as
well as more civic engagement and greater academic success, reporting more
coping skills, happiness, self-awareness, empathy, forgiveness, gratitude, positiv-
ity, purpose and meaning, overall satisfaction with their life’s journey so far
(spiritual well-being), a sense of having a hopeful future, thriving (having sparks
and support to pursue them), peaceful conflict resolution, taking care of the
environment, volunteering in their schools and communities, and being engaged
in school more often than all other youth. For most of these outcomes, youth in the
middle third of the YSD Index also were better than those in the lowest third,
offering consistent evidence that increases in youth spiritual development were
linked to increases in well-being, relationships that were observed whether country
and religious affiliation were controlled or not.
The stark exception in these findings showing youth spiritual development and
well-being to be positively related is that the reported experience of religious
discrimination increased as YSD Index levels increased, as did the reported
frequency of youth feeling depressed. Not surprisingly, the more young people
had spiritual experiences, engaged in explicitly spiritual or religious practices, and
put their values and spirituality into action, the more they reported being discriminated
against because of their beliefs. These data cannot clarify whether this increase is due
to an actual rise in discrimination as their spirituality becomes more visible to others,
or whether it is youths’ ability and willingness to define particular incidents as
religiously discriminatory that has sharpened. Importantly, however, despite rising
discrimination accompanying rising youth spiritual development as defined in this

study, the effects of that discrimination do not appear especially negative, since the
youth highest on their spiritual development scores also were the happiest, most
positive, hopeful, and purposeful youth of all.
On the other hand, higher YSD Index scores also predicted a higher frequency of
depression, a seemingly contradictory finding to the results showing more spiritu-
ally “developed” youth to be happier, more positive, and more purposeful and
hopeful. This finding echoes the report of Cotton et al. (2005) that the more
religious youth in their study were more depressed, and that of Sallquist et al.
(2010) that spirituality and loneliness were positively correlated among Indonesian
youth. Although Cotton et al. suggested that depressed youth may have sought
comfort in religious congregations, another mechanism also may be at work. The
active pursuit of answers to life’s mysteries, which may be answerable only through
faith rather than through worldly evidence, may leave a certain portion of young
people unsatisfied and dispirited that even spiritual and religious practice might
bring, not concrete answers, but perhaps even more essentially unanswerable
questions. Perhaps such spiritual and religious involvement becomes a source of
comfort, or at least ceases to be an unsettling influence to as many, only as young
people become older and more accepting of the limits of human knowledge.
Although this study is only cross-sectional and therefore can yield only speculations
about such developmental patterns, the association between high levels of spiritual
development and more self-reported depression was observed for 12–21-year-olds,
but not for 22–25-year-olds, which may suggest that the possible developmental
link between youth spiritual development and self-reported depression could
weaken with time.
We also found that youth spiritual development was more important than
country and religious affiliation in contributing to the outcomes, as reflected by
much larger bs observed for 81 % of the outcomes. This result is quite similar to the
findings we reported in two national studies in the USA. In one, a national study of
15-year-olds, the relative contribution of demographics to outcomes was far less
than was the contribution of sparks, relational opportunities, and youth voice
(Scales et al. 2010). In the other study of a nationally representative sample of
12–17-year-olds, demographics predicted outcomes far less than youth experiences
of the nurturing developmental “promises” of caring adults, safe places, a healthy
start, effective education, and opportunities to make a difference (Scales et al.
2008). In each case, youths’ experience of various developmental strengths, just
as found with youth spiritual development in the current study, contributed far more
than demographics to youth well-being. It is, of course, necessary to culturally
contextualize the theory and measurement of positive youth development in gen-
eral, and youth spiritual development specifically, in order to better understand
what positive development means in various cultures, and how it can best be
promoted. Nevertheless, these results suggest that the influence of this combination
of more universal developmental elements and more explicitly spiritual or religious
elements of youth spiritual development has considerably more application across
cultural diversity than might have been imagined.
The special contributions of the current study are several. Although youth
spiritual development previously has been linked to positive health outcomes, no
previous study has investigated as broad a range of well-being indicators among
youth across academic, physical, psychosocial, and civic domains. This study
provides solid evidence that high levels of spiritual development in youth consis-
tently are related to their doing better academically, physically, psychologically,
socially, and civically. Most previous studies also have had quite homogeneous
samples, typically a narrow age group from Western countries, and largely
comprised of Christian youth. In this study, we included a broad age range from
12 to 25, youth from industrialized, transitioning, and developing countries, and
youth affiliated with not only Christianity, but Islam, Buddhism, Hinduism, other
traditions such as Judaism, and those who professed no affiliation or who described
themselves as agnostic or atheist. That we found such consistent and broad
associations between youth spiritual development and well-being among such an
extraordinarily diverse global youth sample argues for the relative universality of
the link between spiritual development and well-being among young people,
and underscores the likely generalizability of these findings beyond the limitations
of this study’s purposive and nonrepresentative samples. Finally, most previous
studies of youth “spiritual” development have used only indicators reflecting
religious importance and/or involvement. In another analysis of these data, we
reported (Benson et al. 2012b) that the majority of youth in these eight countries
pursued spiritual development without deep engagement in specifically spiritual or
religious practices. Therefore, measures that define “spiritual development” only
by recourse to “religious” indicators may fail to accurately represent the develop-
ment of the majority of young people. By showing that the inclusion of “develop-
mental” processes in the definition of spiritual development yields consistent
meaningful linkages with youth well-being, this study provides a framework
for understanding youth spiritual development that applies to all youth, regardless
of their religious affiliation or religiosity, and thus attains a greater measure of
validity than traditional approaches to studying youth spiritual development and
well-being.
Note 1. Nine of the 21 outcomes had exactly the same post hoc group difference
patterns (High YSD Index score group > Medium score group > Lowest score
group on their outcome means) for both genders and three of the four age groups
as found in the uncontrolled overall sample analyses. Another five outcomes had
H > L or H > M, L for both genders and three of four age groups, so 14 of 21 (67 %)
exactly or substantially mirrored the YSD-outcome patterns across gender and age.
Two additional outcomes showed H, M > L for one gender and two age groups,
moderately mirroring the overall results in another 10 % of outcomes. The two
results showing higher levels of YSD related to worse outcomes (more
religious discrimination and more depression) also were mirrored by age and
gender. Higher YSD levels were not significantly related to better outcomes by
gender or age only for three outcomes. For nonviolence, YSD was significant
only for males, and for peaceful conflict resolution and school grades, YSD was
significant only for ages 22–25 and females. Thus, in only a minority of outcomes
(three to four outcomes or 14–19 %) did gender or age patterns in YSD-outcome
relationships differ meaningfully from the overall findings.
Acknowledgments Angela Hackel, former Research Assistant at Search Institute, contributed

significantly to the early development of this chapter and her contribution is gratefully acknowl-
edged. Funding from the John Templeton Foundation supported the research described in this
chapter.
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Religion and Child Well-Being
39
George W. Holden and Paul Alan Williamson
39.1 Introduction
Religion is a powerful force in many people’s lives. It can motivate terrorists, cause
wars, justify intolerance and prejudicial beliefs, promote antiscience ideologies,
and be a regressive social influence. For most people, fortunately, religion serves as
a force for decency and good. Broadly speaking, the world’s religions resemble
each other in that they uphold behavioral ethics of not lying, stealing, committing
adultery, or murdering. Further, religions in general promote virtues of humility,
charity, and honesty (Smith 2009). One reflection of these teachings can be found in
the fact that religious adults contribute to charities more and in more generous
amounts than nonreligious people (Nemeth and Luidens 2003).
It is estimated that up to 86 % of the world’s people consider themselves to be
religious (Barrett et al. 2001). When adults become parents, many fathers turn to
religion to provide a positive moral and social context for rearing their children,
a change that has previously been observed in new mothers (Knoester et al. 2007).
Evidently, religious parents believe that rearing children within their belief system
will enhance children’s well-being. But what is the evidence for such a connection?
If the data were limited to newspaper accounts in the United States, the associ-
ation appears to be negative. Headlines highlight sexual abuse by Catholic priests
and others, physical child abuse in the name of religion, medical neglect as
consequence of faith healing, and other forms of child maltreatment. News stories
of child fatalities periodically appear that document the sad consequences of
parents who adopt an extreme religious authoritarian orientation in their child-
rearing or reject medical care for sick children.
As this chapter will show, the evidence is at odds with the newspaper accounts
and in support of parents who raise their children in a religious tradition. In fact,
G.W. Holden (*) • P.A. Williamson

Department of Psychology, Southern Methodist University, Dallas, TX, USA

1138 G.W. Holden and P.A. Williamson
there is increasing evidence that religion is indeed associated with many different
manifestations of well-being in children and youth.
What is meant by “well-being”? It is a concept that can be operationalized in
diverse ways that reflect the many developmental trajectories of children and youth
(Holden 2010a). For example, all children are on physical, social, and cognitive
trajectories, but they may simultaneously be on athletic, artistic, and spiritual ones
as well. Each trajectory could be assessed with different measures of well-being.
For example, Child Trends, a nonprofit nonpartisan research center that publishes
annual reports on the well-being of children and youth, utilizes over 100 variables
to monitor the status of children in the USA (see Annie E. Casey Foundation
2010). Major indicators of well-being can be grouped into physical health
(e.g., premature births, infant mortality), behavioral (e.g., aggression, prosocial
behavior), mental health (e.g., depression, anxiety), and academic success
(e.g., high school dropout rates).
To systematically examine the relation between religion and child well-being,
we first turn to some ancient sacred texts and interpreters of those texts. We briefly
examine what those texts have to say about child well-being. Next, after defining
the terms, we then review the history of research on the topic after identifying three
pioneering studies. The main corpus of this chapter focuses on recent findings
linking religion to children’s well-being. Then we address the potential mecha-
nisms by which religion may be affecting children’s well-being. The chapter ends
with some suggestions for future investigations.
39.2 Sacred Texts Linking Religion and Child Well-Being
To what extent do sacred texts address children’s well-being and provide a guide
for child-rearing? To address that question, we will consider the sacred texts of the
most prominent global religions, Christianity and Islam. Christians and Muslims
comprise 33 % and 22 % of the world’s population, respectively (Prothero 2010).
That is not to say other religions do not have large numbers of followers: The
Yoruba religion of West Africa claims 100 million adherents! However, it is
estimated that there are 2.1 billion Christians and 1.5 billion Muslims, making
these two religions by far the most widespread (Adherents.com 2011).
We begin with the Christian Bible, containing the Old and New Testaments.
Despite being over 1,000 pages long and containing more than 31,000 verses, there
is little explicit attention to children and child-rearing. In the Old Testament,
children are viewed as a divine gift, a great source of joy, and a blessing from God
(e.g., Genesis 1:27–28; Psalms 127:3–5). In terms of behavioral practices, parents
are instructed to circumcise their newborn sons (Genesis 17:10–14). The verses that
most directly refer to how children should behave or child-rearing consist of one
commandant (“Honor your father and your mother,” Exodus 20:12, New Interna-
tional Version), along with less than ten verses in the rest of the Old Testament
(Gundry-Volf 2001). Almost all of those are found in The Book of Proverbs which
calls for parental guidance, strict discipline (3:11–12, 19:18, 20:30), and the “rod” or
39 Religion and Child Well-Being 1139
“rod of discipline” (13:24, 22:15, and 23:13–14; 1 Corinthians 4:21). The importance
of having a righteous child is also declared (Proverbs, 23:24).
Children are referred to very differently in the New Testament (Gundry-Volf 2001).
Rather than being in need of discipline, they become models for adults who seek to
enter the kingdom of God (Matthew 18:1–5). At least three epistles from Paul directly
concern child-rearing or child behavior. In Ephesians (6:1–3) and Colossians (3:30),
children are reminded to obey their parents. But then Paul goes on to instruct fathers not
to “exasperate” (Ephesians 6:4) or “embitter” (Colossians 3:21) children but to rear
them spiritually. In a third epistle, Paul instructs fathers to manage their families to see
that children obey but in a manner worthy of respect (1 Timothy 3: 4–5).
With regard to Islam, there are three sacred texts that contain passages about
children and child-rearing. The Quran is the most important text because it is
regarded as the perfect, unchanged, and verbatim word of God. It contains general
teachings of Islam and thereby represents a guidebook to lead people to the
righteous path and eventually to paradise. The sayings of Prophet Muhammad or
reports about what he did are found in a collection of writings called the Hadith. It
contains information about the Sunnah, or the lived example of Muhammad. Thus,
the Hadith can be turned to for the teachings of the Quran that are applied to
specific areas of daily living.
In the Quran, God instructs his followers to procreate (the purpose of marriage)
and then to protect their families. It encourages having children, celebrating them,
and rearing them properly. Consequently, this meant abandoning the ancient
practice of infanticide. “Slay not your children, fearing a fall to poverty, We shall
provide for them and for you. Lo! the slaying of them is great sin” (Quran, 17:31;
retrieved from http://Quran.com). There are also passages about breast-feeding,
children’s rights, fatherless children, adoption, foster care, and marriage.
It is parents’ duty to teach their children the Islamic way of life and put them on
the path to paradise. The Prophet treated children with kindness, respect, mercy,
and love. He said, “He is not of us who does not have mercy on young children, nor
honor the elderly” (retrieved from http://etori.tripod.com/on-children.html). He
instructed people to value their children and raise them to be good Muslims.
After all, Prophet Muhammad told his followers that one of the three things that
continues to benefit people after death is the prayers of their righteous children. He
also encouraged people to end the traditional practice of favoring sons: “If anyone
has a female child, and does not bury her alive, or slight her, or prefer his children
[i.e., the male ones] to her, Allah will bring him into Paradise” (retrieved from
http://etori.tripod.com/on-children.html).
39.3 Interpretations of Sacred Writing
Clearly, neither the Bible nor the Quran can be considered a comprehensive or
detailed child-rearing manual. Consequently, applying the principles and sayings of
the sacred texts to child-rearing and promoting children’s well-being was left to
followers to flesh out. To illustrate that point, we next consider how interpreters of
the Bible viewed children and the parental role in their development. As described
in the edited volume by Bunge (2001), the interpretations vary widely and are
evolving. However, child-rearing practices were widely regarded by theologians
(e.g., Augustine, John Calvin, John Wesley) as very important because children are
tainted by original sin, and it is incumbent upon parents, teachers, and others to
eliminate that sinful disposition.
One of the first detailed child-rearing interpretations of the Bible was written by
Horace Bushnell. A Congregational pastor, he published Christian Nurture in 1861.
In more than 400 pages, he discusses his views about how parents should rear their
children. His thesis is that it is important to begin training a child in the Christian
spirit early in life, so a child does not go astray (Bendroth 2001). Although his book
was published when Sigmund Freud was just 5 years old, he recognized the power
of the unconscious in the developing child: “What they do not remember still
remembers them, and now claims a right in them. What was before unconscious,
flames out into consciousness. . .” (p. 211). With regard to discipline, he argued:
There are, too, I must warn you, many who talk much of the rod as the orthodox symbol of
parental duty, but who might really as well be heathens as Christians; who only storm about
their house with heathenish ferocity who lecture, and threaten, and castigate, and bruise,
and call this family government. . . So much easier is it to be violent than to be holy, that
they substitute force for goodness and grace, and are wholly unconscious of the imposture.
It is frightful to think how they batter and bruise the delicate, tender souls of their children,
extinguishing in them what they ought to cultivate, crushing that sensibility which is the
hope of their being, and all in the sacred name of Christ Jesus. (pp. 56–57)
Since Bushnell’s book appeared, many others – ministers and laypersons – have
published their views about how Christian parents need to rear their children in
order to promote well-being. The single most popular Christian child-rearing guide,
based on number of sales, is Dare to Discipline (1970) and its sequel The New Dare
to Discipline (1992) by James Dobson. More than 3.5 million Dare to Discipline
books have been sold. He takes a very different position from Bushnell on what the
Bible instructs about parental discipline. As an evangelical Christian, he advocates
using corporal punishment to establish parental authority over the child. In the more
recent book, he makes no qualms about the veracity of his Biblical interpretations:
“The inspired concepts in Scripture have been handed down generation after
generation and are just as valid for the twenty-first century as they were for our
ancestors” (p. 4).
However, it is not difficult to find other Christian interpretations of the Bible that
take very different perspectives than Dobson. Webb (2011) evaluates the verses
referring to the “rod of correction” from a historical context and argues that
spanking children is not in line with the spirit of the biblical text. An interpretation
of Biblical discipline even more at odds with Dobson can be found in a volume
concerning a Quaker approach to parenting (Heath 2009). Discipline in not even
indexed in that book. Rather, the Quaker approach, as described, involves
a respectful, loving, and caring orientation that precludes discipline and instead
utilizes calm, creative, and nonviolent ways to resolve conflict.
The difference between Dobson’s and the Quaker approach to parenting could
hardly be more stark. However, both are Christian approaches to child-rearing with
the ultimate goal of promoting child well-being! That disparity illustrates both the
variability and potential pitfalls inherent in this topic. It is hazardous to group
together all religious beliefs and assume they have an equal influence on child well-
being. To this point, Bartkowski and Ellison (1995) found that Conservative
Protestants, in contrast to traditional mainline denominations such as the United
Methodist Church and the Presbyterian Church (USA), hold very different beliefs
with regard to parenting goals, the structure of parent–child relations, views about
parenting roles, and orientations toward child discipline and punishment. Evidently,
caution must be exerted when researchers group together individuals of faith who
may hold different child-rearing beliefs because how they affect children could be
very different.
39.4 History of Research into Religion and Child Well-Being
Religion and child development have been linked since almost the beginning
of psychology. For instance, one of the fathers of developmental psychology,
G. Stanley Hall, published an essay in 1891 entitled “The Moral and Religious
Training of Children and Adolescents”. In it he argued about the importance of
and the proper approach to providing religious training to children. He also
considered religion to be an essential socializing influence for preadolescents
(Hall 1891).
Subsequently, many prominent psychologists have also theorized about the role
of religion in development. William James, Sigmund Freud, Carl Jung, Alfred
Adler, Gordon Allport, and Abraham Maslow all contributed articles or books on
the topic. The most direct theoretical statement regarding religion and child well-
being was by the influential theorist Erik Erikson. In Identity: Youth and Crisis,
Erikson (1968) maintained that religion was a central influence on psychosocial
development because religious beliefs provide a vehicle through which culture
promotes positive development in youth. Still, not everyone believed that religion
was a positive influence on youth. The influential founder of Rational Emotive
Behavior Therapy, Albert Ellis (1980) pronounced “Religiosity, therefore, is in
many respects equivalent to irrational thinking and emotional disturbance” (p. 637).
Since the 1950s, researchers have investigated how religion is related to family
functioning and children’s development. This work developed out of prior studies
linking religion to adult well-being. The first empirical article that addressed
religion and well-being in youth was by Brown and Lowe (1951) who explored
the role of religion in college students’ beliefs, personality, and related variables.
They found that students who were religious reported higher morale and better
family relations, than did nonbelievers.
By the early 1980s, there were 24 studies addressing the relation of religion to
mental health problems in college students and older individuals. In a meta-analytic
review, Bergin (1983) concluded that, in contrast to Albert Ellis’ disparaging

comments about religion, there was no support that religion was correlated with
psychopathology; in fact, when there were significant findings, it indicated that the
more religious someone was, the better mental health he or she enjoyed.
Three other studies merit special attention in this area as groundbreaking con-
tributions. The first journal article directly attempting to link religion and well-
being in adolescents was published by Smith et al. (1979). Using a cross-cultural
sample of Catholic students, they found that religiosity was positively related to
adolescent self-esteem in 75 % of the 12 samples of youth they collected.
Eleven years later, the second pioneering study in the area was published. This
study, of 201 low-income families, was the first study to systematically begin to
examine the links between religion and child well-being. Researchers asked a group
of mostly mothers attending a preschool intervention project to fill out surveys
about their religiosity, their mental health (e.g., depression) and related issues (e.g.,
social support), and their children’s behavior (e.g., aggression, anxiety, and hyper-
activity). Parenting behavior was coded from a 25-min videotaped interaction. They
determined that self-reported religiousness in parents was related to better func-
tioning in both the parent and in the parents’ child-rearing behaviors. However,
child behavior, as assessed through both parent reports and observed behavior, was
unrelated to religiosity. Those two studies helped set the stage for the increased
attention to religion and child well-being.
The third pioneering study is a recent contribution to the literature and by far the
strongest empirical effort to date on the topic. It focused explicitly on how religion
is related to children’s development in multiple domains, using multiple informants
and a very large dataset. Bartkowski et al. (2008) analyzed a nationally represen-
tative, longitudinal dataset (Early Childhood Longitudinal Study-Kindergarten
Class) of more than 15,000 participants to examine whether religious attendance
by parents was related to child functioning. They determined that more religious
attendance by parents, both individually and together as couples, was associated
with better child functioning in three domains: behavior problems, social interac-
tions, and cognitive performance. For example, children whose parent or parents
went to church showed greater self-control, better interpersonal skills, and fewer
internalizing problems as well as externalizing problems at school. These results
were based on parent and teacher reports and controlled for a number of variables
(e.g., child gender, race/ethnicity, socioeconomic status, region of country). One
exception to the positive links with religion was found. When religion provided
a source of conflict between parents, it was related to an increase in problems and
may have undermined children’s positive development.
Those three landmark studies on the topic of religion and children’s well-being
fit into the larger body of literature on psychology, religion, and development,
a research area that has seen dramatic growth in the past quarter century. There are
now handbooks on psychology and religion (e.g., Paloutzian and Park 2005), on
positive youth development and spirituality (Lerner et al. 2008; Roehlkepartain
et al. 2006), and numerous reviews, as will be mentioned.
39.5 Current Research on Religion and Child Well-Being
We next focus on the empirical evidence about children and well-being with
a concentration on publications that have appeared in the past decade. Besides
conducting a literature search on the web using keywords such as “religion,”
“religiosity,” “spirituality,” “children,” “adolescents,” and “positive development,”
to identify relevant books and research articles, we also reviewed 15 journals that
were likely to publish such articles, including the Journal for the Scientific Study of
Religion, Journal of Religion and Health, and the Journal of Psychology of Religion
and Spirituality. In addition, we identified seven summaries of the empirical
evidence concerning the relation of religiosity and youth development (Cotton
et al. 2006; Dew et al. 2008; King et al. 2011; King and Roeser 2009; Regnerus
2003; Regnerus et al. 2003; Wong et al. 2006). Each of these reviews focused on
adolescence – presumably because there were not enough investigations of younger
children. In addition, reviews of religion and the family by Mahoney and her
colleagues (Mahoney 2010; Mahoney et al. 2001) identified other pertinent studies.
This section provides a representative summary of the work we found on the topic,
rather than an exhaustive review.
Religion has been operationalized in the research in multiple ways, ranging from
a single question concerning religious affiliations to frequency of various religious
practices (e.g., church attendance, prayer) and to detailed assessments of the
individual’s faith and spirituality. Given the limited research available, we did
not attempt to distinguish between these different ways of characterizing someone’s
religion or religious beliefs. Nor do we make distinctions between religion, religi-
osity, or spirituality. Those terms, although they have specific meanings, will not be
differentiated in this chapter. Due to the limited research on younger children, we
also rarely distinguish between children, youth, or adolescents. “Children,” if not
otherwise specified, refer to anyone 18 years of age or younger.
To organize the recent literature on child well-being, we separate the evidence
into five domains: (1) physical health, (2) healthy behavior, (3) mental and emo-
tional health, (4) delinquency and other externalizing behavior problems, and
(5) academic and cognitive functioning. These domains reflect different ways of
assessing whether a child or youth is developing on a healthy, positive trajectory
(Holden 2010a).
39.5.1 Physical Health
In contrast to the large number of studies that have, since the 1980s, linked religion
with various indices of adult physical health (Matthews et al. 1998), relatively few
studies have investigated the link between religion and physical health in children.
That is not to say there is no association. In fact, the evidence is that religious
beliefs have a mixed record as they relate to physical well-being of children and
youth (Oman and Thoresen 2006).
On the positive side, organized religion has been a force for respecting each
individual life. Religious beliefs against infanticide, in both Islam and Christianity,
were important influences on changing the prevailing widespread practice of
killing, or at least leaving to the mercy of the elements, undesired newborns or
those with disabilities. Another example of promoting child’s physical health can
be seen in those individuals who oppose abortion, a movement prominently asso-
ciated in the USA with Conservative Protestants (Martin 2005).
In contrast, children’s physical health can be compromised by certain religious
beliefs that are characterized as authoritarian, rigid, and dogmatic. Certain funda-
mentalist Christian groups as well as other denominations or churches (Church of
Scientology, the Christian Science Church, and Jehovah’s Witnesses) believe in
using spiritual practices such as prayer and faith healing to combat illness and
physical ailments rather than using conventional medicine. Some of these groups
eschew all medical treatment. In fact, each year, there are new cases of religion-
motivated medical neglect that result in child fatalities. Asser and Swan (1998)
documented more than 170 cases over a 20-year period in which the practice of
prayer and faith healing resulted in child fatalities. Some religious groups do not use
or accept any blood products, based on two verses in the New Testament (Acts
15:20 and 29).
Religious exemption from standard health care for children is another concern.
In the United States, 48 states have religious exemptions from immunizations. The
majority of states also have religious exemptions for metabolic testing of newborns.
Some states also have exemptions for prophylactic eyedrops for newborns, testing
lead levels in newborn blood, and hearing tests (see www.childrenshealthcare.org;
CHILD Inc 2012, March 3).
One religious-based practice that is increasingly controversial is that of male
circumcision. An elective and widespread surgical procedure, it has a strong reli-
gious foundation. Worldwide, it is estimated that 30 % of all males are circumcised
and is required for faithful Jews. Many Muslims and Christians also follow the
tradition (WHO 2007). Although there are potential medical benefits from newborn
circumcision, including reduced risk of HIV infections, on balance the benefits are
modest if any (American Academy of Pediatrics 1999). The surgical procedure has
a low rate of complications, but infections and more serious complications can
occur, including deaths in 1 in every 500,000 cases in the USA. This rate of injury is
dramatically higher in developing countries where a variety of health complications
result from the surgery. Some people argue the practice is medically unjustifiable or
even risky, painful, violent, and can cause negative emotion or even posttraumatic
stress (Boyle et al. 2002; Fox and Thomson 2005).
Another partially religious-based practice that has become more of a cultural
norm in some parts of the world is female genital mutilation. Also euphemistically
called “genital cutting on girls” or “female circumcision,” it is practiced on girls
from infancy to 15 years in 28 countries, most prevalently in African countries
(WHO 2010). The major adherents are Muslims in Africa and the Middle East. It is
used for nonmedical reasons – to alter or injure female genitals – and there are
no health benefits. Rather, the practice is intended to promote sexual purity.
The practice is so widespread in some localities that it has become a social

convention. Although there are no religious scriptures that advocate the practice,
some practitioners of Islam believe it is a religious necessity. At the same time, it
should be remembered that many Muslims condemn the practice. For example,
in 2010, Mauritanian imams issued a fatwa against the practice (retrieved from
http://www.trust.org/alertnet/news/).
39.5.2 Health Behaviors
Health behaviors refer to actions intended to help achieve, maintain, or restore good
health as well as prevent illness. Religiosity has been linked to positive health
behaviors in youth in a number of studies. We identified three reviews on the topic:
a comprehensive review of 43 studies by Rew and Wong (2006); a review by Dew
et al. (2008) that contains a summary of 61 articles evaluating the relation of
religion and substance abuse; and a chapter by King and Roeser (2009) which
included 25 studies on the topic.
All three reviews found that religion or spirituality was strongly related to
positive health behaviors. Rew and Wong (2006) determined that 77 % of the
studies found exclusively positive relations between religion and positive health
behaviors such as exercise, good sleep hygiene, seat belt use, use of birth control,
and maintenance of healthy diets. This was still the case after controlling for
covariates, mainly demographic variables known to be associated with health
attitudes and behaviors. Six of the studies (14 %) demonstrated mixed results,
and four of the studies (9 %) indicated there were no statistically significant
relations.
King and Roeser (2009) similarly found a positive association of religion and
a variety of salutary health behaviors. They determined that youth participation in
religion was associated with less risky sexual behaviors, including being older at
sexual debut and having fewer sexual partners than their less religious peers.
Furthermore, the results, typically found in Caucasian youth, were replicated in
samples of Hispanic and African American adolescents.
One noteworthy exception to the positive associations between religion and
beneficial health behaviors was identified in the area of sexual behavior. Adolescent
females who identified themselves as highly religious were less likely to use
contraceptives at sexual debut. Although these individuals are generally older
before having sex and have fewer sexual partners than their less pious peers, due
to their lack of birth control use, they are at increased risk for unexpected pregnan-
cies when they do engage in sexual activity (Meier 2003).
The implication of a failure to use birth control in sexually active youth can be
life changing given the well-being of youth is typically severely compromised by
early parenthood. Adolescent parenthood poses a variety of problems and hard-
ships, especially for mothers. Some of the problems include premature birth,
economic disadvantage, academic difficulties, and instability in family life (Holden
2010b). Early parenthood also interferes with adolescents’ own phase of
development. Consequently, two generations of children can potentially be

subjected to developmental disadvantages.
With regard to substance use, greater religiosity and spirituality is consistently
related, in most studies, to less adolescent drug or alcohol use. However, there are
exceptions. Dew et al. (2008) found that some studies report mixed results (i.e.,
positive as well as nonsignificant associations). Furthermore, five percent of studies
in that review found religion to be associated with more substance use. Some
denominational effects were also found in a few studies (e.g., conservative and
fundamentalist religious affiliates used fewer substances than others; Jewish ado-
lescents used less alcohol than Christians). Despite these occasional discrepancies,
overall the results were so consistent that the authors concluded “although religion
has not been conventionally seen as part of preventive health, the public may
ethically need to be made aware of this consistent relationship” (Dew et al. 2008,
p. 388).
Mental Health. Several dozen empirical studies demonstrate positive associa-
tions between religiosity and child or youth mental health or emotional well-
being. Reviews by King and Roeser (2009), Dew et al. (2008), and Wong et al.
(2006) each provide comprehensive assessments of the topic based on a total of
more than 50 studies. Relations between religion and depression, suicidality, and
anxiety, in addition to other behaviors, were examined. All three reviews con-
cluded that religion was indeed associated with better mental health in adoles-
cents, including depression, anxiety, and various other emotional and
psychological problems. For example, Dew et al. (2008) determined that 64 %
of the articles contained at least one finding documenting a positive relation
between religion and better mental health among spiritual youth. In the area of
suicidality, Dew et al. (2008) found that in 70 % of the studies reviewed (N ¼ 20),
there was some evidence that religion was related to lower suicidality. These
results are consistent with the conclusions of the other two reviews mentioned
above. Although virtually all of those studies were conducted with Judeo-
Christian samples of youth, one study also arrived at the same inverse association
among youth and adult members of North American Indian tribes practicing their
traditional spiritual practices (Garroutte, Goldberg, Beals, Herrell, Manson, & the
AI-SUPERPFP Team, 2003).
With regard to suicidal ideation, at least one study did not arrive at the same
conclusion, and therefore, it is instructive to examine it. In that particular study,
greater religiosity was associated with higher suicide risk in a sample of Chinese
college students in Beijing (Zhang and Jin 1996). Using questionnaire data, it was
found that religiosity was correlated with depression, suicidal ideation, and pro-
suicide attitudes. This study did not identify the nature of the students’ religious
beliefs. It could be that students’ nonindigenous religious beliefs were driving these
associations. Furthermore, the context of religion in China may have played a role.
Historically, religious practices were strictly repressed with the advent of the
communist revolution and Mao Zedong’s rise to power in 1949. It was not until
the economic reforms of 1978 that religion began to reemerge as a socially accept-
able practice. Depending on their particular religious beliefs, the religious students
in this study may have felt some of the continuing persecution or disapproval of
their beliefs by the atheist majority. This study highlights the need to recognize that
cultural and religious variables interact to influence the behavior of youth.
Religion is not a mental health cure-all. This point can most clearly be seen in
the area of depression, where there are other discrepant results. Religious youth
typically report lower rates of depression, as indicated above. However, under
certain circumstances, religion may actually be the source of depression. In partic-
ular, pregnant or religious adolescents who have recently given birth are at risk for
depressive symptoms (Dew et al. 2008; King and Roeser 2009). This relation is
especially strong among conservative religious groups. Youth who have religious
beliefs that stress guilt or sin, have parents that do, or who live in communities that
view premarital sex and pregnancy as sinful behavior become depressed when
faced with unintended, out-of-wedlock pregnancies or single parenthood.
Similarly, if youth are subjected to negative interpersonal experiences in their
religious communities, there can be negative mental health repercussions. For
example, Pearce et al. (2003b) studied negative interpersonal religious experiences
in a sample of 744 early adolescents. The result was that in congregations that made
frequent demands of their teenagers or that were critical of youth behavior, there
were higher rates of depression. Moreover, positive and negative interpersonal
religious experience appeared to have more impact on whether or not youth
experienced depressive symptoms than did more traditional measures of religious-
ness such as attendance to services or self-described religiousness. In other words,
when it comes to mental health, the social context in which religion occurs may be
a more important consideration than religiosity itself.
Some studies simply fail to find any association at all between religion and the
mental health of young people. For example, in a study of 201 Austrian high school
students, there was no significant correlation between measures of religious practice
with a measure of depression and happiness (Wenger 2011). The authors speculated
that it is possible the effects of religion on youth are less pronounced in more
secularized regions.
Conflicting results are sometimes reported in the same study. Consider the
investigation of 236 early and mid-adolescents in Singapore (Sim and Yow
2011). Self-reported ratings of “attachment to God” had a significant positive
correlation with self-esteem (r ¼ .21, p < .05) in early adolescents but, unexpect-
edly, not in older adolescents. Even more surprising was that attachment to God
was positively related to depressive symptoms (B ¼ .25, t ¼ 2.39, p < .05). The
authors speculated that adolescents may seek the help of a higher power consequent
to experiencing depression.
As with depression, though religious influence is generally associated with
a salubrious effect on other aspects of mental health, there are exceptions. In
particular, Dew et al. (2008) noted that with respect to anxiety, results from studies
in their review were somewhat equivocal. In a more recent study of 87 minors
(8–17 years old) hospitalized for asthma, positive religious coping did not predict
scores of psychological adjustment, but negative religious coping did predict poor
adjustment (Benore et al. 2008). After adjusting for other variables such as
demographics, perceptions of overall health, perceptions of control over asthma,

and secular coping strategies, religious coping accounted for up to 50 % of the
variance in adjustment scores.
39.5.3 Delinquency and Other Behavior Problems
The single most commonly investigated topic regarding religion and adolescent
well-being concerns delinquency. In this domain, the empirical data are more
homogenous than was the case with mental health. Two research reviews arrive
at similar conclusions. In a meta-analysis of 60 studies, Baier and Wright (2001)
concluded that religiosity provides a moderate deterrent effect on youth criminality.
Similarly, in a review of 40 studies, Johnson et al. (2000) determined that 80 % of
the studies provided solid evidence of an inverse relation between religiousness and
delinquency. It was also the case that more methodological rigor was associated
with increased likelihood of significant findings.
Generally, the studies in those research reviews included youth having commit-
ted status offenses and property crimes. A more recent sociological study under-
scores the significance of the association between religion and delinquency by
examining a much more serious juvenile crime, homicide. Lee and Bartkowski
(2004) found that communities with a more prominent religious presence also had
fewer incidents of juvenile homicide relative to communities where religious
influence was less prominent. However, this effect was only seen in rural commu-
nities. Furthermore, the effect was only seen in the rate of within family homicides
and not in juveniles’ homicide rates of acquaintances or strangers.
This study illustrates that the influence of religion on youth operates not just
directly by affecting the child or youth but religion also likely influences commu-
nity standards, norms, and social controls. It also shows that the relative effect of
religion may vary a great deal depending on contextual factors. For example, the
authors suggested that effects were only seen in rural counties because religious
institutions play a more central role in rural civic life. In cities, the density of many
social networks may dilute religious influences on juveniles.
There is less research examining the associations between religious influence
and common precursors to delinquency in younger children, such as externalizing
behavior or diagnoses of conduct disorders. The evidence that is available indicates
that religion is a deterrent to aggression and other forms of acting out. In five studies
that addressed the topic, it was found that there are fewer externalizing problems,
fewer diagnoses of conduct disorder, and better social skills and attitudes among
children and adolescents who experienced some form of religious influence
(Donahue and Benson 1995; Johnson et al. 2001; Laird et al. 2011; Meltzer et al.
2011; Pearce et al. 2003a). All but one of these studies (Laird et al. 2011) had
samples of at least 1,400. Multiple Western ethnicities were represented in these
studies and effects were generally robust even after controlling for various
sociodemographic characteristics (e.g., Donahue and Benson 1995).
Even in this domain, religion is not always associated with fewer behavior
problems in children and youth. For example, of 35 studies examining delinquency,
Dew et al. (2008) found four investigations that demonstrated significant associa-
tions between high scores on religious variables and behavior problems. In a sample
of 1,000 German adolescents, regular church attendance was associated with less
risk-taking behavior, but at the same time, the youth were more likely to experience
social problems (Martin et al. 2003). As with the mental health domain, these
discrepant findings may be better understood by examining distinctions in the
assessment of religiosity.
In a study that assessed a large sample of children (7, 515 third graders), families’
church attendance predicted lower levels of internalizing behavior in their children
(Schottenbauer et al. 2007). However, the same study also found that parents’ trust in
a higher power predicted children’s externalizing behaviors. Not only was this relation
found at the bivariate level but it held up in hierarchical regression models that controlled
for parenting constructs including nurturance, responsiveness, and consistency. More
specifically, parental trust in a higher power was associated with externalizing behaviors
such as aggressiveness and poor anger control and with hyperactivity.
The significance of these findings is attenuated by two considerations. First, the
effect sizes were extremely small. Parental trust in a higher power accounted for
less than one percent of the variance in children’s externalizing and hyperactivity.
This means that the differences associated with that variable were so small that they
likely have no meaningful significance. Second, it must again be remembered that
the directionality and the causal relations cannot be determined in this study.
39.5.4 Cognitive Functioning
Although to date there are no reviews on the topic of religion and children’s
cognitive functioning, we did locate three studies on the topic. Each reported
a modest to strong positive association, as assessed by academic performance.
The largest one included a sample of 20,706 high school seniors throughout the
United States. It was found that religious students performed better than less
religious students on most measures of academic achievement (Jeynes 2003).
This was true both for students from single and two-parent families, as well as for
ethnic minorities (African Americans & Hispanics). In Germany, a study of 1,000
adolescents found that for youth who regularly attended church, they had higher
grades in linguistics but not math, compared with other youth (Martin et al. 2003).
Similarly, a meta-analysis of 15 studies that examined the relations between
religion and academic achievement of Blacks and Hispanic students found evidence
for higher overall high school academic achievement, grade point average, and
achievement test scores in minority students with a high level of religious commit-
ment compared with their peers (Jeynes 2002).
One longitudinal study also found that religion was positively associated with
earning a bachelor’s degree. Using a national sample of more than 11,000 students
from the USA, it was found that 48.9 % of the students who identified themselves as
“very religious” in the 10th grade were found to have obtained a bachelor’s degree,
compared with 38 % of the “somewhat religious,” and 29.7 % of the “not religious”
Table 39.1 Examples of variables studied that link religion to child well-being
Domains Examples of findings
Health behaviors More exercise, good hygiene, seatbelt use, healthy diet, delayed
sexual activity
Mental health Less depression, anxiety and suicidality, higher self-esteem
Delinquency and acting out Less crime, fewer externalizing behaviors
Educational aspirations and Higher grades, increased likelihood of earning a college degree
achievement
(Lee et al. 2007). Analyses controlled for other variables including prior academic
achievement and parental involvement. The effect was especially striking with low
SES students, who were four times more likely to earn a degree than their
nonreligious counterparts. The authors speculated that religious beliefs provide
a protective buffer for students in general and especially for at-risk students.
Closely related to cognitive performance is neurological functioning. For more
than a decade, spiritual practices have been linked with adult neurology. A review
of neurological and imaging studies by Cahn and Polich (2006) indicated medita-
tive practices are indeed associated with differential cognitive functioning. Specif-
ically, results have shown that meditative practices are associated with increased
attentional capacity and also with increased perceptual sensitivity. Further, medi-
tation can mitigate the effects of anxiety and stress on physiological and psycho-
logical functioning.
The Cahn and Polich review was comprised of studies with young adults or older
adults. However, a recent study utilized older adolescents and young adults to
obtain the same effects (Urry et al. 2012). The investigators found that mediation
was positively associated with prefrontal cortex activation and was also linked to
positive emotion. Taken together, these studies indicate a neurological/physiolog-
ical mechanism that may link religious practices to psychological well-being that is
likely present in children as well.
Taken as a whole, the studies are consistent in that they predominately show that
religion is indeed associated with children’s well-being. Table 39.1 lists the most
common child variables that have been linked to religion.
39.5.5 Assessment and Limitations of the Research
Religion and spirituality appear to buffer youth against mental health problems,
externalizing behaviors, delinquency, and risky health behaviors. It has been
determined that the positive relation between religion and various indices of mental
health generally holds after controlling for sociodemographics and other covariates
(Donahue and Benson 1995; Rew and Wong 2006; Schottenbauer et al. 2007).
Although Regnerus (2003) argued that, based on high-quality studies, the evidence
tends to be modest, subsequent research has continued to find positive relations.
King and Roeser (2009), when summarizing the evidence in this domain,
concluded: “the current literature paints a clear picture of the protective relationship
between adolescent religiosity and various risk behaviors” (p. 464). Religiosity also
appears to promote academic performance and may even enhance cognitive
development.
To be sure, the findings are less conclusive than in similar research with adults,
particularly in the mental health domain. Inconsistencies may be accounted for by
the particular samples of youth and their living contexts and by stronger multi-
directional associations operating among adolescents. Recall that religious Chinese
youth had higher rates of suicide and that Austrian religious youth did not receive
the protective benefits of religion compared to youth in less secularized societies. In
cases such as these, it may be the case that factors besides religiosity are at work
which influence children’s well-being. For example, perhaps religious youth in
these countries experience high interpersonal religious stress or are prone to
identity crises because their beliefs set them apart from their peers. Evidently, it
is essential to understand the context in which a study is conducted.
Findings with children and youth are also less definitive than is the case with
adult populations (e.g., Dew et al. 2008). In part, this is simply because fewer
studies exist, and so inconsistent results are difficult to interpret. The best example
of this inconsistency is in the area of adolescent depression. There are some
discrepancies in the adult literature as well, but discrepancies can often be
accounted for by considering the definition of religiosity (Hackney and Sanders
2003). In adults, when religiosity is defined institutionally, nonsignificant and even
some negative associations emerge between religion and well-being. When defined
by ideology and personal devotion, negative associations were not found, and
positive effects sizes were strengthened.
However, in the area of youth depression, contradictory findings occur across
multiple measurement domains (Dew et al. 2008). This again suggests that relations
between religious factors and child well-being are more complex than is the case
with adults. Depression generally results in decreased motivation and activity level
and increased hopelessness. Consequently, as depression sets in, some adolescents
may stop going to church and others may simply lose faith. This may account for
some of the negative associations. Another possibility is that adolescents may be
more sensitive than adults to negative interpersonal religious interactions. If that is
true, it too may account for discrepant findings among adolescents. Unfortunately,
there is not enough research available to address complex possibilities such as
these.
The corpus or research is also limited by the relatively low number of longitu-
dinal studies. Given the dramatic changes that children and youth experience, to
best understand how religion is related to the development of well-being, long-term
longitudinal studies are required. Furthermore, experimental rather than correla-
tional studies are required to make causal statements about the role of religion. Not
surprisingly, to our knowledge there are no published experimental studies where
families are randomly assigned into a religious or nonreligious category and then
tracked over time. Only with such studies can we definitely say that religious
involvement is causally linked to child well-being. Consequently, in the absence
of experimental studies and only a few longitudinal studies, definitive causal

statements cannot be made. However, the longitudinal studies that are available
do indicate that religion and spirituality are predictive of good mental health and
other positive developmental outcomes (e.g., Bartkowski et al. 2008; Schottenbauer
et al. 2007).
Whatever the interpretation, it appears that the manner in which religion
operates in the lives of youth is complex and requires sophisticated research
approaches to be fully understood. Bidirectional or reciprocal causality may well
be operating. For instance, life stress may cause a teenager to seek support or
comfort through religious involvement, but religious involvement may also
increase life stress through increased demands or conflicts with peers or even
parents.
Another causal relation could involve a third variable. In this case, religiousness
may be highly correlated with another variable and could give the false impression
of a direct causal association when none exists. This may be the case in the study
showing an association between religiosity and academic performance. Although
there was apparently some direct association between religiousness and academic
achievement, in reality a third variable, that of “family capital,” was also directly
associated and likely driving the relations (McKune and Hoffman 2009).
Yet another possibility to consider is that a religious variable interacts with some
third variable to jointly influence the well-being of youth. The study by Zhang and
Jin (1996), linking high suicidal ideations among religious Chinese youth, may be
an example of this type of association. The same measures were administered to
individuals of the same age in the United States. In the US sample, religion was
associated with less suicidal ideation relative to youth who were not as religious.
Evidently, cultural or contextual influences differentially moderate the impact of
religion on this manifestation of well-being.
Mediated associations are another type of multivariate influence to consider. In
these situations, a direct relation between religion and child well-being is again the
most readily apparent explanation of data. However, sometimes another variable may
facilitate the correspondence between these two variables. For example, neurological
function might be a mediator between religious practice and academic achievement.
A religious practice like meditation or prayer may enhance neurological and cogni-
tive function in a manner that in turn is conducive to improved academic perfor-
mance. We will return later to the potential role of mediating variables.
In some cases, the direction of causation simply may not operate in the direction
that one would like to think it does. Sometimes it may really be the case that
a healthy youth seeks out religious experiences due to a sense of well-being instead
of religion promoting a youth’s good health. An even bigger concern is that some
components of religious experiences may very well be hazardous for young people,
as in the case of unwed teenage mothers. No matter how well intentioned the
cultural norms within a religious group, conveyed or perceived messages of rejec-
tion will likely contribute to depression in young single mothers.
Another nuance of the research, often gone unrecognized, is the role of the
religious dosage. Several studies clearly indicate that whether religion exerts any
influence at all is dependent on dosage (Francis et al. 2008; Meltzer et al. 2011; Sim
and Yow 2011; Van Dyke et al. 2009). So it is not simply a matter of whether
a youth ever prays, or attends church, or believes in a higher power but the
frequency of observance and the strength of conviction.
Furthermore, as Pargament et al. (2005) argued, in addition to analyzing the
quantitative impact of religion on youth, there are also qualitative effects to
consider. Determining the effects of religion is not only a question of “how
much” but also simply a question of “how” a person is involved in religious
practice. They specifically focus on the qualities of religious coping and have
identified 21 distinct methods in religious coping, some of which can be helpful
though others may be harmful. The coping list included items such as seeking
spiritual support from clergy, using a religious activity to shift focus, asking
forgiveness, making religious reappraisals of stressors as potentially beneficial or
as divine punishment, and praying for divine intervention.
Broadly speaking, these coping techniques can be grouped into categories of
positive and negative religious coping. Positive religious coping reflects percep-
tions of a secure relationship with the divine and/or a sense of spiritual connected-
ness with others. Negative religious coping is characterized by feelings of
insecurity in relation to divinity and/or tension with members of the religious
community. Research that examines this distinction with minors generally indicates
a beneficial influence of positive religious coping, but negative effects emerge with
negative religious coping (e.g., Benore et al. 2008; Van Dyke et al. 2009). This is
consistent with aforementioned research showing depressive symptoms were asso-
ciated with negative interpersonal religious experiences, such as with pregnant
adolescents in conservative religious groups.
Other qualitative aspects of religion that may determine whether religion and
spirituality are associated with positive or negative outcomes include distinctions
between intrinsic and extrinsic religiosity, existentialism, institutional religiosity,
specific ideologies, and personal devotion. A few studies have shown intrinsic
religiousness and existential aspects of religion (spirituality) in particular to be
associated with better scores on mental health measures (e.g., Holder et al. 2010;
Huculak and McLennan 2010).
It should be recognized that the topic is difficult to investigate for multiple
reasons. Simply measuring the independent variable of religion, religiosity, or
spirituality is challenging. Merely indicating whether someone is Christian, or
Muslim, or associated with any other religious group is insufficient for capturing
the potential role that religion may play in their beliefs and behavior. As Mahoney
et al. (2001) pointed out, and it continues to hold true with more recent research, the
vast majority of research is based on one or two item assessments of religiousness
(e.g., denomination or church attendance) (e.g., Strayhorn et al. 1990). At a mini-
mum, it would be helpful if researchers adopted the taxonomy proposed by
Stennsland and his colleagues (2000) to classify American denominations. However,
to date few researchers have adopted their scheme – or any other for that matter.
By failing to adequately categorize the denomination, the results of a study could
be inadvertently confounded. Perhaps the clearest example is use of corporal
punishment. Christians with literal views of the Bible are apt to endorse the
practice, while those from mainline denominations (Episcopal, Methodist,
Presbyterian) do not. Those beliefs lead to very different child-rearing practices,
and they can differentially affect children (Gershoff et al. 1999).
Other dimensions of religious beliefs that are typically not evaluated are
strength of faith, length of adherence, and extent to which the individual
has spiritually transformed to align with the tenets of the faith. Even within
any single church, assembly, synagogue, or temple, there is considerable heteroge-
neity of beliefs and behavioral adherence to the faith. A further complication
is the relation of faith to action. Two equally devout individuals may react to
a stressor with different coping responses. One individual might pray and leave
the problem in God’s hands. In contrast, another person might pray and feel
empowered to act.
With respect to child and youth development, an important issue in the family is
whether both parents share the same religion and views – the homogamy of couples.
As indicated in the review above, homogamy of parents can either be a cohesive
influence on family interactions or a source of conflict. Furthermore, the extent to
which a couple believes their marriage holds spiritual meaning is also likely to
affect their behavior (Mahoney et al. 2003).
Another significant limitation is an almost exclusive focus on adolescents. We
only located a handful of investigations that examined direct religious influences in
children younger than 11 years old (e.g., Schottenbauer et al. 2007). It remains an
open question as to how religion or spirituality might affect the well-being of
younger children.
The body of research is also significantly limited by its reliance on Judeo-
Christian samples in Western countries. For example, in a sample of 2,992 British
youth ages 11–19 years, those youth who had weak beliefs or who viewed religious
practice as unimportant were more likely to have emotional disorders (e.g., anxiety
and depressive disorders) compared to those with stronger beliefs or who held
religious practice as important (Meltzer et al. 2011). There is now similar evidence
beginning to emerge from other populations. For instance, from a sample of 325
Brazilian teenagers, there was some evidence that religiosity may protect youth
exposed to violence against risk for mental disorders (Huculak and McLennan
2010). In addition, findings from Muslim youth in the Middle East are beginning
to appear in the literature. Thus far, investigators arrive at similar conclusions:
Religion generally corresponds to a protective effect when assessing mental health
(e.g., Abdel-Khalek and Eid 2011). Still, we know from previously mentioned
studies of Chinese and Austrian youth that findings may be very different in some
cultural contexts. Exceptions like these indicate a continued need for research in
diverse contexts and religious faiths. We have barely begun to speculate on the
explanations for exceptional results, but only through continued study will we truly
be able to identify the reasons.
A final limitation with the body of work is that most studies analyze whether
religion is related to increases or decreases in negative behaviors such as delinquent
acts. A smaller proportion of studies look at relations to positive behaviors such as
prosocial and health promoting behaviors. For instance, Schottenbauer et al. (2007)
found that families’ church attendance was associated with more positive social
skills in third graders. More studies like this are needed to investigate other positive
effects, including variables such as moral development, empathy, compassion, and
forgiveness.
39.5.6 Summary
Overall, the empirical data indicate that religion and spirituality are indeed likely to
promote mental and emotional health in young people. However, in some cases, the
evidence indicates only modest effects, and with a small handful of studies, the
results indicate the opposite relation. The research, in general, shares several
limitations such as lack of precision in measuring religion, a reliance on Christian
adolescents, and a focus on problems. More research into the differences in
religiosity and religious practice is needed to better understand how religion can
influence the lives of children. In particular, we need a better understanding of what
may account for some of the inconsistencies that do arise.
39.6 Impaired Child/Youth Well-Being as a Consequence of

Maltreatment
Despite the strong evidence that religion is positively associated with children’s
well-being, we would be remiss if we did not review the literature on the relation of
religion and child maltreatment. The issue was mentioned previously with regard to
the physical health and the practices of circumcision, female genital mutilation, and
inoculations. However, there are many other examples of religious beliefs being
used to foster, promote, or rationalize child maltreatment. Child maltreatment
consists of both acts of commission (e.g., abuse) as well as acts of omission (e.g.,
neglect). Below, we just focus on acts of commission – physical abuse, psycholog-
ical maltreatment, and sexual abuse.
Religion being used to maltreat the young is not just found in some of the fringe
or fanatical churches that overly control and even abuse children and adult mem-
bers (e.g., Enroth 1992). For example, since the mid-1980s, the media has published
reports of the sexual abuse of children by Catholic priests (e.g., Plante 2004).
Another example occurred in 2008 when the Fundamentalist Church of Jesus Christ
of Latter-Day Saints gained considerable notoriety. Some of its members were
arrested in Texas because of the practice of polygamy and girls as young as 14 years
were forced to marry (Jacobson and Burton 2011).
Beyond newspaper headlines, there is evidence of four types of child maltreat-
ment related to religious beliefs: physical abuse, emotional abuse, medical neglect,
and sexual abuse by those with religious authority. Heimlich (2011) summarizes the
multiple forms of religious child maltreatment in her carefully researched book.
She concluded her book with the comments:
People of all faiths, and of none at all, bear responsibility for the welfare of society’s
youngest members. That responsibility begins with fulfilling children’s physical and
emotional needs so that they can fully develop into compassionate and loving adults.
Through the acknowledgement of children’s rights, we can take a big step toward eradi-
cating child maltreatment, including that which is perpetrated in the name of faith. (p. 326)
The most pervasive form of religion-sanctioned child maltreatment can be found

in conservative Protestant churches. As the historian Philip Greven detailed in two
monographs (1977, 1991), there is a long history in the United States of an
authoritarian orientation to parenting that Greven labeled the Protestant “tempera-
ment.” Based on the doctrine of original sin and those proverbs mentioned previ-
ously, a disciplinary dogma was developed that called for harsh corporal
punishment. According to this view, hitting children is considered necessary to
break the sinful will of children so that they become compliant to and respectful of
authority figures. That message continues to be preached in popular conservative
Protestant child-rearing guides (e.g., Dobson 1992; Ezzo and Ezzo 1995; Pearl and
Pearl 2002; Rosemond 2007).
Two studies have found support for an association for religious views and an
increased risk of abuse. Both in undergraduate students (Dyslin and Thomsen 2005)
as well as in a church-going sample made up predominantly of parents (Rodriguez
and Henderson 2010), individuals who were high on “extrinsic religiosity” (who
use religion for their own personal ends) were at greater risk to engage in child
abuse. In addition, the parents who were literalists in the latter study were also at
greater risk for engaging in maltreatment.
It is easy to see how corporal punishment can turn into physical abuse if a parent
follows the precepts of Michael and Debi Pearl (2004) found in their popular book
(with more than 670,000 copies sold). Spanking is described as an indispensable
tool for the removal of a child’s guilt. They write that infants as young as 5 months
old should be hit for climbing stairs and that a baby’s hair needs to be pulled in
retaliation for biting a nursing mother. They advocate using a switch (such as
a quarter-inch flexible pipe) on a 10-month-old infant who does not immediately
come to the parent when called and spanking a child for not eating breakfast.
Furthermore, they advise that the intensity or duration of a spanking should not
be reduced when a child starts crying.
Use your own judgment as to what is effective. I have found five to ten licks are sufficient.
As the child gets older, the licks must become more forceful if the experience is to be
effective in purging his rebellion. A general rule is to continue the disciplinary action until
the child has surrendered. (p. 46)
For children living in these families who are temperamentally disposed to resist
succumbing to the hitting, the likely consequence is they will be hit more forcefully
and more times. It is not difficult to see how this disciplinary philosophy can lead to
physical abuse. In fact, at least four children have been killed in recent years by
parents who were following the Perls’ child-rearing advice (Eckholm 2011).
Fortunately, most children subjected to religious-oriented corporal punishment
do not suffer such a fate. Although there is considerable evidence that children who
are spanked are likely to be more aggressive and have other emotion problems
(Gershoff 2002), being reared in a conservative Protestant family may moderate
that relation. One study has found that children of mothers who attended evangel-
ical or fundamentalist churches and were occasionally spanked at ages 2 to 4 were
less likely than children who were never spanked to be reported as having antisocial
or emotional problems 5 years later (Ellison et al. 2011). It could be that children
raised in the conservative Protestant tradition experience spanking as a more
normative behavior, and thus its common negative effects may be ameliorated.
A second explanation is that the conservative Protestant mothers may engage in
a more involved, coherent, and scripturally based child-rearing approach that is
more effective in promoting healthy socialization than the methods practiced by
other parents.
Even so, religious practices and be engaged in such that they result in psycho-
logical maltreatment. Examples can be found in autobiographies and anecdotal
accounts (see Heimlich 2011). These reports are replete with examples of Judeo-
Christian religious concepts, including “hell,” “the devil,” and “sin,” that are used
by parents and religious leaders to terrorize, degrade, and reject children. Many
religions or religious denominations condemn homosexuality. Consequently,
a homosexual youth may experience degrading criticism, demeaning comments,
and perhaps rejection. Isolation is another form that religiously based psychological
maltreatment can take. Children and youth can be isolated from other peers, people,
or ideas in service of religious beliefs. Well-meaning parents seek to protect their
children from materialistic cultures, drugs, violence, pornography, and other neg-
ative secular influences. But some parents go too far in isolating children and
limiting their freedom of thought and intellectual autonomy.
Sexual abuse of children has received more attention than psychological mal-
treatment, both in autobiographical accounts and some research studies (e.g., Fater
and Mullaney 2000; Rossetti 1995). In terms of clergy-perpetrated sexual abuse,
there are a number of autobiographical accounts as well as books on sexual abuse
not just in the Catholic Church, but also in yeshivas (Heimlich 2011; Plante 2004).
Several studies have addressed the question of how children are affected when
abused by clergy. At least one study indicates that religious-based physical
abuse has more negative effects when perpetrated by a religious leader or teacher
(Bottoms et al. 2003). Children experience a violation of a sacred trust which results
in serious, and in some cases, irreparable damage to their faith (Rossetti 1995).
Similarly, youth experience spiritual distress and rage following sexual abuse by
clergy (Fater and Mullaney 2000). However, the response to abuse can depend on
the gender of the perpetrator. If fathers rather than mothers are the perpetrators of
physical or psychological abuse, then their children have been found to be less
likely to abandon their faith (Bierman 2005).
In sum, child maltreatment occurs under the guise of religion, just as abuse
occurs in all segments of society (Barnett et al. 2011). Religiously influenced
maltreatment is not the norm. Clergy or religious adherents to religious faiths
should not be pathologized, just as Conservative Protestants are unlikely to be child
abusers, even if they rely on corporal punishment (Dyslin and Thomsen 2005).
Indeed, both church attendance and religiosity have been found to protect against
various forms of family violence (Socolar et al. 2008).
The fact that religion is sometimes misused to inflict maltreatment does not
imply that religion inhibits child well-being. Some practitioners of Christianity
have lived out their beliefs in such a way that results in unquestionable good for
children. For example, few individuals would dispute the benevolence of Mother
Teresa and her contributions to the welfare of the destitute of all ages. On the other
hand, as indicated above, atrocities against children continue to be committed in the
name of religion. Evidently, theological belief systems can be misused and goals
can become misguided. Understanding the mechanisms by which children are
influenced by religion can aid in the rehabilitation of maltreated children, the
prevention of future abuse, and the promotion of child well-being, the topic we
next address.
39.7 Why Is Religion Related to Children’s Well-Being?
Why is religion or spiritual belief linked with better child or adolescent health?
A number of different potential mechanisms are involved. Smith (2003) proposed
a conceptual framework for describing how religion can directly affect children
and youth on three dimensions: moral order, learned competencies, and social/
organizational ties. What he meant by moral order is that through religion,
children learn the moral directives of self-control and virtuous behavior. These
directives are facilitated through spiritual experiences as well as exposure to role
models. Learned competencies refer to the community and leadership skills many
youth accrue from being in youth groups and from engaging in benevolence
efforts. Religion also provides coping skills for dealing with life’s inevitable
hardships and tragedies as well as the benefits afforded by a rich cultural tradition.
Finally, Smith recognized the considerable influence of social and organizational
ties provided by religion.
There is some evidence to support Smith’s proposal that religion promotes
a sense of moral order in children. McCullough and Willoughby (2009) in their
review identified seven studies that found parents’ religiousness was related to
children’s self-control. Subsequently, two more studies on the topic have appeared.
In one, it was found that religious parents who used positive socialization tech-
niques reported their preschool children to be higher on a measure of conscience
development than other children (Volling et al. 2009). In a recent study using
a sample of 166 12–13-year-old youth, Laird et al. (2011) linked religion, self-
control, and antisocial behavior. They determined that religious youth were better
able to regulate themselves and were less likely to engage in antisocial or rule-
breaking behavior than less religious youth. Mothers’ religiosity was closely linked
to adolescent religious views and practices. Consequently, it was concluded that
religion in the parent plays a promotive and protective role in development.
Self-control also played an important meditational role along with personal
religiosity for refraining from drug use in a sample of middle school and high
school students in New York City (Walker et al. 2007). King and Furrow (2004)
found evidence for religious involvement being linked to greater altruism and
empathy. They proposed a key process of social capital resources (trusting inter-
actions with parents, other adults, and friends) that promote moral development
with an orientation toward more empathetic and altruistic behavior.
Another attribute of moral order is identity development (Erikson 1968). Reli-
gion can provide a ready-made identity for youth who may be struggling to
determine who they are and where they fit in society. For example, in a study of
more than 800 high school students, it was found that those students with faith
reported they had a personal philosophy or a “meaning framework” that provided
direction and fulfillment to their life (Furrow et al. 2004). Although well-being was
not assessed, prosocial concerns were. Those youth with a religious framework
indicated greater concern for others. Presumably, those who adopt prosocial values
and act on them will experience a sense of well-being through their contributions to
the common good. Religion as a source of meaning and purpose has been noted in
other studies as well, as Dew et al. (2008) reviewed. One other trait related to
identity development that has received some research attention is self-esteem.
There is good evidence that religion can influence child well-being through enhanc-
ing self-esteem (Cotton et al. 2006).
In terms of Smith’s second hypothesized process that religious involvement pro-
motes youth skill development, there is little evidence to support it. The only
supportive findings we were able to identify included a study in which religion was
found to promote resiliency by being a source of comfort and strength for coping with
adversities. By bolstering feelings of hope, optimism, self-esteem, belongingness,
and meaning, religion can be an important source of resiliency (e.g., Valentine and
Feinauer 1993). The social structure provided by religious organizations may also
afford youth opportunities for positive guidance from a mentor, the means to develop
leadership competencies, and other nonacademic learning experiences conducive to
positive development (Wong et al. 2006). Organized religion can also create ideo-
logical contexts and opportunities for experiences that may foster skill development
as well as positive self-perceptions (King et al. 2011). Unfortunately, at this point
there simply is not enough research upon which to draw firm conclusions about what
skills might be developed as a consequence of religious involvement.
In contrast to skill development, there is ample evidence that religious involve-
ment provides a ready-made system of social support. As one example, in a study
that included more than 6, 500 adolescents, it was found that church attendance was
associated with positive adjustment (Good and Willoughby 2006). Secondary
analyses indicated that the advantage associated with church attendance could
be explained by observations that teenagers became integrated into supportive
social networks. Similarly, it may be the presence of a moral/ethical system
provided by religious communities that acts to influence child well-being (Cotton
et al. 2006; Dew et al. 2008; Wong et al. 2006). Children are influenced and
supported by spiritual guides that include, depending on the faith, pastors, youth
ministers, priests, rabbis, imams, gurus, ayatollahs, mullahs, swamis, sages, and
even “godparents,” just to name a few (Mattis et al. 2006).
Table 39.2 Mechanisms associated with religious involvement hypothesized to promote child
well-being
Domain Variable
Child/youth Provides a clear moral code of behavior
Gives a sense of identity
Encourages greater self-control
Promotes character and conscience development
Marital domain Higher commitment and sense of spiritual relationship (sanctification)
Greater marital satisfaction
Less conflict, aggression, and likelihood of divorce
Parenting Regard pregnancy as spiritually significant
Greater involvement and affection
Firmer discipline
More harmonious interactions
More supervision
Model health-promoting behaviors
Guidance of developmental trajectory
Better coping in adversity
Reduced risk of child abuse
Social network Exposure to adults who are positive models
Availability of resources
Exposed to non-deviant peers
At a peer group level, having children and youth with others promotes good
behavior. Religions prescribe culturally sanctioned pathways for positive develop-
ment. The selective nature of the social support system and peer group can provide
a buffering effect against negative peer influences and related experiences. The
social structure may steer youth away from deviant peer influences and instead
toward more positive peer groups, a process referred to as peer channeling. This
may in turn decrease the probability of risky behaviors or other adverse outcomes.
This hypothesis was supported by the finding that friends’ religiosity was
a significant predictor of adolescents’ sexual debut (Adamczyk 2009). More pious
teenagers were less likely to engage in sex during early adolescence. It should be
noted that some evidence for a bidirectional relationship between religion and the
sexual practices of other teens was found. Teenagers who delayed sexual activity
tended to seek out more religious friends who also were not sexually involved with
others. Conversely, sexually active teens had a tendency to migrate to less religious
friends who were more likely to engage in sex.
Christian Smith (2003) omitted at least one major mechanism in his analysis of
how religion affects youth – the family. As Mahoney and her colleagues have
reviewed (Mahoney 2010; Mahoney et al. 2001), various aspects of the family can
influence children. In fact, there are both direct and indirect ways in which family
interactions can promote – or inhibit – positive development. Table 39.2 lists the
most commonly investigated mechanisms linking religion to child well-being.
Research investigations have increasingly documented the quality of interac-

tions present in religious families. Parents who share religious beliefs and prac-
tices are likely to experience good marital relations, marital satisfaction,
commitment, and better communication according to a recent review (Mahoney
et al. 2001). Furthermore, religious parents are less likely to experience verbal
conflict, physical aggression, and divorce, particularly if the parents are reli-
giously homogamous. At the family level, religious families tend to have more
cohesive family relationships and fewer problems, as Brody et al. (1996) found in
African American families.
However, these relations can also be influenced by religious homogamy –
whether parents share the same religious beliefs. At least one study has shown
that parental religious heterogamy can have a negative effect on child well-being.
When one parent is religious and the other is not, more marital conflict has been
found and children were more likely to report smoking marijuana and drinking
alcohol (Petts and Knoester 2007). However, the effects were limited: No links to
children’s self-esteem or school grades were found. Furthermore, if the heterogamy
is restricted to different affiliations within the Protestant denominations, then there
were no negative associations.
In terms of individual parenting practices, there is evidence that religious parents
interact and rear their children differently from nonreligious parents in several
ways. A recent review summarized the evidence in three areas of parent–child
relations: warmth and positivity, coping with child illness and other stressful child-
rearing experiences, and discipline (Mahoney, et al. 2001). In two of those areas,
there has only been limited research. To date, the eight studies on the topic found
that religious parents are consistently warmer and more positive than other parents.
More studies confirm that religion can play a prominent role in helping parents cope
with child-rearing adversity, including coping with pervasive developmental dis-
abilities and cancer. Presumably, parents who are coping better themselves are then
able to provide better quality child-rearing and thus promote child well-being, even
in the context of significant problems.
The third area, religion and parental discipline, has received the most extensive
attention of any of these areas. By 2001, at least 14 studies had been published on
the topic of parental disciplinary attitudes or behavior (Mahoney et al. 2001).
Conservative Protestant parents, as previously discussed, typically adopt
a distinctive disciplinary orientation. They value child obedience and compliance
as well as report using corporal punishment much more than other religious groups
(e.g., Ellison et al. 1996; Gershoff et al. 1999).
There are other aspects of parenting that apparently are also affected by religious
beliefs. To mention three findings concerning fathering, religious fathers have been
shown to be more involved in child-rearing, report higher quality parent–child
relationships, and to be less likely to yell at their children than other fathers
(Bartkowski and Wilcox 2000; King 2003; Knoester et al. 2007; Wilcox 2002, 2004).
Of course, not all religious fathers act the same way. Although few investiga-
tions have differentiated religious fathers, some work has examined parenting style.
In general, religion appears to promote better disciplinary practices in terms of
authoritative styles as opposed to authoritarian styles (Gunnoe et al. 1999, 2006).

This includes setting age-appropriate limits and demands of adolescents, without
excessive control (Mahoney 2010). At least one study demonstrated that parenting
style interacts with religion to result in differential outcomes for youth. Stewart and
Bolland (2002) found that both religiosity and parenting style were associated with
less adolescent substance use in a sample of over two thousand African American
adolescents.
Evidently, there are multiple mechanisms operating on the individual, family,
parenting, and in group context that work synergistically to provide a protective
factor to help youth avoid what Holden (2010a) called developmental “off-ramps.”
Common off-ramps for teens include early sexual activity, substance use, and
antisocial or delinquent behavior. Instead, the evidence indicates that religious
involvement is indeed likely, through multiple mechanisms, to help keep youth
developing on healthy trajectories.
39.8 Directions for Future Research
As this chapter has made clear, the study of the relation between religion and
children’s well-being has become a significant research area. Investigators into this
area have made significant progress in revealing some of the developmental
benefits derived from religious involvement. However, work in this area is still in
its early stages, and we identify three gaps or limitations in the knowledge base that
require attention as this area develops its knowledge base.
First, the characteristics of the participant included in studies need to be broad-
ened in three ways. The vast majority of the research utilizes adolescent Protestants
in the United States. Studies are needed to expand the database by including
participants with the following characteristics: young children, children
representing more diverse religions affiliations, and children from different coun-
tries. Although some investigations that include Muslim children are beginning to
appear, as well as studies with children from other countries (e.g., Abdel-Khalek
2011; Khan 2006), they only represent a small fraction of the studies in this area.
Second, more attention is needed to better understand how religion is linked to
child well-being. Each type of the four major mechanisms mentioned above needs
further explication, especially in terms of variables that may moderate or mediate
the links. For example, to what extent do parental religious messages influence
children’s developing identity and well-being? Longitudinal studies are also needed
to identify the causal role that religion can play in relation to family functioning or
crisis. Research investigating the relative roles of the different mechanisms is
needed to fully understand the extent to which beliefs and/or practices contribute
to well-being.
Finally, improved assessments of religiosity as well as of children’s functioning
are needed. All too often, assessments of religiosity are limited to a few cursory
survey items. As Mahoney and her colleagues (e.g., Mahoney et al. 2003) and
others have argued, there is a fundamental need to better assess how religion and
spirituality affects individuals. For example, their concept of “sanctification” refers

to the psychological process through which aspects of life are perceived as having
spiritual character and significance. This construct represents a promising variable
to further explicate religion’s impact on individuals’ beliefs and interpersonal
behaviors and to determine exactly what is needed to further refine assessments
of religiosity.
39.9 Conclusion
There is now strong correlational evidence that religion can be an important

determinant of children’s healthy development. This association has been
documented in many domains of development, including health behaviors, mental
and emotional health, as well as behavior problems. However, that does not mean
that all religious involvement is necessarily associated with positive development.
There are multiple accounts documenting how religion can be misused or used in an
authoritarian way that results in negative consequences. The mechanisms for these
relations are less well understood, but it appears that a number of different pro-
cesses are at work. In some cases, religious involvement directly affects youth, such
as through a strong social network provided by affiliation with religious groups.
This area is ripe for further investigation and refinement. These investigations will
help to better reveal the mechanisms through which religion is – and is not – a force
for promoting the well-being of children and youth.
Acknowledgments We thank Duaa Bayan for her assistance on the section regarding Islam and
Mark Chancey, Ph.D., for his thoughtful comments and suggestions.
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Religion, Spirituality, and Child Well-Being
40
Kurt Bangert
40.1 Introduction
Researchers and policy makers who looked into the concept of children’s well-
being have in recent years become increasingly aware of the fact that for all too long
the aspects of spirituality and spiritual well-being have been neglected or even
overlooked. Only lately has the aspect of spirituality come to the fore.
To be sure, there are other vital aspects of children’s well-being that certainly
require consideration, such as nutrition and health, life-skills development and
education, child protection and participation, and children’s rights. All of these
aspects have received increased attention over the last 25 years. After the
Convention on the Rights of the Child had been adopted by the United Nations in
November 1989 and signed by all UN states except Somalia and the USA, it
became necessary to ensure that children’s rights are actually adhered to in all
UN member states. According to the Convention, not only do children have rights
for survival, food, education, health, citizenship, protection, etc., but attention was
also to be given to the best interest of the child and a child’s well-being (UN 1989).
While the best interest of the child primarily implies the state’s obligation to
cater to the legal interests of the child versus the legal rights of the child’s parents,
the concept of a child’s well-being goes far beyond the legal aspects. Child
well-being not only implies an all-encompassing holistic notion but also has
a subjective connotation. Give children everything they need in terms of material
goods and services, but take from them the subjective sense of well-being, and they
will not fully flourish. There is more to child well-being than material commodities
and service benefits. Child well-being has much to do with psychology, relation-
ships, self-perception, and the role a child sees for herself or himself in the world in
which she or he lives. Child well-being has much to do with a child being allowed to
K. Bangert
World Vision Institute for Research and Innovation, Friedrichsdorf, Germany

1172 K. Bangert
live up to his or her potential. There has been a recent trend to emphasize children’s
subjective well-being and to carry out representative surveys with children
regarding the perception of their own well-being (such as the UK national survey
by The Children’s Society/University of York, Rees et al., 2010, the German World
Vision Kinderstudie 2007/2010, or the upcoming international Children’s Worlds
study by ISCI www.childrensworlds.org). In any case, it is also against the back-
drop of children’s subjective well-being that the concept of spirituality must gain
currency.
Spirituality is a rather recent and trendy but also somewhat fuzzy concept that
people sometimes like to make use of without being very clear about what they
mean by it. They may have an approximate idea of what it is, but may not be able to
exactly define it. In addition, there is some confusion about its relationship
with religion. Some people will see a close connection between spirituality and
religiousness, while others would be quick to point out a clear distinction
between the two. Nevertheless, spirituality is increasingly seen as an integral and
indispensible dimension of a child’s life, a child’s development, and a child’s
well-being. The “rediscovery” of the spiritual dimension may also be an effort to
zoom in on the essentials of life. This chapter is an attempt at defining spirituality
and making it work for the well-being of children.
40.2 Spirituality: Background
In this chapter, I shall address spirituality both as a recent social phenomenon and
as a new field of research, then discuss its relationship with religion and religious-
ness, make an attempt to define it, relate it to the concept of well-being, and ask the
question: How can it be measured – and achieved?
40.2.1 Spirituality as a New Social Phenomenon
Not only has there been an increased attention on spirituality in recent years, but
“there has been a distinct surge of interest in children’s spirituality” (Boyatzis 2008,
p. 43). In fact, “spiritual development may be at a ‘tipping point’ for becoming a
major theme in child and adolescent development,” say the editors of the Handbook
of Spiritual Development in Childhood and Adolescence (Roehlkepartain et al.
2006b). While Roehlkepartain et al. are not sure “whether the current popular
interest in spirituality is a passing fad or a long-term trend,” they do see evidence
that spiritual development “is a vital process and resource in young people’s
developmental journey” (Roehlkepartain et al. 2006b, ibid.).
According to David Tacey, spirituality, as it has recently emerged, is
. . . a spontaneous movement in society, a new interest in the reality of spirit and its healing
effects on life, health, community and well-being. It is our secular society realising that it
has been running on empty, and has to restore itself at a deep, primal source, a source which
is beyond humanity and yet at the very core of our experience (Tacey 2004, p. 1).
40 Religion, Spirituality, and Child Well-Being 1173
Possibly, the new interest in spirituality is a result of the process of seculariza-

tion which is defined here as the process by which religious views and values are
gradually abandoned altogether or replaced by nonreligious (i.e., secular) views and
values. While people are increasingly distancing themselves from traditional
churches and religious traditions, they nevertheless feel the need for honoring
a spiritual dimension that has been neglected for too long.
The process of secularization has not been uniform across the globe. According
to the World Values Survey conducted in 1999–2001, the importance of religion
dropped from 1990 to 2000 in most advanced industrialized countries, while in less-
developed countries, the importance of religion grew. That increase was apparently
due to the growth of evangelical groups, coupled with a general population growth.
The United States, a statistical outlier, also showed a light increase in the
importance of religion (Inglehart et al. 2004). Apparently, as countries develop
economically, “there is less emphasis on traditional religious values and more
emphasis placed on secular institutions” and “a growth in individual choice and
freedom of expression.” There is also an “inverse relationship between education
and religious practice” (Lippman and Keith 2006, p. 117) which suggests that the
more educated people become, the less religious they tend to be. Education in
general tends to contribute to secularization.
Whatever its causes, secularism has not offered a way of looking after people’s
inherent spiritual needs. Secularism cannot simply be substituted for religion.
“The problem is that no obvious alternative to religion has emerged with sufficient
power to act as a vehicle for the nurture of spiritual awareness” (Tacey 2004, p. 48).
Secularization may have been the answer to rigid and authoritarian forms of religions,
but it cannot satisfy the inner yearning of man for meaning and purpose. Hay, Reich,
and Utsch suggest “that the natural spiritual awareness common to all human beings
has, during the course of European history, become overlaid by a socially constructed
secularist critique that denies its reality” (Hay et al. 2006, p. 53).
People have become disenchanted with a secular world that provides little
meaning to their lives; they have become disillusioned also with an often unfair
and exploitative capitalistic system and, of late, with the hazards of the global
financial markets. Millions of people around the world are today questioning
the pursuit of materialism and crude secularism and are looking toward spirituality
for meaning and orientation. To be sure, spirituality will not solve all of the
world’s economical and political problems, but may lend critical and creative
new perspectives on them.
Hence, one may observe “a counter-cultural revolution, a romantic rebellion
against the rise of materialism, inhumanity, and economic rationalism” (Tacey
2004, p. 4), or, in short, we see a “spirituality revolution” – if we go by the title
of David Tacey’s book (2004). Tacey expresses the view of many when stating:
“We need spiritual guidance, but for a variety of historical reasons we cannot return
to organized religion or dogmatic theology in their old premodern forms” (Tacey
2004, p. 2). And yet we are also dissatisfied with a spiritless world and an empty
secularism that is virtually void of values and virtues. “We have imagined that we
have outgrown the sacred, and that notions of soul and spirit are archaisms of
1174 K. Bangert
a former era. When the hunger for the sacred erupts in our time, we don’t know how
to respond . . .” (Tacey 2004, p. 3).
That people tend to distance themselves from their inherited religions and
church affiliations, “makes some people shudder with horror, while others rejoice
at the new feeling of liberation and freedom from the strictures of the past”
(Tacey 2004, p. 2). In any case, organized religion is on the decline in many parts
of the world, but more and more people recognize that a secular society without
spiritual values cannot be the alternative to religious affiliation: “We are caught in
a difficult moment in history, stuck between a secular system we have outgrown
and a religious system we cannot fully embrace” (Tacey 2004, p. 2).
That is why we are observing an upsurge of spirituality nowadays – albeit that
spirituality may take many different forms and few people have as yet a clear
understanding of what it actually signifies. So there are good reasons why scholars
have begun to look at spirituality and what it can do for society – and for children.
40.2.2 Spirituality as a New Field in Child Research
In child research, there seems to be “a new burgeoning of scholarly interest in child and
adolescent spiritual development” (Roehlkepartain et al. 2006a, p. xiii). Researchers
have formed interest groups and convened conferences around these issues. There
appears to be “an emerging sense among developmental scholars that something has
been missing in the scholarship, and that domain is spiritual development”
(Roehlkepartain et al. 2006b, p. 2). While there may be a long history of reflecting
on spirituality, there can be no doubt that the topic has recently gained enormous
momentum.
According to some authors, the first research study dealing with children’s
spirituality was already published in 1892 (Ratcliff 2008, p. 21). But in those days
spirituality was primarily connoting religious occurrences and was considered as
being experienced within the confines of religious settings. In the first half of
the twentieth century, spirituality was no burning topic, but was still being discussed
within the field of religious education. Starting with the early 1960s, a cognitive
approach to the study of children’s religious education seems to have predominated,
and it was only by the late 1980s and early 1990s that an interest in children’s
spiritual experience moved to the foreground (Ratcliff 2008, p. 22).
In psychology, religion and spirituality were no topics to be taught or researched
extensively until the final quarter of the last century. In the USA, for one, “as
recently as 1980 a scholar who wanted to launch new research or teach a course in
this specialty would find that no systematic or comprehensive summaries of
research existed” (Paloutzian and Park 2005, p. 4). That has changed, however,
over the last 25 years. A copious stream of research evolved in the psychology of
religion, even at a time when the process of secularization went on unabated. Since
the turn of the millennium, spiritual well-being has become a hot topic.
It may be that the 9/11 terror attack on the World Trade Center in New York also
contributed to a general increase of interest in religious issues. People began to take
a closer look at the phenomenon of religious fundamentalism and extremism but

also at religion and spirituality in general. Even governments “rediscovered”
religion and employed theologians and religious scientists to advise them; books
began to be published on the topic of “religion and political development”; I myself
participated in several conferences on such topics and observed a general public
interest around religious and spiritual issues.
The new surge of interest in children’s spirituality can be documented by a
number of handbooks and monographs on the subject: The Handbook of Spiritual
Development in Childhood and Adolescence (Roehlkepartain et al. 2006a), the
Handbook of the Psychology of Religion and Spirituality (Paloutzian and Park
2005), Nurturing Children’s Spirituality (Allen 2008), Nurturing Child and Ado-
lescent Spirituality. Perspectives from the World’s Religious Traditions (Yust et al.
2005), and Children’s Spirituality. Christian Perspectives, Research, and Applica-
tions (Ratcliff 2004). Older works worth mentioning are The Spirit of the Child
(Hay and Nye 1998, 2006) and The Spiritual Life of Children (Coles 1990).
The last book mentioned here by Robert Coles, a Harvard scholar, has been
a landmark study in the field of children’s spirituality that subsequently prompted
further research. When hunting for theories on spirituality, one is tempted to
put Coles’ book aside quickly as one will not find much in it in terms of
definition, abstract analysis, or theoretical discussions. But on second look it
becomes clear that Coles had done what child researches have only lately endeav-
ored to do: He spoke with children, rather than just about them. He forewent
extensive theoretical analysis for the sake of conducting some 500 interviews and
recording many of them. Most of the children he questioned were between 8 and
12 years old – some as young as six. Coles used a narrative approach in order to
portray what it meant to be a child within a particular faith tradition such as
Christian, Jewish, or Muslim. But he also interviewed kids from “nonbelieving”
families, who also struggled with religious topics and wondered about life’s
meaning – “young human beings profane as can be one minute but the next,
spiritual” (Coles 1990, p. xviii). Take 12-year-old Eric, for instance, whose reflec-
tions are abridged below:
I’m not into religion . . . My dad laughs at religion a lot . . . Religion doesn’t mean much to
me – going to church; but I sure can stop and wonder about things . . . You look at the sky,
and you wonder what’s up there, except what we see, the sun and the moon and stars.
Anything else? Who knows? Not me! Most of the time, I’m just going from minute to
minute . . . It’s when something unexpected happens that I stop myself and ask what’s going
on: what’s it all about?. . . Then I’ll wonder how all that got going. Is there a God? Did He
get it all going? Are there other people somewhere in the universe? I guess you just wonder
about that kind of thing – and a lot of the time I stop myself and ‘get back to the basics,’. . .
But when there was this accident right near us, and the driver got killed, and we saw her
being taken from the car – they had to cut her out, she was ‘glued in,’ a cop said – you had to
stop and ask why that happened to her. And it wasn’t her fault. A drunk guy . . . smashed
into her, just like that!. . . I guess that’s what you do even at my age. I’ll be riding my bike
. . . and I’m wondering how much time I’ve got . . . and I’m thinking the kind of stuff –
I guess it’s what philosophers think. I’m thinking that I’m here, now, but one day I’ll be gone.
That’s far off, I hope, but it could be tomorrow. Look what happened to my cousin, Ned.
1176 K. Bangert
All he was doing – he was crossing the street, and that truck went wild, and he got killed . . .
It was later, in the night, that it really sunk in: Ned was gone. I’d never see him again! I was
lying on my bed, on by back . . . I just stared, and I thought. I was conscious of my whole
body. I made my toes move, and my hands; I bent my legs and lifted my arms – strange! I said
to myself, ‘You’re Eric, and you’re alive! Ned is gone – there’s no more Ned. You’re still
here, but there will be a time when you’re gone, too.’ (Coles 1990, p. 280–87)
Reflecting on such utterances of kids, religious or nonreligious, Coles

commented: “So it goes: with respect to faith and doubt, belief and unbelief, we
are all ‘on the edge’” (Coles 1990, p. 301). Eric’s account shows that at one point or
another, we all have reason to reflect on things unseen, things spiritual, things
beyond the material world. We all have our encounters with “the Spirit.” But
while children may not always readily talk about such encounters, “there is
a growing body of evidence that children have spiritual capacities and experiences –
moments, both little and large, that shape their lives in enduring ways” (Hart 2006,
p. 163). Hart was referring to a number of recent publications to that effect. He also
believed that “these varied experiences reveal a rich and significant spiritual
life that has gone largely unrecognized in the annals of child development
and yet may provide one of the most fundamental sources of human motivation”
(Hart 2006, ibid.).
One key researcher to look into such spiritual experiences of children was
Rebecca Nye who as a doctoral student assisted David Hay, then director of the
Religious Experience Research Centre at Oxford. Nye did some groundbreaking
fieldwork by interviewing primary school children regarding their spiritual experi-
ences. She gave account of her survey in two chapters of Hay’s book The Spirit of
the Child (Hay and Nye, first edition: 1998, second edition: 2006). In the first
chapter, she recounts some of her “religious dialogues,” while in the second she
deals with what she calls the “core of children’s spirituality.” While Cole had found
an obvious dimension even in nonreligious children, Nye could testify to some of
the intense doubts that troubled even the most religious kids. In fact, even when
there was a strong sense of the divine, children could have a feeling of uncertainty
and skepticism regarding their own religious experience. In quite ambiguous terms,
10-year-old Maggie told of how sometimes God spoke to her: “Weird, because
I think like he’s talking to me. But I never know whether it’s him or whether it’s
just what I want him to say, and that’s my conscience. I never know” (Hay and
Nye 2006, p. 100).
While on the one hand it was clear to Nye “that children’s spirituality could
not be divorced from their individuality,” it also “became necessary to make
comparisons between children” (Hay and Nye 2006, p. 107) and to come up with
what she called a “superordinate core category” to provide an interpretive key to the
otherwise very individualistic notions children have about their spiritual
experiences (Hay and Nye, The Spirit of the Child, 2006, p. 99). However, rather
than bringing to the table a ready-made definition of spirituality or spiritual
experience, Nye extensively analyzed the conversations she had with the children
in order to apply a grounded theory approach, i.e., a bottom-up method instead of
a top-down approach (Glaser and Strauss 1967). The challenge for Nye was how
to compare the different experiences without having developed a set of criteria by

which to judge these experiences. Or in other words: “How do You Start Without
a Starting Point?” – as was the title given to a report on Nye’s work in the
prestigious British Journal of Religious Education (Allen 2008, p. 35). Nye wanted
to see if it was possible, by carefully analyzing and scrutinizing what the children
had told her, to “expose a core category that would ‘tell the story’ of the phenom-
enon being studied” (Hay and Nye 2006, p. 108).
On the basis of her grounded theory approach, Nye came up with what she
termed relational consciousness which encompasses not only the I-others relation-
ship but also the I-self, I-world, and I-God relationships. Children’s spirituality
can be reflected in children’s “feelings and thoughts about their relationship with
God” (p. 115), but it can also be seen in children’s reflection on interpersonal
relationships. Other children relate to the natural world and the beauty of nature as
a primary context for spiritual consciousness, while many kids express their
spirituality in terms of thinking about themselves and their own identity:
Why am I here? How did I get here? None of these aspects can be taken as
the only avenue for spirituality. It is in combination that “they help to specify
the properties of children’s spirituality when revealed as ‘relational consciousness’”
(p. 118).
This relational consciousness was more than just being alert or mentally
attentive. It was an awareness of what was going on in the children’s own mind
in terms of their own relational reflections. Nye called this their “objective insight
into their subjective response,” a kind of meta-consciousness; it was a “special
sense that added value to their ordinary or everyday perspective” (p. 109).
The children displayed a sense “of being objectively aware of themselves as
‘subject,’” and that helped them “to perceive their world in relational terms.”
Nye believed that “in this ‘relational consciousness’ seems to lie the rudimentary
core of children’s spirituality, out of which can arise meaningful aesthetic
experience, religious experience, personal and traditional responses to mystery
and being, and mystical and moral insight” (ibid.).
Nye certainly has to be given credit for having pulled this core from the
conversations she conducted and recorded. But the children, too, have to be given
credit for being so perceptive of their own spiritual experience and for articulating
their awareness for these distinct forms of relationship.
While subsequent research may not have confirmed all of Hay’s and Nye’s
insights, most researchers that followed have at least taken Hay/Nye as a
reference point. Hay and Nye both have to be commended for placing children at
the center of their own spirituality and for prompting further research so that
“children’s spirituality is receiving attention from scholars like never before”
(Boyatzis 2008, p. 54).
One thing seems to be clear from the research so far: Children are spiritual from
the start. They seem to have “a natural inclination towards spirituality” (ibid., p. 47);
in fact “children are spiritual beings first, and then are socialized and acculturated
(or not) into a religious tradition” (ibid.). Some have even argued that spirituality
is “an expression of a bodily predisposition” (Hay and Nye 2006, p. 23)
1178 K. Bangert
“which can either be obscured or enhanced by culture” (p. 141). So it would only be
right to recognize what has always been there, what has always been common to
humans, and what a secular society has all too often overlooked or even denied: that
spirituality is an important part of human life, even children’s lives; that we all are
in need of making sense of what life is all about; and that spirituality is also a key to
our general well-being. Consequently, the spiritual well-being of children must be on
our agenda.
But if spirituality has always been part of human life, so has religion. Do both
not go inextricably together? Are we not talking here of one and the same phe-
nomenon? Or are they to be distinguished from another? Let’s have a closer look.
40.2.3 Spirituality Versus Religiousness
In order to better understand spirituality and its implications for child well-being,
it will be useful to distinguish it from religiousness and show where the two converge
and diverge. I will show here that not only do people in general have quite an
ambiguous feeling about religion but that religion itself is ambiguous in nature.
It has a dark side to it as well as a bright side. But where does spirituality come in?
While the term spirituality is seen by many to be closely related to and connected
with religion, it is more often than not considered something to be distinguished
from religion and religiousness. There appears to be some overlapping but also
a distinct variance. “A few people see very little difference between religion and
spirituality. Many more make a clear distinction” (Hay and Nye 2006, p. 19).
“Spirituality is often described in personal or experiential forms, whereas religious-
ness includes personal beliefs as well as institutional beliefs and practices,” say
King and Benson (King and Benson 2006, p. 384).
According to the report With Their Own Voices, “youth struggle with the
relationship between religion and spirituality” (Search Institute 2008, p. 6).
A substantial proportion of the youth questioned by the Search Institute considered
themselves both spiritual and religious (34 %). Another large group (24 %)
indicated they are spiritual but not religious. A sizable third of the youths surveyed
considered religion as “usually bad.”
When David Tacey, an Australian psychology professor, questioned his own
students whether religion and/or spirituality was a concern in their lives, 47 out of
50 students “indicated that personal spirituality was a major concern in their lives,
while only two students said that religion was important” (Tacey 2004, p. 14).
In another similar survey conducted by Tacey, 115 out of 125 were concerned about
spirituality; only 10 said they were pleased to follow a religion.
David Hay has for some years used brainstorming sessions with students to
discuss the links between religion and spirituality and had his students jot down
associations linked with religion first, then spirituality. He summarized those
sessions as follows:
Religion tends to be associated with what is publicly available, such as churches, mosques,
Bibles, prayer books, religious officials, weddings and funerals. It also regularly includes
uncomfortable associations with boredom, narrow-mindedness and being out of date, as well
as more disconcerting links with fanaticism, bigotry, cruelty and persecution . . . Spirituality
is almost always seen as much warmer, associated with love, inspiration, wholeness, depth,
mystery and personal devotion like prayer and meditation (Hay and Nye 2006, p. 19).
Hay observed that the critique against religion was not just advanced by
outsiders. It is often made by those well ensconced within their religious group or
faith. Even children can well distinguish between religion and spirituality. Robert
Coles, in reviewing the experience of his own sons participating in religious
services, says he “got weary of (sometimes really annoyed by) some of the pieties
the children brought home,” but one day he became “forever a fan of such
educational experience” when, to his great surprise, one of his boys announced:
“There’s religion and there’s the spirit.” Asked where he got that idea from, the
10-year-old referred to St. Paul who had spoken of “the letter and the spirit.”
The teacher had explained that going to church and observing all the church laws
doesn’t make you spiritual (Coles 1990, S. xvii). Other children, too, whom Coles
had interviewed portrayed insights sometimes “sharply critical of organized
religion,” even when they themselves belonged to such a religion. “There is
certainly an overlap for many children between their religious life and their spiritual
life” (Coles 1990, p. xvii).
Tracey felt that these young people “realize, often with some desperation, that
society is in need of renewal, and that an awareness of spirit holds the key to our
personal, social, and ecological survival” (Tracey, p. 2). While religion has
often been associated with top-down hierarchies, spirituality has been considered
as something like a “democratic movement from below” (Tacey 2004, p. 3).
Inasmuch as many young people – not only in Western countries – are abandoning
organized religion as it appears too restricted to them, they are embracing
new forms of spirituality. However, there are also some who tend to throw out
the baby with the bath water: In forsaking religion, they also give a cold shoulder to
anything spiritual. “The confusion of spirituality and religious fundamentalism
causes reasonable people to reject both, in the belief that humanity is better
off without the sacred . . .” (Tacey 2004, p. 12). But many do make the distinction,
some considering themselves spiritual, but not religious; others think of themselves
as both.
People tend to distance themselves from religion and religious institutions not
only because they have been caught within the vagaries of secularism – sometimes
quite unwittingly – but also because they have observed the consequences of
religious extremism and fundamentalism, such as was responsible for the 9/11
attack on the World Trade Center, or the kind that puts creationism in constant
conflict with the natural sciences.
Spirituality is religious pursuit largely without religion and outside of religion.
“The spirituality revolution is also about finding the sacred everywhere, and not just
where religious traditions have asked us to find it” (Tracey 2004, p. 4). Even the
term spirituality itself is an opportunity, as it offers the chance to be spiritual
without the constraints and control of religion and its power brokers. Religion, so
it seems, is for the religious people; spirituality for all. “Spirituality is now the
1180 K. Bangert
concern of everyone, religious or secular, young or old, atheist or believer, educated

or otherwise . . .” (Tacey, p. 2).
In order for us to better distinguish between spirituality and religion, it will be
good to understand the ambiguity of religion. This will also help us to better
understand the nature of spirituality.
It needs no research or footnotes to propose that religion can bring out both the
best and worst in man. Religion is dubious and ambiguous. Comparative religion
can help us to understand that ambiguity: It has distinguished between a substantive
definition of religion and a functional definition of religion. The substantive
definition is what has been considered (notably by Rudolf Otto, but also Mircea
Eliade, Max Weber, or Gustav Mensching) as the encounter with the Holy,
the Sacred, the Transcendent, the Irrational, the Numinous, also known as the
mysterium tremendum (Otto 1917/2004). Religion, in this sense, is not only the
encounter with the Transcendent but also man’s response to it. It is this encounter
with the Sacred that we normally call a religious experience. The experience of the
Holy is what theistic religion would call experiencing God. According to
Paul Tillich, the Holy “is a very important ‘doorway’ to understanding the nature
of religion, for it is the most adequate basis for understanding the divine”
(Tillich 1951, p. 215).
The functional definition of religion, on the other hand, rather than looking
at religious experience, has to do with the functional or operative expressions
of religions. This perspective was brought forth by such scholars as Emile
Durkheim, Ninian Smart, Thomas Luckmann, Joachim Wach, or Clifford Geerth.
Ninian Smart, for instance, distinguished seven functional aspects of religion:
(1) ritual, (2) mythology, (3) ethics, (4) theology, (5) experience, (6) institutions,
and (7) outward representation (such as symbolism, religious art, and architecture)
(Smart 2002). The mere mention of these functional or sociological aspects of
religion is probably sufficient to suggest that the dark side of religion is most likely
to be found within the minefield of religious functionality and outward appearance,
rather than with a genuine religious experience. It is more in the external forms of
religion (including formulated dogma) and less in the religious encounters that we
must see the dark and dubious nature of religion.
Hence, William James rightfully distinguished between personal religion and
institutional religion (James 1902/1936). And Tobin Hart (2006), in discussing
spirituality, went a step further and equated spirituality with James’ personal
religion, setting personal religion and/or spirituality in contrast to formal religion.
Spirituality, according to Hart, could be taken as the very direct and intimate
experience of divinity:
That divinity is the incomprehensible life force that remains so difficult to pin down, but to
which we try to point with words like God or spirit. These experiences may emerge as
a sense of interconnection or compassion, a revelatory insight, a quest for meaning, a sacred
other, and so forth (Hart 2006, p. 164).
So a definition of spirituality that would lend itself to positively influencing child

well-being must distinguish itself from the potential dark sides of religion without
denying the genuine religious or spiritual experience which is almost always

perceived as being positive – at least by those who have reported such experiences.
The point is that the overlap between religion and spirituality will be in what may be
termed experience – call it religious or spiritual. The experience with the mysterium
tremendum is what constitutes true religion or true spirituality.
40.2.4 The Spiritual Experience
A spiritual (or religious) experience has been defined as “a melting of boundaries”

and “a merging with the surrounding environment” and also as a “cosmic
consciousness,” “a unity with all,” and “the attainment of self-actualization”
(Newberg and Newberg 2006, p. 184). But according to Andrew Newberg, the
leading authority of “neurotheology,” a spiritual experience may “reside along
a continuum from relatively brief feelings of ‘awe’ to profound unitary states”
(ibid.). “While it is difficult to define what makes a given experience spiritual, the
sense of having a union with some higher power or fundamental state of being
seems a crucial part of spiritual experiences” (ibid., p. 185). A “unitary state”
experience is at the extreme end of the continuum, says Newberg, and it is described
in the mystical literature of all the great religions. “When a person is in that state he
or she loses all sense of discrete being, and even the difference between self and
other is obliterated. There is no sense of the passing of time, and all that remains is
a perfect timeless undifferentiated consciousness” (ibid.). There is no place here to
describe the kind of brain activity to be observed when people meditate or contem-
plate. Suffice it to say that any human experience is ultimately processed by the
brain, in one way or another. Newberg is first to admit that “the brain therefore can
only provide a ‘secondhand rendition’ of external reality” (ibid., p. 184). According
to David Hay, when a person has a spiritual experience,
It is as if the psychological distance between the self and the rest of reality is shortened or
disappears. People realize that they are inextricably part and parcel of manifold reality,
hence it becomes more important to them to care for the rest of reality. In a direct and
concrete sense, when any part of the environment is damaged, they experience it as
personal damage and from this direct insight grows compassion (Hay and Nye 2006,
pp. 164–65).
So there seems to be ample evidence of the phenomenon of spiritual experience.

But spiritual experiences can be of different types and along a broad spectrum of
incidents and occurrences that are interpreted as being spiritual. Each individual
will experience his or her own spirituality in many different ways.
Can children have spiritual experiences? Certainly.
For one, children, enjoying an inherent sense of wonder and awe in the first
place, have sometimes had spiritual experiences at a very young age that shaped the
rest of their lives. Not all children, however, will have such dramatic experiences as
Catherine of Siena who had a revelation at six or Hildegard of Bingen who had
spiritual visions at three, but children are susceptible to encountering various
types of incidents that may be considered spiritual experiences (see below a list
1182 K. Bangert
of spiritual experiences young people reported on, according to With Their

Own Voices).
In the report With Their Own Voices, the authors asked young people what type
of spiritual experience they have had. 50 % or more young people admitted having
had these types of experiences: (1) having inner strength to make it through
a difficult time; (2) feeling a profound inner peace; (3) feeling an overwhelming
sense of love; (4) experiencing God’s energy, presence, or voice; (5) experiencing
a feeling of emotional closeness or connection to the people around you; (6) meeting
or listening to a spiritual teacher or master; (7) feeling of oneness with the earth and
all living things; seeing a miraculous (or not normally occurring) event; and
(8) experiencing a healing of your body (or witnessing such a healing). It must be
said, however, that not in all cases did these young people attach a spiritual meaning
to these experiences!
For another, children have a basic propensity and capacity for connecting
themselves to others. Unless that predisposition is thwarted through neglect,
abuse, or violence, children develop, very early in their life, what in German is
called Urvertrauen (basic sense of ultimate trust) from which grows
Selbstvertrauen (self-confidence). It is this urvertrauen (Erikson 1973) that enables
them to master life in general and to prevail over the adversities and difficulties that
may be put in their way, but more importantly, it allows them to trust other human
beings and to connect themselves to them. Children’s spiritual needs (“Who am I?
Where do I come from? Where am I going?”) seem to be closely linked to their
social-emotional needs (“Who do I belong to?”). In fact, “the need for connection to
human attachment figures parallels that of connection to the sacred or divine,” say
Granqvist and Dickie (2006, p. 201).
So children can be said to have spiritual experiences, not only because they have
a keen sense of connecting themselves to the people about them but also because
they have a receptive inclination to experience the Spiritual.
Some would rightly argue that one can be spiritual without having a spiritual (or
religious) experience. Indeed, it may be debated whether spirituality would always
imply an actual experience of (or encounter with) some kind of mysterium
tremendum – that some may even denigrate as being “esoteric” – or whether
spirituality could simply be understood as a general attitude of spirituality, rather
than an experience of spirituality. An experience of spirituality would signify some-
thing that overpowers or befalls us in that we become the recipients, as it were, of
such metaphysical incidents (Widerfahrnis). An attitude of spirituality, on the other
hand, would be a mind-set or predisposition which would allow us to engage in
spirituality and become open and receptive for spiritual insights and experiences.
I would like to suggest that, rightly understood, spirituality could actually be
both in that there may not be much difference between attitude and experience.
Perhaps it takes an attitude of spirituality to have spiritual experiences. Conversely,
in order for a certain experience to be interpreted as “spiritual” would require an
attitudinal predisposition toward spirituality. That means, if a person has
a spiritual attitude, his or her whole life could become a spiritual experience, a
spiritual journey. And if, as David Hay has argued (Hay and Nye 2006, p. 162ff),
we as humans all have a natural, inborn, even genetically embedded propensity

toward spirituality (see also Andrew Newberg’s Why God Won’t Go Away and
Dean Hamer’s The God Gene), then by cultivating, rather than disregarding, that
spiritual predisposition, we could all become susceptible to the experience of
spirituality.
With that, we are already in the very midst of the crucial question on how to
define spirituality for the purpose of better understanding spiritual well-being and
well-being in general; but before we address the definition problem in more detail,
let’s look at an important landmark study that will help us ascertain what young
people around the world are thinking about religion and spirituality.
40.2.5 A Review of the Study With Their Own Voices
In a global research endeavor, the Center for Spiritual Development in Childhood

and Adolescence (Search Institute) explored and surveyed what young people aged
12–25 in 17 countries think of spiritual development. The center published With
Their Own Voices in 2008, a preliminary report on the first findings after having
surveyed 6,500 youths in eight countries and gathering insights from focus groups
in 13 countries. The researchers started out by stating some of their operating
hypotheses which assumed that spiritual development (1) is an intrinsic part of
being human; (2) involves both an inward journey and an outward journey; (3) is
a dynamic, nonlinear process that varies by individual and culture; (4) cannot be
separated from other aspects of one’s being; and (5) can be distinguished but not
separated from religious development.
They also assumed that there is “a constant, ongoing, and sometimes difficult
interplay with three core developmental processes.” While these three processes
receive different emphases in different cultures and traditions, they nevertheless
play an essential role in understanding spiritual development. The three core
processes identified were as follows: (1) connecting and belonging – seeking,
accepting, or experiencing significance in relationships and interdependence with
others, the world, or one’s sense of the Transcendent (often including an under-
standing of God or a higher power) and linking to narratives, beliefs, and traditions
that give meaning to human experience across time; (2) becoming aware of or
awakened to self and life – being or becoming aware of or awakening to one’s self,
others, and the universe (which may be understood as including the sacred or
divine) in ways that cultivate identity, meaning, and purpose; and (3) developing
a way of living – expressing one’s identity, passions, values, and creativity through
relationships, activities, and/or practices that shape bonds with oneself, family,
community, humanity, the world, and/or that which one believes to be transcendent
or sacred (ibid.).
According to the authors, spiritual development must be separated from other
aspects of one’s being; it must be relevant across gender, age, and socioeconomic,
cultural, and ethnic differences; it ought to be seen as involving an inward as well as
an outward journey; spirituality must be seen as contributing to human development
1184 K. Bangert
and hence being connected with other areas of development; it must be recognized as
a dynamic, nonlinear process that varies by individual and cultural differences;
spirituality may be approached in many different ways among individuals, cultures,
and traditions; it can be distinguished but not entirely separated from religious
development; spirituality may be seen as having the potential to contribute to the
well-being of self and/or others but also to harm self and/or others. According to the
authors, spirituality must also be defined without, however, giving the impression to
be final or comprehensive, thus inviting continued dialogue and exploration.
The study yielded some interesting results: Most young people surveyed believe
life has a spiritual dimension; only 7 % thought life had no spiritual dimension.
More than half said they had experienced a feeling of oneness with the earth and all
living things, but not all thought this was a spiritual experience. Many young people
want to talk about spiritual matters; a third said they frequently (at least monthly)
talked about such issues with friends. Most young people see themselves as being
spiritual, and most see themselves doing well spiritually; the rate for considering
themselves spiritual was highest in Thailand (88 %) and lowest in Australia (53 %).
Youths in the USA and the UK were most likely to say they were doing well
spiritually. Young people see spiritual development as “part of who you are” but
also as an intentional choice; seven of ten youths believe life has a meaning or
purpose. More than half (55 %) of the youth believed their spirituality had increased
over the last 3 years. Many youths believe in God or a higher power. Only 8 % said
they did not believe this, and 10 % did not know either way.
In asking what spirituality means, several options were given to them. Among
the answers most frequently given were (1) believing in God, (2) believing there is
a purpose in life, (3) having a deep sense of inner peace or happiness, and (4) being
true to one’s inner self. Which answer received the most affirmation depended very
much on the country and/or culture in which the question was asked. It is important
to note, however, that by giving choices to the youth surveyed, they were of course
somewhat predisposed to these answers. Hence, the answers given are probably to
be taken with a grain of salt.
For many young people, the concept of transcendence (to be understood as the
dimension that is beyond the visible world) is integral to an understanding of
spirituality. The answer most often given as being relevant to spirituality was the
notion of all living creatures being connected to each other. When asked about their
belief in a God, 57 % said they believe there is a God; 18 % said they believe in
a higher power, but not in a personal God; and 7 % believe in many gods or
goddesses. Only 8 % say they don’t believe in any God/gods/goddesses, and 10 %
did not know what to believe on this point.
When requested to choose one of only six items (family, friends, religious orga-
nizations, school, youth organization, or no one) while being asked “Who helps you
most in your spiritual life?” most of them opted for the family (44 %), friends were
next (15 %) with religious organization following close behind (15 %), while school
and youth organization were rarely mentioned (6 % and 4 %, respectively). Almost
one fifth of the respondents chose “no one” for their answer (18 %).
We see from this study that young people can easily relate to the concept of
spirituality. Many feel that life does have a spiritual dimension and that it is relevant
to them. Even though their answers to the questionnaire may at times have been
predisposed by the nature of the questions or the optional answers submitted to
them, these answers nevertheless reveal much of the nature of spirituality as seen by
young people. According to them, spirituality has something to do with what is
beyond the self; it has to do with finding purpose and meaning in life, experiencing
inner peace and happiness, and being true to oneself. Spirituality also has much to
do with relationships: being close to the people around you but also to all living
creatures and even to the environment. Many young people have had what can (but
must not necessarily) be interpreted as spiritual experiences. A personal God may
or may not be constitutive to their spirituality.
With these empirical results before us, let us now move to actually define
spirituality.
40.3 How Can Spirituality Be Defined?
In order to show that spirituality can have a positive effect upon children’s
well-being, it is now necessary to clearly define spirituality. Having distinguished
between spirituality and religiousness, having discussed the phenomenon of the
spiritual experience, and having looked at what children and youth think of
spirituality, we will now look at how other scholars have tried to define spirituality.
On the basis of their insights – but more so on the basis of what has surfaced
(by way of grounded theory) from children’s own perceptions of spirituality – we
hope to arrive at a definition that is comprehensive enough to lend itself for
examining spirituality’s effects on child well-being.
40.3.1 The Vagueness of Spirituality
While most people have a general idea about what spirituality is, few have a clear-
cut definition for it. “Spirituality is a topic on which everyone is an expert”
(Gorsuch and Walker 2006, p. 101). Even among scholars, the term spirituality
has been used in many different ways, and there is by no means a consensus about
its meaning. Donald Ratcliff and Rebecca Nye concluded that “the innovative
nomenclature employed to describe spirituality” is a special challenge for the
immediate future of research as that “terminology can vary significantly from study
to study when even the definition of what is being studied is fluid . . .” (Ratcliff and
Nye 2006, p. 481). Hanan Alexander and David Carr express a similar view:
Spirituality is difficult to define because of deep ambiguities of everyday usage that have
encouraged educational theorists, policy makers, and practitioners to pursue diverse social,
cultural, and political aims, agendas, and outcomes in the name of spiritual education
(Alexander and Carr 2006, p. 74).
1186 K. Bangert
Gill Main, in an as yet unpublished study on religion, spirituality, and well-

being, noted that “many authors have highlighted the lack of clarity and differen-
tiation between terms in studies of the impact of religion and spirituality,” and she
asked for “clearer definitions and distinctions” between those terms (Main 2010).
There may be good reasons for this absence of a clear definition of spirituality.
Perhaps, spirituality is too complex a concept as to lend itself for an exact defini-
tion. It is rather elusive and ephemeral in nature and is perhaps reflecting the
complexity of life in general. Rebecca Nye is probably right in observing that
Attempts to define [spirituality] closely, and derive an adequate ‘operational definition’ can
be sure of one thing: misrepresenting spirituality’s complexity, depth and fluidity. Spiritu-
ality is like the wind – though it might be experienced, observed and described, it cannot be
‘captured’ – we delude ourselves to think otherwise, either in the design or research or in
analytical conclusions (Nye 1999, p. 58).
But despite that notion, it was none other than Nye who had come up, as we have
already seen, with a “core of children’s spirituality,” which she defined as relational
consciousness. It was an awareness of children about what was going on in their
own mind with regard to the importance of their relationships with themselves,
to others, to the world, and to God. Nye spoke of a meta-consciousness that allowed
children to look into and beyond themselves. Despite the difficulty of defining
spirituality, Nye made an important contribution to narrow that definition to some
of its essentials. Furthermore, children questioned by Coles, Nye, or the Search
Institute have given us ample evidence from which to draw a valid definition of
spirituality.
I will now zoom in (telescopically, so to speak) on what I believe is the core of
spirituality and, having done so, zoom out to giving a (wide-angle) comprehensive
definition of the term.
40.3.2 Toward a Core Definition
In a consensus report on spirituality and health, sponsored by the US-American

National Institute for Healthcare Research, spirituality was described as “the
feelings, thoughts, experiences, and behaviors that arise from a search for the
sacred” (Larson et al. 1998). The interesting notion about this definition is not
only the term sacred here but also the search aspect. Spirituality as the encounter
with the sacred, so the implication, is not something that one achieves or arrives at,
but something that is being pursued. Koenig et al. define spirituality as “the
personal quest for understanding answers to ultimate questions about life,
about meaning and about relationship with the sacred or transcendent” (Koenig
et al. 2001, p. 18).
Roehlkepartain et al., in their keynote chapter with which they introduce their
Handbook of Spiritual Development in Childhood and Adolescence, start off with
two definitions they think may be a good starting point. The first one, by
Robert Coles, is perhaps not so much a definition as it is a description of the

human dilemma which may lie at the basis of all spirituality:
We are the creatures who recognize ourselves as “adrift” or as “trapped” or as “stranded” or
as being in some precarious relationship to this world; and as users of language, we are the
ones who not only take in the world’s “objects” but build them up in our minds, and use
them (through thoughts and fantasies) to keep from feeling alone, and to gain for ourselves
a sense of where we came from and where we are and where we’re going (Coles 1990, p. 8).
The human dilemma of feeling alone, stranded, and cast away – like Robinson
Crusoe on his remote island – may indeed be the substratum that requires us to look
not only for life’s meaning and purpose but also for some way of connecting
ourselves to others, to the universe, to God, and to that which is beyond ourselves.
Then the Handbook presents a second quote, by P. L. Benson et al., that thanks to
its succinctness can hardly be improved upon in terms of a general and yet concise
definition of spirituality:
Spiritual development is the process of growing the intrinsic human capacity for self-
transcendence, in which the self is embedded in something greater than the self, including
the sacred (Benson et al. 2003).
According to that definition, spirituality has to do with a person’s self-

transcendence, i.e., one’s consciousness of being embedded into something
greater than oneself. This “something greater” may ultimately be the universe or
a transcendent reality or God. But it may also be something much less: such as
learning to be empathetic with one’s brother or sister or a friend or a person in need.
In any case, being spiritual means to go beyond ourselves. Self-transcendence, then,
may well be considered the crucial issue of spirituality. I consider this to be an
excellent workable definition that seems to encapsulate what may indeed be
the core of spirituality – although it does not, of course, reflect all the different
facets, intricacies, connotations, and complexities of spirituality which the term
also entails.
Roehlkepartain et al., after offering the above definition as a “starting point,”
then encourage other authors “to articulate their own approach and assumptions,
in hopes that the resulting diversity enriches the dialogue and understanding”
(2006b, p. 6).
If we take the two citations together, then spiritual development may be under-
stood as the process by which we are lifted from our own human dilemma of being
alienated and “cast away” on a lonely planet, if you will, in order to connect
ourselves with the outside world (including the Sacred) by first looking inside
ourselves and then beyond ourselves. That, I think, is meant by self-transcendence.
Human life, if it is to be spiritual, may be understood as a journey from a castaway
self to the whole (of the universe) and back to the self. But in returning to its
own self by having connected itself to the whole, the self is regaining itself, or
rather “its self,” in a new way, namely, as a connected self, as a self that is conscious
of its identity with the whole (i.e., with the world about us, even with the whole
universe). A person conscious of being connected (or being one) with others, with
the world, and with the transcendent being is a spiritual person.
1188 K. Bangert
The experience of self-transcendence, i.e., the realization of being connected to

the whole, is at the core of spirituality. In this experience, the self is not dissolved by
the whole but enshrouded by it. (Incidentally, the German word aufgehoben
has both meanings: dissolved and enshrouded; but it is the latter meaning in the
sense of “being held secure” which is applicable here). In the experience of self-
transcendence, the self remains intact; in fact, the self comes to its true self by being
held secure through its connection with the whole, with the Holy, and with the
ultimate transcendence. So the quest for spirituality may be understood as a journey
from the (castaway) self to the whole and back to a regained and connected self.
We are not alone.
But, maybe it’s the other way around: Maybe our spiritual existence is not so
much a journey from the self to the whole and back to the self, but instead a voyage
from the whole to the self and back to the whole, for our identity with the whole can
also be considered to be our very first primordial state. If that sounds enigmatic, it
will require some explanation.
When the human fetus develops in the maternal uterus, it subconsciously
experiences itself as being one with the only universe it knows: mother’s womb.
Inside, there is no distinction between the self and the world! The self and the
universe are one! At birth, that begins to change; the newborn is “cast away,” as it
were, into another universe: the world as we know it. That new world will soon
force upon the child the stark reality that he or she is not one with the universe but
quite separate from it. But it is only about 2 years after birth (somewhere between
the 18th and 36th month, so developmental psychology tells us) that the young child
begins to realize (albeit subconsciously) that it is actually separate from other
people and other things. It is the time when the child becomes conscious of his or
her own identity, while at the same time becoming conscious of the outside world.
Individuality is created – not only with its positive potential for self-realization
(also called individuation) but also with its negative aspects of isolation, alienation,
and anxiety. We’re stranded!
The German psychologist Norbert Bischof (1998) has analyzed this experience
of the young child and concluded that this transition (of becoming aware of the self
and the world) constitutes a collective human experience that forms the basis for
most of the world’s cosmogony myths. He gives numerous examples showing how
creation myths almost invariably have two phases: The first phase is represented by
a primordial ocean, an undefined chaos, a murky mist, an impenetrable darkness,
an amorphous mass, a circular form, an egg, sometimes a serpent, or a sea
monster. This undivided oneness, so Bischof, represents the early phase when the
child is still in a state of symbiotic fusion, still experiencing an oceanic feeling of
oneness, of still being united with the world about him (or her). The child is merged
with infinity, amalgamated with everything and nothingness (Bischof 1998,
p. 157ff).
Then there is the second phase seen in cosmogony myths, when that amorphous,
oceanic whole is disrupted or cut asunder through a sprout, a rope, a ladder, a tree,
a mountain, an island, a phallus, a man, a woman, or a god – or sometimes it simply
breaks apart, giving way to a human being or to a human couple. This phase,
according to Bischof, represents the experience of the child, about 2 or 2½ years

old, when the child subconsciously or consciously awakens to the realization that it
is an individual all of its own, separate from Mum, Dad, and the rest of the world
(Bischof 1998, p. 191ff).
To give an example, according to one Indian creation myth, there was
a primordial ocean upon which floated a golden egg. One day, the egg breaks
apart and from it emerges Purusha, the first man, the eternal Lord of the universe.
While Purusha had still slumbered inside the egg, he had been free from anxiety, but
now, as he is looking at the vastness of the sea, he feels very lonely and
anxious. To no longer feel that lonesomeness, he divides himself up into a male
half and a female half, the latter being named Viraj. Purusha and Viraj unite
in love, from which springs the rest of humanity as well as the animal world
(Bischof 1998, p. 217).
Such cosmogony myths (which can be found around the world in all cultures and
religions) encapsulate man’s primordial experience of the original symbiotic
union with an amorphous whole that is subsequently cut asunder so that man is
thrown into existence along with the rest of the world. It is the constitutive
experience for the human dilemma of alienation and isolation. The sexual
union of which the above myth speaks may partly compensate for the loss of that
original oceanic feeling, but the yearning for the former oneness and wholeness will
linger on. Incidentally, one can find similar cosmogony patterns in the Babylonian
Enuma Elish as well as in the two Biblical creation accounts of Genesis 1 and 2
(see Bischof). The point is that every human being, while painfully aware of
having lost the original primordial oneness with the whole, will always long to
regain that oneness. So in this sense, the spiritual journey is from man’s identity
with the whole to a lonely self and back again to the whole to which the self is
connected.
A spiritual person or youth, then, may be considered as one who, conscious of
his or her own alienation, anxiety, isolation, and vanished oneness, has begun to
walk on a path leading up to a newly regained consciousness about being connected
to others, to the world, even to the whole universe, or, theologically speaking, to
God, who is all in all (1Cor 15:28). It is the path of self-transcendence, of looking
inside oneself in order to look beyond oneself. If it is true, as Norbert Bischof
suggested, that all human beings start out with the experience of oneness, then each
of us will have a subconscious residual memory of that oneness which we all wish
to regain in some way or another.
The experience of self-transcendence could be understood, then, either (a) as an
occurrence through which a person encounters what is said to be the Sacred, the
Transcendent, the Holy, the whole, or the universe or, less dramatic, (b) as an
incident through which a person experiences a sense of empathetic connectedness,
of belonging, and of being one with others, with nature, with the world, or with God.
To sum up, Benson et al.’s definition cited above (about spiritual development
being a process of acquiring the capacity for self-transcendence) may be considered
an appropriate definition that encapsulates the very core of spirituality and spiritual
development.
1190 K. Bangert
However, the statement is also somewhat limited in that it defines only the core
of spirituality, not its constituent parts or its multifaceted expressions. There are
a number of aspects to spirituality which the core definition does not explicitly
capture. Spirituality is a “multidimensional domain” (Roehlkepartain et al. 2006b,
p. 9), and in order to make spirituality work for the well-being of children, we need
to be more specific, more explicit, more concrete. We could ask: What are the
prerequisites or fundamentals that make self-transcendence possible?
40.3.3 Toward a Comprehensive Definition
If self-transcendence is at the core of spirituality, what is the periphery? Or better,

what are the layers through which one will have to dig in order to get to the core?
Spirituality may be seen as an overarching concept that encompasses the constitu-
ents needed to become a spiritual, self-transcendent person. It is giving flesh to the
bones, when we ask for the ingredients of spirituality. While the whole is more than
the sum of its parts, the whole would fall apart without the parts.
There is another reason for identifying the constituents of spirituality. Since our
fundamental concern is children’s well-being, we must relate spirituality and
spiritual experience to children’s well-being and to their everyday environment.
Spirituality must work for well-being. If it doesn’t, why bother with it?
Is there any evidence that spirituality contributes to child well-being and chil-
dren thriving? Too little, I think. There is some evidence to suggest that being part
of a religious group contributes to well-being, such as health, for instance (King and
Benson 2006). Most of the studies that looked at religiousness and its impact on
well-being did not differentiate between religiousness and spirituality. Only
Dowling et al. found that spirituality and religiousness can both be associated
with thriving (Dowling et al. 2004). Those findings were later confirmed by the
Search Institute (King and Benson 2006, p. 389). That study came to the conclusion
“that spirituality may have an influence on youth thriving beyond that of religion”
(ibid.). But on the whole, the evidence of spirituality enhancing children’s
well-being is too scant as yet. And part of the problem seems to have been that
there was no consensus of what spirituality was in the first place. How can we hope
to document the impact of spirituality on well-being if spirituality is as yet fuzzy
and ill-defined?
Hence, we will need to break the core definition down into specific and concrete
components that can be identified, observed, taught, learnt, and maybe even
measured. “Unambiguous measures are essential” (Gorsuch and Walker 2006,
p. 93). It is also worth noting that the “vast majority of researchers in the field
agree that spirituality has multiple domains” (Roehlkepartain et al. 2006b, p. 9).
The challenge would be to identify such domains and make them work toward
children’s well-being. Gorsuch and Walker have suggested the following measure-
ment domains: belief, motivation, behavior, experience, and relationships among
the domains (Gorsuch and Walker 2006, p. 93f). “Being unambiguous begins with
identifying the domains of measurement and then proceeds by using high-quality

measurement methods” (ibid., p. 93).
In order to come up with a comprehensive definition of spirituality that involves
measureable domains, this author perused the spirituality literature (such as Hay
and Nye 1998/2006; Roehlkepartain et al. 2006a; Allen 2008), wrote down a great
number of “ingredients” that seem to emerge from numerous studies, discussed
these with a number of child well-being experts, and summarized these components
to form the following six domains which are suggested as being able to serve as
stepping stones to children’s spiritual well-being: (1) congregational grounding or
embedment, (2) relationship with others (family, friends, peers, and neighbors),
(3) relationship with oneself, (4) relationship with a transcendent reality, (5) values
and convictions, (6) and a sense of responsibility. I will now discuss these six
domains in more detail:
Congregational grounding is taken to indicate the extent to which a child is
rooted or embedded in a spiritual community. For want of a better term, congre-
gational is used here to designate a communal body that shares fellowship and
spiritual values (Roehlkepartain and Patel 2006c, p. 325). Although the term is
usually referring to Christian church fellowships, it is applied here in a generic
sense and may refer to any type of spiritual or quasi-religious community, as
“spiritual development can occur outside traditional religious contexts” (Donnelly
et al. 2006, p. 240). By a quasi-religious community, I mean a communal fellowship
that may cater to certain spiritual values, responsibilities, relationships, and even
rituals and symbols, without necessarily being religious. It is within such contexts
that children’s natural spirituality is nurtured and developed, in order to mature.
Children may lose their spirituality unless they are encouraged by a well-meaning,
warm social environment. They develop and nurture their spirituality not just by
themselves but through interaction with others. They need a sense of belonging and
togetherness, in order for their spirituality to flourish and to prosper. If children are
not part of such a spiritual group, they will not only lack the spiritual foundation to
develop their own spirituality, but they will also miss a sense of being part of
a larger whole – which in our view lies at the base of any spiritual experience. One
cannot measure the genuineness of a spiritual or religious experience, but one
should be able to measure congregational embedment or grounding. Children
embedded into a spiritual community are likely to thrive and flourish. At least in
the United States, there is evidence that youth “who live in high-poverty areas are
more likely to stay on track academically if they are also high in church attendance”
(Boyatzis 2008, p. 49). There is also evidence “that higher rates of church atten-
dance correlate with lower rates of drug and alcohol use among adolescents”
(Gorsuch and Walker 2006, p. 92). While spirituality can be experienced outside
institutional religion, congregational fellowship can serve to mediate a personal
spirituality that helps individuals to flourish.
The quality of a child’s relationship with others seems to be a major key to his or
her well-being, and the literature on spirituality and well-being emphasizes the
importance of relationships for a child’s spirituality and well-being. A child does
1192 K. Bangert
not live by himself and will not thrive by herself, but only through relationships.
Hence, the quality of a child’s relationship with parents, friends, peers, relatives,
acquaintances, and neighbors can be a major source of well-being or sadness. Of
all relationships, the bonds to a child’s parents are, in general, of utmost importance
to the child’s well-being, as is documented, for instance, in the study “With Their
Own Voices.” Perhaps, being spiritual simply means being human. But being
human has to do with relationships. It may mean finding the right balance between
catering to one’s own individuality and autonomy while at the same time respecting
others and relating to others for each other’s mutual benefit. “Persons are not
independent, autonomous entities but are instead fundamentally interdependent
with one another” (Markus and Kitayama 1998, p. 69). Loving relationships
also have a bearing on self-determination. The quality of relationships and the
capacity for autonomy are interdependent to each other. “Children with parents who
are nurturing and warm, autonomy supportive, and involved in their child’s life
are more autonomously self-regulated, are more competent, and have higher
grades in school than children with controlling parents” (Kneezel and Emmons
2006, p. 267).
The relationship with oneself is crucial for a child’s spirituality and well-being.
If spirituality is essentially the capacity for self-transcendence, then it’s of vital
importance how a child relates to him- or herself. To be spiritual is to look inside
oneself – in order to look beyond oneself. How do I see myself? How do I value
myself? How do I see myself in relation to others? What is my place in the world?
With age, a young person may also ask: Do I make myself dependent on the way
others see me or do I have a self-assurance all my own? How do I deal with my own
feelings of joy and exuberance, but also of shame, anxiety, guilt, hurt, and rejec-
tion? How do I cope with the difficulties and vicissitudes of life? The ability to cope
with one’s own feelings and desires may very well be the most important factor to
a child’s well-being. Beyond that, a child’s view of his or her future is also an
important spiritual ingredient: Who am I? Who do I want to be? What does the
future hold for me? Being spiritual could mean to be conscious of one’s own
(God-given) identity even though a person may change over time. Robert Coles
once asked fifth graders to jot down “who you are, what about you matters most and
what makes you the person you are.” One girl spontaneously wrote: “I’m the one at
home who can make our Gramps laugh.” But then she had second thoughts, gave it
another try, and handed her paper to Coles who read: “I’m like I am now, but I could
change when I grow up. You never know who you’ll be until you get to that age
when you’re all grown. But God must know all the time” (Coles 1990, p. 309).
Spirituality has to do with confronting yourself, becoming your very self, and
staying true to yourself.
A child’s relationship with a transcendent reality is another ingredient of
spiritual well-being. This relationship entails an awareness of being part of
a whole, being one with the universe, or being one with God, if you will, rather
than viewing oneself as being separated and isolated from everything and every-
body. For the sake of an intercultural and interreligious spirituality, we must not
confine that transcendent reality here to a personal God, but widen it to include such
ideas as a universal consciousness, a higher self, or simply an awareness of the
whole of which I am conscious to be a part. Learning to be part of a universal whole,
or being in touch with the transcendent reality, does not require us to lose touch with
our individual identity; on the contrary, the awareness of our own identity is
a prerequisite for being able to recognize ourselves as being part of the whole.
It has been shown that the perception of individuality and identity is a sine qua non
for feeling any kind of empathy (empathy being the capability of identifying myself
with someone other than myself). Only those children were able to be empathetic
toward others who were already aware of their own identity (Bischof 1998). Being
true to yourself while at the same time being aware of the whole is what constitutes
the core of spirituality (self-transcendence).
Excursion note: What we here call transcendent reality can be understood not so much as
another worldliness but rather in terms of the spiritual or nonmaterial dimensions of our
world (the Transcendent being also the immanent). A word must also be said here about
those who feel that spiritual development is of necessity connected with faith in a personal/
theistic divinity. Should children be taught to believe in a personal God? My answer is
twofold: For one, there are indications that children are natural theists anyway (Kelemen
2004) and, hence, need not be taught to believe in God; they already do – unless explicitly
taught not to. For another, children’s concepts of God certainly change over time, and we
must allow for those changes. Goldman distinguishes between intuitive, concrete, and
abstract religious thinking, which can be demonstrated to coincide with certain ages or
stages in children’s development (Goldman 1964, p. 51ff). A young child still has a very
physical, anthropomorphic understanding of God (an old, bearded man with Palestinian
clothes). A late junior/preadolescent abandons crude anthropomorphic thinking in favor of
a supernatural or superhuman understanding of God, and yet for God to be present, he must
still be present in person. For an adolescent child (the age of 13 marking a “watershed”),
God is conceived more in terms of symbolic, abstract, and spiritualized ideas, unseen and
unseeable (Goldman 1964, p. 220–246). The challenge of spiritual development and
education is to allow the child to grow in its understanding of the Transcendent from
a physical/anthropomorphic to a nonmaterial/spiritual concept of the divine. Children must
be allowed to develop their own understanding of divinity and transcendence and not be
coerced into believing dogmatic tenets about God.
Convictions and values should also be considered of key importance to a child’s

spiritual well-being. Convictions have to do with what we believe about ourselves
and the world, about the meaning and purpose of life, etc. Convictions influence
our behavior, attitudes, and priorities. Values are more basic; they constitute the
foundation on which these beliefs and convictions are based. Values are virtues:
They have to do with cultivating integrity, compassion, forgiveness, empathy,
altruism, kindness, etc. Values help us in our decision-making and are especially
crucial in deciding moral issues. People faced with moral dilemmas report that
their reliance on spiritual or religious values helped them in their decision-making
(Walker and Reimer 2006, p. 226). A child conscious of his or her values and
convictions will be better off than a child that is always unsure of everything or
does not have an opinion or conviction either way. Beliefs and values constitute
the foundation on which a child is grounded and hence make up an important
1194 K. Bangert
part of a child’s well-being. Values and convictions are the guideposts or

handrails of life. A child with values will know where to tread and where not to
tread – not because it is forbidden to do so but because the child has internalized
these values. However, it is probably not enough to have internalized values but to
also develop what may be called a value consciousness, i.e., an awareness of the
relevance and importance of values for coping with the vicissitudes of life. Being
value conscious means being spiritual and will contribute to a child’s spiritual
well-being.
Finally, a sense of responsibility will also be part and parcel of a child’s
spirituality. This sense of responsibility has to do with a person’s commitment
directed toward the well-being of family, friends, neighbors, the community, the
nation, and even the world at large. While spirituality certainly has to do with
personal growth, it also has to do with civil engagement. According to Donnelly
et al., there may be two pathways leading from spirituality to an engagement for
civil development: (1) for one, spirituality leads to developing virtues such as
charity and concern for others; (2) for another, spirituality coincides with partici-
pating in a spiritual or religious congregation that provides an environment for
developing social capital and a common concern for community service and civil
engagement (Donnelly et al. 2006). While there is some evidence for the first
pathway leading to civil engagement, there is greater evidence for the second.
Numerous studies have demonstrated a positive relationship between religion and
community service. One reason is because children’s and adolescents’ congrega-
tional participation “can lead to increased and deeper relationships with peers and
adults, and these relationships can become avenues for recruitment into service”
(Donnelly et al. 2006, p. 242). Also, faith communities generally promote values
and virtues indispensible for civic engagement, and they often deliberate over
issues of public concern and even call for voluntary service. On the other hand,
there can also be a reverse effect in that civil engagement can lead to an increased
concern for others, and this concern for others “in turn can lead one to higher levels
of spirituality” (Donnelly et al. 2006, p. 241). Hence, “participating in community
service may influence spiritual development” (Donnelly et al. 2006, p. 249). So the
relationship between spirituality and civic engagement appears to be bidirectional.
However, a note of caution may be in order: While spirituality can lead to civil
engagement, it can also lead to escapism (Weltflucht), if an overemphasis is placed
on the purity of the soul, on self-perfection, even asceticism. Then this may
lead away from civil engagement. But if spirituality is to be understood as the
“capacity for self-transcendence,” then it must be a journey not only to the self but
beyond the self.
I have just elaborated on the six domains which I suggest are the ingredients of
spirituality and will be needed in order to experience spiritual well-being. It is
an attempt to elucidate on what is otherwise described as “the capacity for self-
transcendence” or “relational consciousness.” Or, to use yet another term, spiritual
well-being has to do with the ability to connect. That’s why it is useful to once again
emphasize the holistic nature of spirituality.
40.3.4 Spirituality’s Holistic Nature
In discussing the core definition of spirituality, we suggested that, based on

the primeval experience of children’s oneness with the whole, children have an
inner sense of connectedness. This would explain why children may be said to
have a natural propensity to spirituality. Their past experience of being one with
the uterus, one with their mother, and one with the universe as they know it is
still very much present in their subconscious mind. They want to continue to
feel connected; they long for union, for security, for coziness. But they also need
to discover themselves and their identity and probe their self-sufficiency, but
in such a way as to remain connected. Children will test how far they can go
on their own but need reassurance of being able to return to the nest when
they feel like it.
Children have a sense of interconnectedness. Their individuality is not separated
from the world around them. In that sense, children have always anticipated what
modern science and philosophy have only lately discovered: the interconnectivity
of everything. According to James Jeans, physicist and mathematician, the universe
is not an agglomeration of particles but an organism whose interconnectedness is so
intricate that no part of it can be clearly delineated from the whole. “Individuality is
replaced by community” (Jeans 1942, p. 204). This notion was reflected in the
process philosophy of Alfred North Whitehead who assumed the unity of nature
and the unity of being and who denied any independent existence:
“The misconception which has haunted the philosophical literature throughout
the centuries is the notion of ‘independent existence’. There is no such mode of
existence; every entity is only to be understood in terms of the way in which it is
interwoven with the rest of the universe” (Whitehead 1947/1968, p. 91). According
to L. B. Murphy, “the child shares with other organisms a biological tendency to
achieve wholeness” (Murphy 1987, p. 101). Spirituality, then, implies a sense of
being connected to the whole.
Spirituality should not be seen as just one aspect of human life. To be sure, we
can distinguish human development according to its physical, mental, educational,
social, or other dimensions and then add the spiritual dimension as though it were
an additional component on top of the others; an aspect on which we need to
focus at least occasionally. But instead, spirituality ought to be seen as an
all-encompassing, overarching concept having a bearing on all aspects of human
life. According to Roehlkepartain et al., spirituality is a “complex, multidimensional
phenomenon” (p. 9). Spirituality is holistic in nature. It touches upon everything that
makes up a human being or a child’s life. It is multifaceted and has the potential of
influencing, reshaping, and even completely overturning one’s whole life. Spirituality
can change direction, shift priorities, set new goals in life, and help refocus one’s
perspective on life. It is a “life-shaping force” (ibid., p. 10).
It is an assumption not only of this author that spirituality will positively
contribute to a person’s well-being. If this is true and there is evidence that this is
indeed the case (see Lerner et al. 2006, and Crawford et al. 2006), then it follows
1196 K. Bangert
that every effort should be made to preserve, develop, and nurture children’s
spirituality from early on. While humans are still capable of some drastic changes
later in life, the human mind will never enjoy the kind of plasticity found in young
children. Hence, the earlier a child learns the ingredients of what constitutes
a spiritual life, the more it will benefit from its positive outcomes. If children
learn early on how to connect, entertain good relationships, feel part of a greater
group, be conscious of values and beliefs, learn a sense of responsibility, and are
capable of transcending themselves to feel part of a greater whole, then they will
contribute positively to self, family, and community.
We will now turn to the crucial question of how spirituality can actually
contribute to children’s well-being.
40.4 How Can Spiritual Well-Being Be Achieved – and

Measured?
This handbook is about child well-being. The specific purpose of this article is to
ask what spirituality is and in what way it can contribute to child well-being. In
order for us to reflect on spiritual well-being, we need to further define some
essential terms here.
40.4.1 Further Definitions
So far, the reader had to cope with concepts like spirituality and well-being,
spiritual well-being, spiritual development, and spiritual education. While they
are all related to each other, we must also distinguish them from another and use
correct language to describe them. Hence, for the sake of clarification, it is
worthwhile to define these concepts.
Following Benson et al.’s suggestion, we are defining spirituality here as the
capacity for self-transcendence (in which the self is embedded in something greater
than the self . . .) or better still – since nobody can be said to actually have achieved
that capacity – as the disposition for self-transcendence. The capacity for self-
transcendence is not something which, once attained, will continue to be at an
individual’s disposal. Rather, it is something a person will have to continue to strive
for. It is something one can lose sight of. It will always remain something to be
attained, to be acquired. It may be more of an attitude and aptitude rather than an
acquired and secured capacity. Hence, the inclusion of spirituality into the concept
of well-being can only be a development process. That’s why Benson et al. pre-
ferred to speak of spiritual development as being “the process of growing the
intrinsic capacity for self-transcendence . . .” (Benson et al. 2003).
Thinking of spirituality as a process makes it virtually impossible to speak of
spiritual maturity. While adulthood and general maturity may be seen as the objective
of a child’s development process, it appears inept to speak of spiritual maturity.
It would also be inappropriate to associate spiritual immaturity with children and link
spiritual maturity with adults. There may be adults with only a rudimentary spiritu-
ality, and there are children displaying an astounding spirituality even at a tender age.
One is reminded of Jesus saying: “Unless you change and become like little children,
you will never enter the kingdom of heaven” (Math. 18:3).
It is reported that some cultures traditionally attribute a high spirituality to children.
In fact, the younger they are, the more spiritual they are said to be, with newborns being
considered the most spiritual of all living humans (Gottlieb 2006, p. 151). Becoming an
adult may not always be conducive to being spiritual. If there is such a thing as spiritual
maturity, it may be that we are born with it and must learn to preserve and nurture it.
Still, Hay et al. have given a definition of mature spirituality (or rather, of its effects)
that is worth noting and that may also constitute spiritual well-being:
A mature spirituality translates into inner peace and harmony, into the certainty of having
made the right basic choices, into the ability to dedicate one’s thoughts, feelings, and efforts
in a balanced, “stress-free” way to both devotion to the sacred and the execution of one’s
daily chores, into a sharing of joyful giving and receiving in relation to one’s human and
physical environment (Hay et al. 2006, p. 52).
While spiritual maturity may be considered an objective to be attained, we must

nevertheless recognize that spirituality is always in progress.
Adults may help children to progress spiritually. If they do, it becomes an
educative process. Spiritual education would be understood as a mediatory process
by which children are learning to acquire knowledge and skills that will help them
to develop their intrinsic capacity for self-transcendence. How do children or
adolescents acquire this capacity? By learning the various ingredients that
constitute spirituality: learning how to relate to one’s own self, to others, and
to a transcendent reality and learning to become conscious of values and
convictions and to take responsibility for self, family, community, and the world.
It is thought that this capacity for self-transcendence contributes to a child’s
well-being. But – what is well-being? And what is spiritual well-being?
40.4.2 What Is Spiritual Well-Being?
In general terms, well-being could be described as the fulfillment or actualization of

a person’s unique potentials. In a recent paper on children’s well-being designed to
introduce the concept of child well-being to European governments and societies,
well-being is defined as “realizing one’s unique potential through physical,
emotional, mental and spiritual development . . . in relation to self, others and the
environment” (EIESP 2012, p. 5). Well-being, too, is a holistic concept. It is an all-
encompassing notion.
Well-being has both an objective and subjective dimension to it, as was already
indicated above. Children’s well-being can be understood in terms of objective
criteria that can be measured through certain objective indicators representing
certain domains such as good nutrition, good health, and quality education, but it
must also be understood in terms of a child’s subjective feeling of well-being.
1198 K. Bangert
Subjective well-being has recently given rise to a number of studies in which

children are questioned on their perception of themselves. For children to really
flourish, they themselves must feel good about who they are, what they can, who
they will be, etc.
On the basis of the foregoing, we can define spiritual well-being as the positive
effects spirituality will exert toward the realization of a person’s (or a child’s)
unique potential. These positive effects can be manifold, as spirituality is holistic in
nature. They can have an effect on an individual’s health and physical well-being,
on the state of mind, on his or her attitude to acquire knowledge and skills, on how
to entertain good relationships and to take responsibility for them, and on how to
cope with the vagaries of life. It is assumed that paying due attention to the spiritual
dimension will be a key factor in realizing one’s unique potential.
Having defined these auxiliary terms, we must now ask: How can spiritual
well-being be acquired and achieved?
40.4.3 Achieving Spiritual Well-Being
Spirituality, according to Daniel Helminiak, is not only a concern for the self and
for the Transcendent but also a lived reality. Spirituality is a way of life (Helminiak
1996, p. 34). Spirituality ought to translate the sense of connectedness into every-
day life. Spirituality must work for well-being. Spirituality, as a lived reality, should
have the very practical effect of making children a bit more invulnerable to the pain
and disappointments that life may put in their way. In this context, a quote from
Robert Louis Stevenson is often used as an analogy: “Life is not a matter of holding
good cards but of playing a poor hand well.” Pain and suffering can have either
a debilitating or a steeling effect. As Lois Barclay Murphy writes: “There are ups
and downs, downs and ups, and the growing child begins to feel that he can get out
of the downs and help to make his life good” (Murphy 1987, p. 104). Spirituality
may give children the paraphernalia to thrive and to make them more resilient.
It may help children to want to be resilient. The spiritual child has an optimistic
bias. It is oriented toward the future, expecting the best.
On the basis of the comprehensive definition for spirituality advanced above,
any effort or program designed to improve the spiritual well-being of children
should aim at achieving the following:
– Ensure children are firmly grounded in a spiritual community that offers
(1) guidance, meaning, stories, and histories; (2) reflection, contemplation, and
meditation; (3) structure and rituals; and (4) social embedment and communal
bonds – without in any way coercing children or putting undue pressure on them.
– Ensure children have a close and warm relationship with parents, siblings,
relatives, friends, school peers, and neighbors and learn how to nurture these
relationships by giving and taking, by learning to respect their own needs and
others’ needs, and also by asking questions such as: What do I gain from this
relationship? What are its challenges? And what can I learn from it?
– Ensure children take time to reflect on themselves: on their needs, on their

feelings, on the way to give expression to them, on how to fulfill their needs
or cope with unfulfilled needs, on being aware of their great potential and talent,
on who they are or want to be, and on the visions they may have for their future.
– Ensure children learn to see themselves not only as precious, unique, and
irreplaceable individuals but also as part of a greater universal whole that
comprises many things at once: the family and community, the ethnic group
and nationhood, mankind and the world community but also flora and fauna, the
whole universe, the spiritual realm, and an invisible transcendent reality (that in
a theistic environment is usually referred to as God).
– Ensure children acquire convictions and values about the meaning and purpose
of life and on what to expect from life; on culture and society; on religious
beliefs, religious diversity, and religious tolerance; on how to cope with
society’s economic, ecological, and social needs; on culturally accepted behav-
ior, virtues, human rights, and children’s rights; on the importance of order, law,
and legislation; on how to cope with conflict, how to become peacemakers, and
how to avoid crime and war; and on how to set priorities, formulate objectives,
and achieve aims.
– Ensure children develop a sense of responsibility not only for taking part in
household chores but also by contributing to the well-being of their family and
community; children should learn to look after themselves, their home, and their
neighborhood; know how to relate to strangers and foreigners and care for plants
and animals and their whole environment; and be taught that one does not live
just for oneself and one’s loved ones but also to make the world a better place for
all to live in.
If this sounds like an ambitious and idealistic program for life-long learning,
then so be it. But the question is: How can all this be acquired and achieved? It
seems that the family would be the appropriate place to impart such skills. But
parents and families may not always be in the position to mediate these insights.
What, then, can the community, the society do to facilitate this? Certainly, one
would need to develop a number of avenues and methodologies that would lend
themselves to convey these spiritual ideas, skills, and experiences.
In a recent article on values, the German theologian Matthias Kroeger suggested
that the impartation of values and spiritual insights needs certain venues or places
conducive not only for an intellectual acquisition of values but also for their
emotional and spiritual appropriation and internalization (Kroeger 2011). Such
places (and persons!) through which values are mediated are necessary for several
reasons: the obvious multiplicity of values existing in a modern society, the
enormous influence of the modern media which crowd out traditional values, and
the inalienable right of exercising the freedom to choose one’s own values.
According to Kroeger, people need structures and places where values can slowly
be acquired and internalized until they are firmly grounded in a person’s soul and
subconscious. Values cannot be dictated; they must be mediated through an atmo-
sphere of informal learning, assisted by music, art, poetry, and rituals. Churches and
1200 K. Bangert
religious places of learning and worship have been the traditional venues for
acquiring values and worldviews. But in modern societies, these venues no longer
hold the attraction for young people and have been crowded out by a secularism that
often comes with an arbitrariness and libertinism regarding the principles guiding
one’s life. There is no dearth of good values in this day and age, but only a lack of
places to acquire them.
In light of religions and churches gradually losing their influence on children
and youth, alternative (or, if you like, additional) venues and methods may be
envisaged through which children and young people may acquire spiritual
skills and spiritual well-being. I myself envision what one might call “intercon-
fessional youth clubs” (ICYC) designed to help young people nurture and
develop their spirituality. The objective of such clubs would be to convey to children
and young people the essentials of life so as to attain physical, mental, social, and
spiritual well-being, and children could acquire many of the aspirations enlisted
above. One of the principles of these clubs would be to appoint a mentor for each
child who in turn would, in due course, learn to become a mentor to another,
following an agenda or curriculum of ideas to be imparted. Such clubs could go
a long way toward complementing efforts by families, schools, and churches to
provide children and young people with the knowledge, values, and spiritual guide-
posts to become or, better, remain, spiritual human beings.
40.4.4 Measuring Spiritual Well-Being
There may be some who are convinced that spirituality or spiritual well-being
cannot and should not be measured. How can one measure, so they think, the extent
or intensity to which a person is spiritual? Or how can one assess the quality of that
person’s spirituality? What is quality in this regard anyway? These questions are
difficult or near impossible to answer. Furthermore, if spirituality constitutes, at its
core, an experience of self-transcendence, then the quality and meaning of such an
experience will always remain subject to the subjective perception of the individual
having that experience. No outsider could judge the significance, meaning, or
quality of such an experience.
However, I have suggested above a more comprehensive definition of spiritual-
ity and, hence, of spiritual well-being that would allow for certain parameters or
indicators to be developed and which, in my view, could also be measured. By
formulating such indicators, one ought to be able to design a number of questions
that children could be asked in order to measure their subjective spiritual well-being
in a survey. It is assumed that only by measuring spiritual well-being on the basis of
well-defined indicators will we be able to actually document the positive effects of
spirituality on a child’s well-being.
The international development and relief agency World Vision has developed
a compendium of outcome indicators to measure the impact of their development
work with children and their communities. Apart from indicators for good nutrition,
health, education, protection, etc., the agency also developed outcome indicators
for spiritual well-being. They are subsumed under the following outcomes, all of
which are subjective in nature (Einloth 2010, pp. 118–19): (1) children become
aware of and experience (God’s) love; (2) children enjoy positive relationships with
peers, family, and community members; (3) children value and care for others and
their environment; and (4) children have hope and vision for the future. I myself
have drawn up a set of tentative indicators based on the six domains suggested
earlier. They are:
Religious Grounding
– Children are firmly grounded or embedded in a religious community or congrega-
tion, be it Christian, Muslim, or otherwise, including quasi-religious communities.
– Children feel welcomed to take part in services offered by that community or
congregation.
– Children practice meditation, prayer, devotion, or similar reflective activities
and find comfort and meaning by engaging in them.
– Children feel that being part of such a community/congregation gives them
a sense of emotional stability and security, a sense of belonging.
– Children find being part of that community/congregation is helpful in drawing
from it meaning, fulfillment, and a sense of togetherness.
– Children enjoy being together with others when participating in communal/
congregational meetings and fellowship.
Relationship with Others

– Children enjoy a caring, fulfilling, loving relationship with their parents, con-
ducive to bringing out the best in them.
– Children have the feeling of being able to approach their parents with most of the
problems they may have.
– Children enjoy close and warm relationships with their siblings and are learning
how to solve conflicts mutually.
– Children have a few close friends with whom they can play, joke, talk about
problems, or just enjoy being together with.
– Children enjoy a friendly relationship with neighbors or other members of their
community.
– Children feel that other people in the community try to help them when they
need help.
– Children enjoy a good relationship, even friendship, with some of their school-
mates, occasionally studying together or doing things together.
– Children know how to resolve interpersonal conflicts, seek reconciliation with
conflicting parties, and be ready to forgive another person who upset them.
– Children have a nonparent adult they can trust and to whom they can talk about
things that frighten or bother them.
– Children can identify an adult role model in the community who is like what they
want to be when they grow up.
1202 K. Bangert
Relationship with Oneself

– Children see themselves as unique and precious individuals of highest value
and dignity.
– Children have dreams and visions about the future and a positive perception of
their own future.
– Children have a good idea of what they want to do when they leave school and
grow up.
– Children are able to identify their own strengths and talents.
– Children can perceive and express their own feelings, whether it be shame, guilt,
anxiety, hurt, rejection, or love and affection.
– Children can perceive and express their own needs and wants, be it hunger for
food, drink, affection, attention, physical contact, praise, guidance, space for
play, etc.
– Children believe that if they try hard, they can accomplish their goals in life.
– Children have a sound resilience to overcome difficulties, obstacles, even oppo-
sition, setbacks, and failure.
Relationship with Transcendent Reality

– Children have a sense of a spiritual realm outside of the material world before them.
– Children know that while they may not be perfect (especially in the eyes of
others), they are perfect in the eyes of God or a universal consciousness. They
are perfect in their own right.
– Children are conscious of being in communion with a transcendent reality, not
being confined to themselves but being an integral part of a universal reality,
divinity, or consciousness.
– Children are also aware of being wanted and desired not only by a Creator God
(or by a universal creative principle) but also by those into whose care they were
entrusted. They have a sense of being appreciated and loved.
– Children have a sense of love and commitment with regard to God or the
universal consciousness.
– Children realize that their identity is not just predetermined by nature or nurture
but by their inward strength and the visions they may acquire about themselves,
or, to put it differently, they are conscious of their ability to transcend them-
selves to become their own true self.
Convictions and Values

– Children know why they are here, what they can expect from life, and what life
expects from them.
– Children know the basics of their identity, their family’s and nation’s history,
and the history of the world.
– Children are aware of political systems such as dictatorship, democracy,
multiparty systems, and legal systems.
– Children know that their lives are often limited by their background, their past,
and their environment but mostly by themselves and that they can overcome
such limitations if they set their goals high and persistently strive to achieve
them even by growing beyond themselves.
– Children are conscious of the values and virtues that their families, traditions,
and religious communities stand for.
– Children are aware of the need to cultivate and consciously practice values
and virtues and to apply them wisely to the many varied situations they encounter
(by being conscious of the basic principles underpinning those values and virtues).
– Children know what is allowed and appropriate in getting what they want and
what is not appropriate.
– Children are aware of legal rights, human rights, women’s rights, and their own
(children’s) rights.
– Children are conscious of the universal priority of cultivating respect not only
for all human beings but also for the animal world and the whole environment.
Sense of Responsibility
– Children are aware of the need to take care of themselves, to ensure their own
safety and comfort, and to avoid and avert threats and dangers.
– Children are also aware of the need to contribute to the well-being of their family
as a whole and to their parents and siblings in particular.
– Children are aware that human relationships are marked by giving and taking
and by respecting each other’s needs, feelings, dignity, and rights.
– Children learn how to act responsible with regard to other human beings, the
animal world, and the ecological environment as a whole.
– Children are involved in environmental improvements of their community (such
as soil conservation, tree planting, and cleaning communal areas).
– Children actively participate in building a better future for their community, and
they can give an example of how they (could) do this.
– Children actively participate in improving the situation of vulnerable children
and/or adults in their own community.
– Children speak out or advocate on behalf of themselves and others in their
community.
– Children are conscious of being responsible not only for themselves and their
own but for the universal whole of which they are an important part.
I believe that the above outcome indicators regarding spiritual well-being reflect
not only the literature on spirituality but also children’s own perception of spiritu-
ality and well-being. These outcome indicators, tentative as they may yet be, lend
themselves to be translated into simple questions that one could ask children in
order to assess their own spiritual well-being.
40.5 Summary
Researchers and policy makers have realized in recent years that the aspect of
spirituality in connection with children’s well-being has been seriously neglected.
1204 K. Bangert
It is assumed that the process of secularization has given rise to a new interest in
spirituality. While people are increasingly distancing themselves from traditional
churches and religious traditions, they still feel the need for honoring their
spiritual dimension. Hence, spirituality has come to the fore not only as a social
phenomenon but also as a somewhat trendy topic in child research and development
research. Scholars have sensed that spirituality has been conspicuously absent
from child research; there has been a recent burgeoning interest in the topic,
and researchers have formed interest groups and convened conferences around
these issues.
There appears to be an ambiguous relationship between spirituality and religiosity.
While some see a virtual congruency of religion and spirituality, most people see
a clear distinction between the two. Religion is often perceived as having more an
external function, while spirituality is considered to have an internal and inherent
meaning. And yet, there is also a perceived overlap between religion and spirituality,
and that overlap may be termed experience – call it religious or spiritual.
Children seem to be spiritual from the start. They appear to have a natural
inclination toward spirituality, and some researchers argue that spirituality is an
expression of a genetic predisposition. So it would only be right to recognize what
has always been there, what has always been common to humans, and what
a secular society has all too often overlooked or even denied: Spirituality is an
important part of children’s lives and of children’s well-being.
While there is much talk of spirituality nowadays, few people in the past actually
had a clear understanding of what was meant by it. Research, too, has suffered from
a lack of consensus regarding a definition of spirituality. In this chapter, we have, as
a core definition, adopted Benson et al.’s definition for spiritual development as
“the process of growing the intrinsic human capacity for self-transcendence, in
which the self is embedded in something greater than the self, including the sacred.”
But we have also advanced the notion that beyond this core definition, we must
arrive at a more comprehensive, all-encompassing definition that will lend itself to
actually achieving spiritual well-being. That compound definition has to do with
relationships, acquiring convictions and values and a sense of responsibility, pref-
erably within what has been termed congregational embedment. Spirituality is not
to be seen as one dimension of human life among others, but rather as a holistic,
overarching concept influencing all aspects of human life. It is multidimensional
and can pervade everything a person can or ought to be.
Does spirituality have a positive effect on children’s well-being? There is some
evidence that it does. But because of the still existing definitional problems, that evidence
could so far not be fully substantiated. The evidence must be broadened. It requires us to
measure spiritual well-being by indicators that need to be defined on the basis of
a compound definition, and I have suggested a set of possible indicators. But the most
important question will be: How can spiritual well-being be achieved? While the
family and the religious communities would be the natural settings to impart
spirituality and ensure spiritual well-being, we today face the challenge that family and
religious traditions are in many cases no longer in the position to impart spiritual values to
children. There is a need, then, for identifying additional and innovative avenues and
venues through which spirituality can be mediated in an attractive, appealing, even
playful way.
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Islamic Education and Youth Well-Being in
Muslim Countries, with a Specific Reference 41
to Algeria
Habib Tiliouine
41.1 Introduction
The concept of “Islamic Education” has been used in the literature to cover many
different meanings: (1) Islam’s conceptions and propositions regarding a child’s
upbringing and education; (2) The entire traditional educational system which devel-
oped over time under the banner of Islam; (3) The curricular subject taught in modern
schools as an equivalent of religious socialization and moral/religious education.
In this chapter, I will discuss all these aspects but will begin by asking whether
religious education or whether a religion is at all needed in the twenty-first Century.
The answer would be affirmative if one takes into account at least the physical,
psychological, and social functions of religion. The growing recent evidence is in
its favor. In the area of health, it has generally been proved that religiously active
people are physically healthier and live longer. A strong inverse relationship with
mortality is “well documented” (Reviews: Williams and Sternthal 2007; Tiliouine
et al. 2009). This general association has been partly explained by the fact that
religious individuals have healthier smoking, eating, and drinking habits. Thus,
a religious education may contribute to the prevention of phenomena such as
excessive alcohol consumption, illegal drug addiction, and other widespread and
worrying abuses. As an illustration, The National Center on Addiction and Sub-
stance Abuse at Columbia University (CDC) published a study indicating that in
addition to being the result of 79,000 deaths in the USA alone each year, excessive
alcohol consumption cost the USA $223.5 billion in the year 2006. About three
quarters of the costs of heavy drinking were due to lost productivity, while 11 %
resulted from health care expenses, 9 % from criminal justice costs, and 8 % from
other effects such as those related to fetal alcohol syndrome and associated
H. Tiliouine
Department of Psychology and Educational Sciences, Laboratory of Educational Processes &
Social Context (Labo-PECS), University of Oran, Oran, Algeria

1210 H. Tiliouine
disorders. According to the same source, alcohol use is responsible for more than
twice as many deaths as drug use, which makes it the third leading preventable
cause of death (http://www.cdc.gov/Features/AlcoholConsumption/, accessed
31.08.2012). This study did not include other costs, such as those caused by pain
and suffering among either the excessive drinker or others who were affected by
their drinking. Finally, the researchers estimated that excessive drinking cost an
estimated $746 for every man, woman, and child in the United States (the same
Web document).
At the psychological level, research evidence indicates that individuals who
have religious beliefs report higher life satisfaction and have lower suicide rates
than those who declare themselves atheists (e.g., Donovan and Halpern 2002;
Helliwell and Putnam 2005, cited in Tiliouine et al. 2009). Ardelt (2003) found
that purpose in life, rather than extrinsic or intrinsic religious orientation, was
positively related to elders’ subjective well-being (SWB). Others have suggested
that religiosity is a protective factor against loss of SWB in that it provides an
interpretive framework to make sense of life experiences, while many other
researchers have proposed religious activity to be a generator of community-level
social capital, which would thereby enhance SWB (Tiliouine et al. 2009).
In this section I will specifically deal with Islamic education, although one must
insist that Islam has in its basic teachings many common points as other Abrahamic
religions, i.e., Christianity and Judaism. Nevertheless, Islamic education remains an
unstudied subject in spite of the fact that it concerns the lives of about 1.5 billion
people. It is believed that a “good” religious education would also help Muslims
understand the humane and peaceful message of their religion.
This chapter adopts a holistic approach in describing Islamic education and in
clarifying how its traditional system has historically been instituted. Because the
subject is wide ranging, some case studies are utilized. Throughout this text, content
analysis of many firsthand documents and a collection of theoretical information
backed by available statistical data, constituted the main techniques of analysis. The
issue of learners’ wellbeing forms an integrated part of the text.
The first part of this raises the point of how Islam construes the status of children
and their well-being and the roles generally played by families and the society in
this respect. The second part discusses how the traditional Islamic educational
system evolved over the centuries to meet the religious, social, and personal
needs in Muslim communities. The final part looks at how the postcolonial modern
educational systems of Islamic countries integrate moral/religious education in
their schools. It concludes with a synthesis and recommendations.
41.2 The Status of Children and Youth and their Education

in Islam
The religion of Islam is the acceptance of, and obedience to, the teachings of God
which He revealed to His last prophet, Muhammad. For people belonging to this
faith system, Islam is a comprehensive way of life and a universal message.
41 Islamic Education and Youth Well‐Being 1211
The holy Qur’an, the Sunnah (sayings and doings of the Prophet as reported after
his death), analogy and societal consensus are its four major sources.
At the ontologic level, Islam views man as a viceroy of God on Earth. The
Qur’an declares: “And indeed, We have honoured the Children of Adam” (Qur’an
17:70). Therefore, his life is purposeful. From this perspective, true happiness
is twofold: Happiness in earthly life and happiness after death, in the hereafter
(Tiliouine 2012). The credo remains the prophet’s popular saying: Conduct yourself
in this world as if you are here to stay forever, and yet prepare for eternity as if you
are to die tomorrow. Therefore, an ideal education in this faith system would
aim to prepare Muslims to live according to Islam’s teachings and to fulfill
these ends.
It should be stressed that, aided by a long tradition of scholarly life, Islamic
sources regulated almost all important aspects of personal conduct, as well as that of
the Muslim community. A long list of disciplines was established to cover the main
categories of Islamic sciences and later formed the core of teaching curricula,
mainly: (1) Faith (Aqidah); (2) Shariah (laws regulating social life human deeds)
which had been too subdivided into categories: rituals (Ibadat), marriage or family
laws, commercial transactions, offences, crimes and punishments (Jinayat), and
(3) Ethics (Akhlak).
Furthermore, as early as the eleventh century, Abu Hamid al-Ghazzaly (1973)
summarized the intentions of the religion through five objectives (Makassid): the
protection of faith, life, intellect, posterity, and property. The right to life of the
human being is preserved starting from forbidding all forms of abortion, except for
utmost medical reasons of the pregnant woman. The point of when the fetus
becomes a human being constituted a fundamental question in Islamic Fiqh
(law). Most jurists believe that this occurs at the end of the 4th month of pregnancy,
when the fetus is ensouled. Abortion after that stage is treated as homicide, unless
done to save the life of the mother (Kabir and az-Zubair 2007).
Similarly, Islam totally abolished the Mecca tribes’ custom of killing their young
daughters to avoid their kidnapping during wars (Ahwani 1975). So, life has been
highly invaluable. The Qur’an clearly states: “. . . whosoever killeth a human being
for other than manslaughter or corruption in the earth, it shall be as if he had killed
all mankind, and whoso saveth the life of one, it shall be as if he had saved the life of
all mankind. . .” (The Qur’an, 5: 32).
Marriage is recommended as one of the most important means to meet the
religion’s goals. The Qur’an declares: “And of His signs is this: He created for
you helpmeets from yourselves that ye might find rest in them, and He ordained
between you love and mercy. Lo! herein indeed are portents for folk who reflect”.
(30:21); with another translation (same website): “. . .He created for you mates
from among yourselves. . .” (Eng-Yusuf Ali, http://www.quranexplorer.com/
quran/). So, the marriage institution is aimed to providing its partners with rest
and tranquility as a consequence of mutual love and mercy put in their hearts.
Furthermore, all sexual relationships outside of marriage are forbidden, in order
to protect posterity. A whole set of regulations of marriage, family life and child
upbringing, were set forth. Among the important subjects of discussion in
1212 H. Tiliouine
Islamic family law are: legitimacy (legality of the marriage), custody (Hadanah),
guardianship, adoption, and the concept of Kafalah of children (e.g., Pearl and
Menski 1998; An-Naim 2002). According to Kabir and az-Zubair (2007), there
are three types of custody as applied to minors which are fixed from birth in
Islamic law: (1) general care and upbringing; (2) education, and (3) property. In
the event of divorce, the child is first awarded to the mother, the second instance
is that guardianship is divided between mother and father, and the third is the
right of the father. In comparison, Western laws usually assign custody to
the maternal parent, with the father being responsible for the costs of mainte-
nance and little else (Kabir and az-Zubair 2007). This is to say that the duties of
parents to provide for the survival needs of their children (such as food, shelter,
personal needs, proper upbringing, and education) are clearly regulated. Even
issues such as breastfeeding are given space. Breastfeeding is considered an
additional aspect of one’s genealogy. The relation of the child to its foster mother
is socially, ethically, and legally the same as that to its birth mother, but the child
may not inherit from her (Kabir and az-Zubair 2007). What some anthropologists
label “Milk kinship” is a specific characteristic of extended family relationships
in Islam (Parkes 2007). For these reasons, Muslim scholars prohibit human
sperm and milk banks.
It could be concluded that Muslim children enjoy various God-given rights. In
return, God offers rewards to those fulfilling these duties even after death. The
Prophet said: “Upon death, man’s deeds will (definitely) stop except for three deeds,
namely: a continuous charitable fund, endowment or goodwill; knowledge left for
people to benefit from; and pious righteous and God-fearing child who continu-
ously prays Allah, the Almighty, for the soul of his parents” (reported in Muslim,
http://www.islam2all.com/hadeeth/moslem/). So, the status of a pious child is
highly valued by parents and the community. The social admiration and God’s
recompense motivate Muslim parents to encourage youth to learn Islamic sciences
even through current times. The tradition insists that those who learn the Qur’an
have the privilege to save their parents and relatives in the hereafter.
To summarize, the family institution remains the backbone of Islamic
society. It fulfills the intention of the religion in giving and preserving the life of
the child and meeting its survival, upbringing, and educational needs. His rights to
be born through a legitimate union, to know fully one’s parentage, to be suckled,
and to be reared with kindness and respect are among the basic rights of a child and
duties of parents (Gatrad and Sheikh 2001). In return, family members’ rights
to respect and obedience from their children, as well as God’s salvation after
death are preserved.
41.3 Priming and Early Education in Islam
Individuals are instructed to found and preserve families, although divorce and
polygamy are permitted under very strict conditions. Early child priming
practices and induction into the Islamic way of life begin early in a child’s life.
These practices vary from one community to another, but usually start at birth with
loud reading of the Adhan (the call for the prayer) in the right ear of the newborn,
and loud reading of some verses of the Qur’an, ensuring that the name of God
would be the first thing to be heard by the newborn. Holding a party to announce the
name of the newborn and giving to charity (Akika) are part of the Sunna (the
prophet’s recommendations). Circumcision of males, for which timing differs
from one culture to another, causes a physical scar that remains for the life (Some
African societies practice on females some form of genital mutilation which is not
part of the religion in any case, but is a custom in some societies. Such practices are
proved very harmful to women and should be abandoned (Webb and Hartley
1994).) (e.g., Gatrad and Sheikh 2001). Slow induction of children into religious
practice, such as Islamic prayers, before the age of 10, and fasting are all examples
of a long socialization process and gradual introduction into the Muslim commu-
nity. Moreover, two important yearly Islamic festivities which are the sheep Aid and
the end of Ramadan Aid continue to be highly joyful opportunities for youth and
families every year. Caring for orphans and children with special needs is consid-
ered a religious duty for which the Muslim society should provide.
41.4 Formal Religious Education: The Traditional System
Historic accounts indicate that combating illiteracy and spreading knowledge was
a priority from the beginning of Islam. This is not surprising, knowing that the first
word of the Qur’an as revealed to the Prophet Muhammad was: “Read.” It is said:
“Read in the name of thy Lord Who created; He created man from a clot. Read and
thy Lord is most Honourable, Who taught to write with the pen. taught man what he
knew not” (96:1-5). This implies that learning and teaching are among the basic
duties of Muslims. One of the popular Hadiths said: Seeking Of Knowledge Is An
Obligation Upon Every Muslim, Be It A Man Or A Woman (http://www.sacred-
texts.com/isl/hadith/had06.htm accessed on 15.08.2012). In his life as Prophet,
some historic accounts revealed that he used to release educated war prisoners
with the condition of teaching his companions reading and writing (Ahwani
1975). Evidently, the teaching profession practiced with youth has been known
since the early days of Islam. The main curriculum activity was teaching young
generations the correct reciting and understanding of the Holy Book. In return,
this was considered the first step toward acquiring other sciences, which over the
years, and due to the evolving needs of the newly established multiple ethnicity
Islamic empire and its encounter with other cultures, continued to flourish
(Esposito 1998).
Historically, it is known that Islam expanded rapidly out of the Arabian
Peninsula. For instance, it reached Persia and Iraq in 633–651, Syria in 637,
Armenia in 639, Egypt in 639, North Africa in 652, Cyprus in 654, Constanti-
nople in 674–678 and again in 717–718, Hispania from 711 to 718, and Georgia
in 736, reaching Crete and Southern Italy in 827 (Esposito 1998). The encounter
with other civilizations enriched the new faith system and led to the rise of the
1214 H. Tiliouine
Golden Age of Islam in the Abbasid’s era, 749–1258 (Esposito 1998). Among the
most important achievements of this period was the assembly of the Prophet’s
Hadith, the codification of the language of the Qur’an, Arabic and the translation
of other civilizations’ important intellectual works, such as the Greek’s
philosophy.
Obviously, family structures, mosques, and religious congregations (Majalis)
annexed to them, which constituted in the beginning the central spaces for
learning different kinds of religious and scientific knowledge, could not meet
the expanding needs and the new complex society any more. Therefore, over the
centuries, a real school system was gradually taking place with many ramifica-
tions across the Islamic world. This system could generally be divided into
three stages: (a) Elementary Education (The Qur’anic School); (b) Medersa
and (c) Jami’a (Heggoy 1984). They are briefly described in the following
paragraphs.
41.4.1 The Qur’anic School
One common feature of the traditional Islamic educational system is that its
basic education comprised the teaching and learning by memory the Qur’an in
institutions called (in Arabic): Quttab, Katatib, Msid, i.e., Qur’anic school.
These schools could be found all over the Islamic world through current times.
They were particularly reserved to teaching reading and writing and learning
by memory the Qur’an by youngsters under the supervision of a teacher whose
mastery of the Book had been established. Each child learned individually at his
own pace the parts of the Holy Book. Individual progress was monitored
on a daily basis, and group sessions of reciting were held. At the end of some
given parts of the Qur’an, the student was rewarded with a short break. His or
her wood-board was colored and the student could go around to neighboring
houses to receive gifts for that achievement. This represented an
important involvement on the part of the community in education. A large part
of those gifts were shared with the teacher (Ahwani 1975). Nevertheless,
some differences were observed across the Muslim countries with relation to
curriculum activities in these schools. For instance, Ibn Khaldoun (1332–1406)
discussed some of these differences in his Muqaddimah. For example,
he reported that in Andalusia, in addition to the Qur’an, children were taught
language sciences and mathematics.
41.4.2 Medersa (Intermediate and Secondary Schools)
As mentioned earlier, the main objectives of Qur’anic schools were to teach the
Qur’an to youngsters to become hafiz (in some places as in present Algeria, called
Talib). Whereas, the institutions named: Medersas or Madrassah (literally School
in Arabic), are the equivalent of intermediate and secondary schools during modern
times (Heggoy 1984). They initiated students to become Alim. The certificate of
Alim required approximately 12 years of study (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/
Madrasah, accessed in 5 July, 2012). They prepared students for the professions
of Imams, clergymen, Islamic lawyers (Kadis), teachers, and other types of pro-
fessions according to the expressed needs of the society. A regular curriculum of
a Medersa would include the study of Arabic, interpretations (Tafsir) of the Qur’an,
Islamic law (Shariah), Prophet’s hadith, logic (mantiq), and history. However, very
little is yet known on how this system evolved and was organized throughout the
wide Islamic world. Nevertheless, it was historically established that Medersas
became a wide practice during the Abbassid era, and later during the Ottoman
Empire. The Nazimiah School became very famous and by the eleventh Century
almost every single city had its own equivalent of Nazimiah (http://en.wikipedia.
org/wiki/Madrasah, accessed in 5 July, 2012). A variety of Medersas exit nowadays
in Islamic countries and interested researchers could gain valuable information
through their careful study (Bustamam-Ahmad and Jory 2011). Many of them are
linked to different Sufi methods and traditional congregations (Zaouias). They serve
diverse functions as representatives of a large part of the civil society and as
safeguards of the tradition. In the past, they helped resist colonialism. In this
respect, Emir Abd-el-Kader (1808–1883) was a prominent figure among those
who combated the French colonial invasion for 17 years. As a warrior and
a prominent intellectual, he was the pure product of this institution and his father
was a Qur’an teacher (see Churchill 1981 for a full biography).
41.4.3 Traditional Islamic Higher Education
Many sources have indicated that some Medersas developed to deliver some
form of specialized higher education. For instance, Sir John Bagot Glubb wrote:
“By Mamun’s time medical schools were extremely active in Baghdad. The first
free public hospital was opened in Baghdad during the Caliphate of Haroon-ar-
Rashid. As the system developed, physicians and surgeons were appointed who
gave lectures to medical students and issued diplomas to those who were con-
sidered qualified to practice. The first hospital in Egypt was opened in 872 and
thereafter public hospitals sprang up all over the empire from Spain and the
Maghrib to Persia” (Quoted in Zahoor 1999). Many of these “universities” were
founded by personal initiatives, such as the Al-Qarawiyyin in Fes Morroco which
was founded in 859 by Fatima Al-Fihri who was a rich woman, and has been
considered the first university in the world. Al Azhar was established one
Century later in Cairo, Egypt (Esposito 2003). These universities delivered
diplomas in different scientific and professional disciplines according to social
needs. Their curricula were gradually enriched and their practices were diversi-
fied (Esposito 1998).
Because of their tight links with students’ well-being, two more points should be
raised here: Community engagement in education and pedagogy. First, the Muslim
community’s commitment in sustaining this educational system was evident
1216 H. Tiliouine
through ensuring the financial autonomy of these institutions. This autonomy was
reinforced by goods and resources acquired over the years through donations and
Alms. Wealthy women and men financed the construction and maintenance of the
infrastructure, such as the case of Al-Qarawiyyin University, mentioned earlier.
Moreover, they offered students lodging, food, and stipends. Teachers were also
regularly paid wages according to a merit system (Nakosteen 1978). A report to the
American Congress indicated that during the 1970s, the Medersa system was
revitalized, mainly in Iran and Pakistan, to meet the rising interest in Islamic
studies. However, this mission deviated. In the 1980s and due to boosted financial
support from the United States and its allies, these schools were used as instruments
in their fight against the Soviets, mainly in Afghanistan and Pakistan
(Blanchard 2007).
Second, educational issues were extensively discussed by Muslim scholars of
medieval era to provide theoretical backgrounds and practical guidelines
to teachers and students. Most known was the handbook of Ibn Sahnoun (about
777–855), entitled Adab el Moua’llimin, (The good manners of teachers) which
provided clear guiding principles on how to regulate school life and
classroom management, such as rewards and punishments, learning progression,
holidays, the relationship of the school with families and the community, etc
(Ibn Sahnoun’s Manual, annexed to Ahwani, 1975). Teachers are urged to be fair
to children and to encourage in-between pupils learning. Ibn Sina, known
as Avicenna (980–1037), was among many other philosophers who extensively
discussed different forms of teaching practice such as the role of
cooperative learning methods (interested readers can refer to http://www.
muslimphilosophy.com/). Another marking figure of the Islamic Theory
of Education was El-Qabissi (936–1012). In his handbook Ahwal wa Ahkam
El Mou’alimin wa El Mouta’limin, the conditions of teachers and students and
their regulations (annexed to Ahwani 1975), he recommended no gender sepa-
ration in learning, and the avoidance of physical punishment. He too discussed in
depth the related pedagogical issues. From a larger study, G€unther (2006) con-
cluded that medieval Muslim thinkers’ views could inspire modern educational
theory. Similarly, Halstead (2004) argued that those perspectives offered
a wholesome theory in the domain of education. This theory embraced all three
dimensions of education: individual development, social and moral education,
and the acquisition of knowledge.
41.5 Islamic/Moral Education in the Modern School System
The final part of this chapter is devoted to the status of Islamic education in the
official curricula of basic education in the Muslim world. Obviously the subject is
wide and cannot in any case be fully covered in such short account, but few
illustrations may suffice. In the first instance, I will describe how education
moved from the classical system where Islam was the framework in which all
education took place to a more modern education, where Islamic education became
a subject of study, one single course among diverse curricula. Modern education in
opposition to traditional education, as described earlier, means an institutionalized
school system which is usually linked to the highest spheres of the state. Its
infrastructure, organization, curricula, and certification system are standardized.
This type of education was known at varied levels in Europe first as a consequence
of the church reformist movements and later developed as a secular system. In
France, for instance, the law of separation of state and church was voted on in
Parliament in 1905 (Willaime 2007, p. 88). Consequently, the church no longer had
the monopoly on education. Adopting a “laic” education system meant that clear
lines of demarcation were drawn between a church-based education and an ordinary
education. Therefore, religious education in the latter became one of the subjects of
study, but neither the most important subject of study, nor the framework in which the
whole education took place. The movement toward modern education flourished with
the expansion of the Industrial Revolution and ended in the institutionalization of
mass education throughout the world in the twentieth century and acquired the
compulsory character for all children until a specific age (generally 16 years).
These ideals reached the Muslim world at a time when most of its countries were
weak and under foreign domination. However, in many places the confrontation
between the European educational model, or in short modern education, and the
long standing traditional educational model was very harsh and painful. One
obvious reason is that modern education was considered by locals as a consecration
tool of the colonial project (Altbach and Kelly 1984), whose principal aim for them
was to undermine their Muslim identity, a revival of the Crusade invasion. This
situation was accentuated by the secular character of modern education. The
Algerian case could clearly illustrate such a struggle for many reasons. First,
Algeria was the first country to be colonized by a European power during the
nineteenth century (1830) and was officially annexed as a French territory. It was
among the last to acquire independence, 132 years later, after a long armed war of
liberation which ended in the killing of more than one million Algerians. Second,
modern education was one of the means that the French occupiers used in order to
“domesticate” what they considered “barbaric” people (Turin 1983). Finally, the
colonial project sought from the beginning to eradicate the local education system
to facilitate its “Assimilationist” aim (Heggoy 1984; Turin 1983). However, it
should be noted that many differences could be found between the British and the
French projects and policies during the colonial era (e.g., White 1996).
There is no need to delve into details, it should however be stressed that from the
beginning, education was one of the forefront battle fields to resist colonialism. The
other two fields of resistance were the judiciary and the health care systems (Turin
1983). Les indigènes (the official name of local people in that period) massively
boycotted all three types of colonial institutions. From 1830 until 1880, French
schools completely failed to attract them, and until 1945 just a small number
accessed schools. World War I (1914–1918) witnessed the recruitment of Algerian
natives to fight beside the French soldiers, and hence created proximity in some
regions between the two populations, although the refusal of some tribes to send
their children to the French army ended in brutal confrontations (Stora 1989).
1218 H. Tiliouine
These events, in addition to other reasons, opened another form of resistance leading
to the birth of an organized Algerian political nationalism. Consequently, many
political parties saw the light (Stora 1989). On the top of their list was a call for an
adapted schooling system. Nevertheless, historic accounts proved that colonialists
were not truly willing to generalize education beyond the primary level. The reason
might have been that they needed just a few native mediators and an inexpensive
workforce (details could be found in: Heggoy 1984; Turin 1983; Saurrier 1982 and
Tiliouine 2002). The most important thing is that the French knew that traditional
education should be destroyed, but no real alternative was offered in return. One of
the organized methods consisted of cutting the financial supply to the traditional
schools by confiscating lands and goods belonging to them (Heggoy 1984; Saurrier
1982). However, the system continued to have popular support and a part of it was
modernizing under the initiatives of associations such as “L’association des Olémas
Musulmans Algériens” (Association of Reformist Ulama, founded by abd el-Hamid
Ben Badis in 1931). Its slogan was: “Islam is my religion; Arabic is my language;
Algeria is my nation” (Chiviges 2000, p. 10). In 1945, it enrolled 40,000 students,
while another 50,000 were in “Free Education” (i.e., Traditional Qur’anic schools),
compared to 300,000 in French schools (Saurier 1982; Tiliouine 2002).
For the small number of those who accessed French education beyond the
primary level, their school experience was very painful as they suffered from the
discrimination exercised on them. This cultural alienation or simply the cultural ill-
being was eloquently immortalized in the literature written in French by novelists
such as Mouloud Feraoun, Mouloud Mammeri, Mohammed Dib, and
Malek Haddad. This latter declared: “The French language is my exile” (Chiviges
2000, p. 9).
The resurgence of the armed war of liberation, launched in the first of November
1954, revived the French government promises for an educational reform and
a massive construction of schools, with the goal to calm the anger of the population.
We know that in 1954, 86 % of the Algerian school-aged population was
unschooled (Saurier 1982).
Generally, it could be concluded that three different educational organizations
co-existed during the French colonial era: a basically religious and traditional
Islamic system, a reformed but Islamic school, and a modern colonial school.
However, it may be interesting to see how the situation evolved after the mass
departure of French settlers on the eve of the independence in 1962 and the status of
religious education during this particular period.
In short, the mass departure of French settlers (Pieds-Noirs) created a big
vacuum in all institutions of the newly independent state (800,000 settlers were
evacuated to mainland France in 1962, while about 200,000 chose to remain in
Algeria. They were still 100,000 in 1965 and 50,000 by the end of the 1960s
(Chiviges 2000)). For instance, only 25 % of the French teachers remained in
their positions in 1962, while only 15 % of the teachers of that time were locals
(Tiliouine 2002). In contrast, the claim for schooling as a price of the independence
among Algerian parents soared. Unfortunately, a large part of the school infrastruc-
ture was totally destroyed by l’Organisation Armée Secrete (OAS), which also
assassinated many brilliant intellectuals and teachers, such as the novelist Mouloud
Mammeri. OAS violently opposed General De Gaulle’s (the French President)
decision to negotiate the independence of Algeria with Front de Libération
Nationale (FLN, the National Liberation Front) which led the war of liberation. It
is worth mentioning that in 1962, 792,258 students were enrolled in the schools of
independent Algeria. This number doubled 3 years later to reach 1,332,208 students
(i.e., a 59.57 % increase in 3 years). There were 19,908 new teachers recruited in 1
year (1962–1963) which increased the presence of native teachers to 46 %
(Tiliouine 2002). This exceptional situation forced the authorities to recruit people
with very low instructional levels and with no previous training to teach. Many of
these new recruits were the product of the Qur’anic schools.
Independent Algeria tried to recuperate the most salient characteristics of the
traditional system, such as Arabisation (the generalization of Arabic language) of
education, the reinforcement of the Islamic and Arabic identity of the country.
Tamazight (the language of the Berber ethnic group) was officially recognized as
the third component of the Algerian identity at a much later time by the country’s
Constitution of 1989. The French language gradually took the status of a foreign
language after long debates and conflicts between the Francophones and the
Arabophones. The First Algerian Constitution of 1976 stipulated that the first
language, including in education, should be Arabic. Similarly, education became
compulsory for all Algerian children through the age of 16 years within the
Socialist orientation of the country that time.
Algeria changed the system of governance allowing for a multi-party system
beginning in 1989. However, this democratic transition phase was marked by
another bloody struggle between armed Islamists on one hand (who were denied
winning the first round of the first pluralist parliamentary elections), and on the
other hand, the army. This bloody struggle resulted in a death toll of 200,000 lives
and billions of dollars worth of destruction between 1992 and 2002. That situation,
which for some researchers constituted the precursor of the Arab Spring (Entelis
2011), improved due to courageous steps taken by President of Abdel Aziz
Bouteflika through the Charter of National Reconciliation and Peace, approved by
referendum in September 2005. Consequently, that was followed by amnestying of
thousands of people and reinforced by the tangible improvement in the economic
situation, due principally to the increase in the prices of the Hydrocarbon sector
(natural gas and oil represent more than 90 % of the country’s exports). The country
has gradually succeeded in regaining stability and has launched highly ambitious
construction workshops and reforms in many sectors (Tiliouine and Meziane 2012),
mainly in education. The Education Act of 2008 (La loi d’orientation de l’éducation
nationale) came to regulate the education reform of 2003 (UNESCO 2010).
It should be stressed that since independence, Islamic education has been
a curricular subject and is viewed as a part of moral education of the schooled
population. The Education Act (in the second article) stipulated that education
among other things, aims to provide young generations with Islamic principles
and their spiritual, moral, cultural, and civilisational values. Article 44 of the same
Act reiterates that among the missions of Basic Education, reinforcing the student’s
1220 H. Tiliouine
Table 41.1 Primary school subjects and time allocated to them in Algeria
Grade 1 Grade 2 Grade 3 Grade 4 Grade 5
Arabic language 14 14 12 9 9
Tamazight language (optional) – – – 3 3
French language – – 3 5 5
Islamic education 1.30 1.30 1.30 1.30 1.30
Civic education 1 1 1 1 1
History/géography – – 1 1 2
Mathématics 5 5 5 5 5
Scientific and technology education 2 2 2 2 2
Music 1 1 1 1 1
Education plastic arts 1.30 1.30 1 1 1
Physical and sport education 1 1 1 1 1
Total (hours) 27 27 28.30 30.30 31.30
Source: Bousenna et al. (2009)
identity, in harmony with social traditions, spiritual, and ethical values, all consti-
tute the common cultural heritage (Article 44, www.jora.dz; the present author’s
translation).
Over the years, religious and moral education have been given different weight
in terms of school time, but it was not considered as the traditional system the
framework in which all educational activities should take place. Despite that fact,
no secular character of education has ever been recognized.
Currently, the Islamic education begins from the first school year and is
maintained until the baccalaureate (end of secondary school). The time allocated
to this subject remains steady at 90 min per week in primary school (Table 41.1) and
decreases in the middle school to 60 min per week (Table 41.2). In addition, as an
option, students can specialize in Islamic studies as starting from the secondary
school level.
Presently, formal education in Muslim societies has to some extent a similar
organization as specialized institutions which are devoted to teaching Islamic
sciences and theology. Despite a few exceptions, such as Turkey, where after its
defeat in World War I, Kamel Ataturk decided to follow the French enlighten-
ment model to abolish the Islamic Caliphate, to suppress all Islamic teaching in
Turkish schools, and to shift from Arabic script of the Turkish language to the
Latin script. He formalized secular education on March 22, 1926 and closed
madrasas (Fitzpatrick et al. 2009). Other Islamic countries never recognized
such a separation between education and religion. Most of them continue to
identify with Islam, maintain its teaching, and even variably recognize it as
a source of their jurisprudence. Regarding this latter point, “Twenty-two of 44
predominantly Muslim countries recognize some constitutional role for Islamic
law, principles, or jurisprudence. This includes 18 of the 22 countries where
Islam is the religion of the state, as well as four predominantly Muslim countries
Table 41.2 Middle School (Grade 6–9) subjects of study and weekly time allocated to them in
Algeria
Grade 6 Grade 7 Grade 8 Grade 9
Arabic language 6 5 5 5
Tamazight language (optional) 3 3 3 3
French language 5 5 5 5
English language 3 3 3 3
Mathematics 5 5 5 5
Natural and life sciences 2 2 2 2
Physics and technology 2 2 2 2
Islamic education 1 1 1 1
Civic education 1 1 1 1
History 1 1 1 1
Géography 1 1 1 1
Music 1 1 1 1
Plastic arts (education plastique) 1 1 1 1
Physical and sport education 2 2 2 2
Total (hours) 34 33 33 33
Source: Bousenna et al. (2009)
where a constitutional role for Islam is not the declared state religion” (Interna-
tional Commission on International Religious Freedom 2005, p. 9). This may
demonstrate how diverse Muslim countries are in relation to the status of religion
within the formal legal system.
Moreover, most Muslim societies adopt the spirit of modern education as
defended in the Progressive Education movement (Anthony 1979). The writings
of the well-known educationist John Dewey were translated to the local language
very early. They deeply inspired the Nahda (Awakening) Muslim intellectuals. At
the official level, the new Education Act (2OO8) of Algeria (www.jora.dz) clearly
recognized the main features of modern education, explicitly considering the
student as the center of education, and elaborating the curricula and
evaluation procedures referring to the competency-based approach of education
(Bousenna et al. 2009).
However, does all this mean that the traditional Islamic education is totally
abandoned in favor of the largely secular modern education? It is very curious to
find that the former is yet well alive and very influential, working with the
community backing in parallel to the official school system. Parents continue to
send their young children, before they are schooled, to study in Qur’anic schools.
For instance, L’ Annuaire statistique of the Algerian Ministry of Education
reports that in 2009, 93.54 %, i.e., 21,584 children younger than 4 years accessed
the Qur’anic schools for some time, and that they are mostly males (i.e., 76.39 %)
(Bousenna, et al 2009, p. 10). Even schooled students of diverse ages continue to
attend these schools during their free time and during the holidays. In Algeria,
most of these Qur’anic schools are financed and regulated by the Ministry of
1222 H. Tiliouine
Religious Affairs (http://www.marw.dz). This is reinforced by the existence of

many Islamic congregations (Zaouias) which enjoy much popularity as in many
other countries in the Islamic world. In Algeria, Zaouias are encouraged and
officially given financial support as a way to face the extremist forms of
political Islam. It should be stressed that Zaouias existed long before modern
times. Thirty nine variants of these institutions are cited in http://fr.wikipedia.org/
wiki/Zaou%C3%AFa_(%C3%A9difice_religieux)#.C2.A0Alg.C3.A9rie. They
safeguarded the religion, reinforced the Islamic identity, but did not preach for
violence, unless it was for self defense. Present time terrorism is a new phenom-
enon. Its ultimate goal is achieving political supremacy and is fueled by the Israeli
occupation of Palestine and some other international tensions. However, much
research is needed in order to clarify the relationship between religiosity and
extremism and the role of education in this phenomenon. My guess is
that Islam is a religion rich with moral teachings as other religions of the
world, but has been misused by extremists in order to hide their real political
intentions. A genuine Islamic education would help prevent these extremist forms
of conduct.
It should be stressed that the early Islamic educational system enabled
Muslims to set the foundations of an authentic civilization, which provided the
world with remarkable scientific discoveries, extraordinary artistic and archi-
tectural works, and a marvelous literature (e.g., Esposito 1998, 2003). But with
time, education fell into classicism, discouraged creativity, and accentuated
imitation (taklid). This attitude may well be alive in modern schools in the
Muslim world and may well survive in many present teachers’ pedagogical
methods. The traditional schooling system gives priority to rote learning, mem-
orization, and discipline in learning. In opposition, modern education, at least as
construed by its precursors in the progressive movement insists on the cultiva-
tion of the intellect, students’ personal needs and preferences, and values
intrinsic motivation. They are the center of the learning process around
which all educational appliances revolve. These are some of the basic disagree-
ments between two attitudes which are not easy to reconcile at first glance.
Evidently this is a huge question which should be thoroughly addressed in
future research. However, in cases such as Algeria, many teachers are the pure
product of the traditional system and their practice may be to a great extent
influenced by their background training. They may base students’ learning on
memorization of texts, put a lot of constraints on pupils’ intellectual and
physical freedom, discourage cooperative learning and may use physical
punishment to correct undesired classroom behaviors. Such attitudes may be
harmful to pupils’ well-being and their school learnings. A conflict of
meaning in science students has been documented by Belhandouz (2011).
A big effort is therefore needed in order to bring profound reforms in the
area of teacher pre-service and in-service education. The use of modern tech-
nologies of information and communication would help bring new insights
(Tiliouine 2002).
41.6 Conclusion and Recommendations
This chapter tried to give an overview of the status of children and young persons and
their education from an Islamic point of view and the role of religious socialization
and teaching. It was shown that Islam brought a real revolution in the Arabic
Peninsula and the territories which it could reach. Among the main achievement of
that civilization was a completely new educational system which responded to the
needs of a multicultural society and gained the backing of the population. Through
pacific means it could influence neighboring regions in the deepest parts of Africa and
Asian territories, to China. It was also built on an adapted theoretical and practical
knowledge of pedagogy and human learners’ needs (Nakosteen 1978). All that
happened within the frame of a typically religious umbrella. However, that system
failed to keep up with world scientific advances. It fell into classicism and Muslims in
general were gradually put under foreign domination. This latter contributed further
in dividing the Islamic world with randomly set borders, which amplified in-between
ethnic groups tensions (UNDP 2009).
Despite the fact that present Muslim nations have succeeded in regaining their
independence and are gradually modernizing, they seem to yet have a long way to
go in order to achieve a fair amount of quality of life in general, and specifically
a good quality of education for their young populations (Tiliouine and Meziane
2012). Clearly defining the role of religion in different development schemes
and particularly in the educational field seems to be urgently needed. The tradi-
tional educational model as applied in the pre-modern era seems not to fit well
with the needs of the present modern and postmodern times. Scientific and
technological advances are giving new shapes to human societies. Furthermore,
Muslims cannot in any way fulfil their needs for adequate food, water,
housing, medication, industrial and technological products, preserve their sover-
eignty, and so forth, without mastering modern science and cultivating creativity.
However, this in turn would not happen without relying on an educational system
that promotes and respects learners’ autonomy, critical thinking, and to provide
for students’ well-being in friendly environments and with a well-trained
personnel.
However, Muslim countries would take a good step forward if they fully
succeeded to achieve at least the Millennium Development Goals (MDGs) by
2015, to which they have officially adhered, mainly eradicating extreme poverty,
achieving universal primary education, promoting gender equality and empowering
women, providing proper health care to children and mothers, etc. Nevertheless,
data of the Third Arab Report on the MDGs indicate that by 2010 widespread unrest
in many countries such as Somalia, Sudan, and sub-Saharan Africa may jeopardise
development efforts in the region (United Nations and League of Arab States 2010).
Certainly, the situation is not much clearer in the Arab Spring countries (Tunisia,
Libya, Egypt, Yemen and Syria) and some other places such as Palestine, Iraq,
Afghanistan, Pakistan, Chechnya, Bahrain, and Myanmar. All the tensions distract
local populations from aspiring to improve young generations’ living conditions
1224 H. Tiliouine
and to enhancing their well-being. Facts such as rapid population growth (e.g., 60 %
of the Arab population is under the age of 25 years, making it one of the most
youthful regions in the world), sped up urbanization, water scarcity and pollution,
desertification and climate change (UNDP 2009), and soaring food product prices
all appeal for urgent collective actions between Muslim countries and a sincere
international alliance to help them surpass these sufferings.
Referring back to Islamic religious education, it should be reiterated that religion
is meant to lead its followers toward spiritual fulfilment, to avoid identity crises,
reinforce community belongingness, and avoid drugs and alcohol, which all have
a positive connotation and lead to well-balanced and healthy citizens. Religion has
been used as instrument, could become perverted. This applies to Islam currently,
as used to justify political ends by some so-called “Islamic” fundamentalist groups.
These marginal cases should not make the rule. Islamic teaching continues to
inspire people. For example, Bustamam-Ahmad & Jory (2011) forwarded their
volume by declaring: “The development of Islamic education in Southeast Asia is
tremendous and receiving an overwhelming support from the community. Many
governments support the establishment of Islamic educational institutions both
financially and administratively” (p. v). These institutions are succeeding in com-
bining religious subjects and modern “occidental” curricula. Nevertheless, scien-
tific methods should be applied in evaluating these experiences and assessing their
psychological impacts on students before they could be generalized to other
regions. Furthermore, other educational systems should carefully study the contents
of Islamic religious subjects and apply modern technologies of learning and
teaching in order to facilitate critical and long-lasting effects of learning. Religious
and moral education can be boring and superfluous if “rotely” taught. Therefore,
investing in educational innovation and a good preparation of teachers, educational
leaders, and advisors is a necessity toward achieving the higher objectives of
a humane education. Finally, democracy and wise governance remain desperately
needed prerequisites in Muslim countries.
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Section VII
An Ecological Perspective on
Child Well-Being
Family and Child Well-Being
42
Cigdem Kagitcibasi
42.1 Introduction
The title of this chapter is apt, as child well-being inherently involves the family.
The family, in turn, is very much a part of culture and society; therefore, child well-
being has to be studied in a sociocultural context. This means that an examination of
family and child well-being is inevitably complex and contextual, as it necessarily
addresses the interactions of individual, family (group), and societal-level phenom-
ena; thus, an ecological perspective is important. At the same time, however,
biologically based common developmental processes are also at work and need to
be considered. A balanced position will be pursued here.
Different disciplines have addressed family and child well-being, using psycho-
logical, sociological, anthropological, economic, and historical perspectives which
are all relevant to understanding the issues involved in the multifaceted phenomena
in question. This review focuses more on the psychological approaches to the topic
and aims to present research and theory as well as applications in the field.
Nevertheless, multidisciplinary perspectives are also considered, since a great
deal of research has been conducted in other disciplines, particularly in nutrition
and health.
There is also an attempt here to go beyond Western, especially American,
literature and to present also perspectives based on international and cross-cultural
research. Such an approach both reflects the global situation better and also
promises to be a corrective to the possible ethnocentrism of a purely Western
approach. Thus, a contextual/ecological approach with a global scope characterizes
this chapter.
C. Kagitcibasi
Koc University, Sariyer, Istanbul, Turkey

1230 C. Kagitcibasi
A final focus of this chapter is on applied research and implications, going

beyond “pure” research designed to describe and understand phenomena. Indeed
the concept of “child well-being” suggests (efforts toward) enhancing the condi-
tions in which the child is growing. Nevertheless, this focus does not mean a purely
applied outlook without theory, as such a view involving pure empiricism and trial
and error which would be highly wasteful. Good applications are those that are
informed by sound theory. As Kurt Lewin noted years ago in the dictum “There is
nothing so practical as a good theory.”
The applied emphasis here also reflects the social responsibility of science to
society and more specifically to child well-being. Such an emphasis is needed, as
a great deal of research with children is lacking in this respect, especially in the
Majority (non-Western) World. (A term I have used to refer to the “Developing
World” or the “Third World.” The gap between the “developing” and the “devel-
oped” countries is not decreasing; therefore, “developing world” is a misnomer, and
with the collapse of the “Second World,” the “Third World” does not make much
sense. Majority World refers to the majority of the world’s population living
outside of the Western (Northern/Developed) World.) I made this point before:
“Though highly beneficial for academic advancement, . . . research has contributed
little to the well-being of children or to societal development in the Majority
World . . . What are needed are insights into how improvement in human conditions
and human potential can be achieved” (Kagitcibasi 2007, p. 220). If developmental
psychology/science is to serve human well-being, applied research and applications
emerging from it would be called for. Such applications may involve supporting
and empowering parents; devising training programs targeting the caretakers and
the child; improving the physical, nutritional, and psychosocial environmental
conditions of the growing child; providing skills to increase employment opportu-
nities of parents; and the like. There are numerous projects in both the Western and
the Majority World which contain one or more such applications.
I will first look at research and applications to discuss how family and child well-
being have been treated in different areas of study. Well-being is a construal that
has been assuming increasing significance in the social sciences. Both objective and
subjective conceptualizations of this construct have been used, mostly with adults.
Considering family and children’s well-being, mostly problem-oriented and policy-
relevant research has been prominent with or without much theoretical basis. The
overall framework has been contextual, particularly looking into socioeconomic
disadvantage which has negative effects on parenting and child developmental
outcomes.
42.2 Parenting, Disadvantage, and Problem-Oriented Research
Parental goals, beliefs, and values constitute the most important component of the
context of development. Parental values about children reflect societal values, as
pointed out earlier regarding the Value of Children Study (Kagitcibasi 1982;
Kağıtçıbaşı and Ataca 2005). Early on, LeVine (1974, 1989) pointed to adaptation
42 Family and Child Well-Being 1231
to environmental requirements and challenges as the basis for parental goals and
behaviors. Later work further emphasized the importance of parental goals and built
greater confidence about the correspondence of parental beliefs and behavior, as
well as the significance of both for developmental outcomes (Bornstein and Bradley
2003; Harwood et al. 2002; for a review, see Kagitcibasi 2007).
Some controversial issues have been raised regarding the concordance or dis-
cordance of societal/parental values and children’s well-being. A basic question is
whether parental child-rearing patterns are in line with children’s developmental
trajectories. A well-known example is children’s work. While on the one hand,
child work is criticized as child abuse, particularly with the declaration of the
“Rights of the Child” (ILO 2002), some social scientists consider child work as
a normal process of socialization and learning of adult roles in society (Nsamenang
1992). The debate continues, and attempts at compromise are made, for example,
by differentiating “child work” from “child labor” (Boyden 1990). The issues and
values involved are complex and hard to resolve especially with rampant poverty in
the world necessitating children’s economic activity for survival.
Indeed growing up in poverty is the most serious challenge to child well-being.
A great number of studies from different disciplinary orientations have demon-
strated the powerful association between poverty and children’s negative develop-
mental outcomes. Most of this work has been carried out in the United States and
have used several measures of child health and development, especially pointing to
the deleterious effects of persistent poverty (e.g., Bolger et al. 1995; Duncan and
Brooks-Gunn 1997, 2000; Keating and Herzman 1999; McLoyd 1998; Yeung et al.
2002). Less evident factors such as the age and gender of the child affected by
poverty have also been studied (Bolger et al. 1995; Duncan and Magnuson 2003;
Elder 1985, 1995; Hoffman 2003).
Regarding policy and applications, studies show that there can be fast improve-
ment when measures are taken to increase family income. An example is the
“New Hope antipoverty program” in the United States. With wage supplements
and subsidies for child care and health insurance to parents, strong positive effects
were seen for boys. These included higher academic achievement, better classroom
conduct, prosocial behaviors, and advanced educational and occupational aspira-
tions (Huston et al. 2001). Other application results concur (e.g., Gennetian and
Miller 2002). The importance of a contextual approach is further shown by studies
demonstrating the effect of neighborhoods in addition to the family (Ceballo and
McLoyd 2002; Kohen et al. 2002).
During the last few decades, several models have been proposed relating child
development to context. For example, the “number” of risk factors in the family,
rather than their nature, has been emphasized by Sameroff (Sameroff and
Fiese 1992). Similar views have been put forward more recently, for example, by
Conger’s family stress model (Conger et al. 2000) and by Evans (2004). Such an
approach appears to be useful in detecting risks by health professionals and other
service providers involved in application and intervention programs. Family and
parenting are often construed as mediating factors between disadvantaged
contexts/ecologies and child development outcomes. In particular, parental distress,
1232 C. Kagitcibasi
interfering with responsive and supportive parenting, is considered to be the key

factor. Multilevel family process models point to chain effects from social disad-
vantage, poverty, income loss, and negative life events to parental distress
and irritable, harsh parenting to child’s antisocial traits and problem behavior
(e.g., Belsky and Pensky 1988; McLoyd 1990; Mistry et al. 2002; Patterson and
Dishion 1988). Positive or negative ecological factors such as mother’s social
support networks and harmful neighborhood characteristics further alleviate or
aggravate the situation, respectively (Ceballo and McLoyd 2002).
In the Majority World, there are similar programs where the conceptualization
of developmental risk often focuses on health and nutrition status; however, there
are attempts to expand its coverage to include also psychological factors (Landers
and Kagitcibasi 1990; UNICEF 2005). Since the 1980s, there has been a growing
attention to the proximal environment of the developing child. For example, an
early study showed the crucial role of the proximal environment in shielding the
child from adversity. In this study, in a remote poor mountain village in Mexico
where there was prevalent child malnutrition, children whose mothers listened to
the radio (a stimulant and information provider) had normal nutrition status
(Carvioto 1981). The concept of “positive deviance” was put forward by Zeitlin
et al. (1990) to refer to children who survive, even thrive, in adverse environments
thanks to positive parenting. These early studies were important in drawing atten-
tion to psychosocial factors such as child-caregiver interaction beyond objective
environmental conditions. The synergistic relationships between nutrition, health,
and psychosocial factors are highlighted and pursued further by more recent
research, as well (Armecin et al. 2005; Behrman et al. 2004; Behrman and
Hoddinott 2005; Grantham-McGregor et al. 2007).
Early childhood care and education (ECCE) has been another domain of
problem-oriented research and applications. In Western countries, preprimary
education is widespread, with 80 % coverage in Europe and 70 % in the
United States. The Majority World lags behind, the figure reaching a high of
54 % in Latin America, followed by a large margin by developing countries in
East Asia and Oceania, 29 %. It is down to 15 % in Arab countries, 11 % in
South Asia, and a mere 9 % in Sub-Saharan Africa (UNESCO 2005). Such great
disparities are serious for children’s well-being, as early education has been shown
to be very important for children’s cognitive development and preparation for
school, especially for those growing up in disadvantaged environments
(Engle et al. 2011; Van der Gaag 2002; Yoshikawa 1994; for an overview, see
Kagitcibasi 2007, Chap. 8).
Evaluation research has pointed to the beneficial effects of early childhood
educational intervention programs such as “Head Start” in the USA for children’s
developmental outcomes (e.g., Copple et al. 1987; McKey et al. 1985; Whitehurst
et al. 1999). Several other early education interventions have also demonstrated
positive outcomes for children’s well-being over the last decades in the United
States (e.g., Berrueta-Clement et al. 1984; Blok et al. 2005; Campbell et al. 2002;
Reynolds and Ou 2004; Schweinhart et al. 1994; Schweinhart et al. 2005; Wasik
et al. 1990; Yoshikawa 1994) and in the UK (Sylva et al. 2003). Evaluation research
is scarce in the Majority World. Myers (1992) reviewed evidence from several
countries, pointing to some positive results of intervention. Other comparative
analyses of school outcomes in 13 Latin American countries (Willms 2002) and
in Africa, Haiti, Eastern Europe, Russia, South Africa, and Mongolia (Kirpal 2002)
have also shown benefits. Much more needs to be known regarding the early
educational needs of children, and concerted efforts are needed to improve the
conditions in the Majority World, as a recent extensive review has stressed
(Engle et al. 2011).
The studies presented in this section have mainly pointed to the negative
environmental conditions involving risk factors leading to developmental problems
and the positive impact of interventions. Applications and policy efforts have
utilized the valuable contributions of such problem-oriented research. In general,
an ecological perspective has been used, effectively dealing with multilevel
contextual factors for analysis and intervention. Next, contextual orientation and
ecological theory are further examined considering the theoretical and meta-
theoretical issues involved in research and applications.
42.3 Theoretical and Meta-theoretical Issues: Development in

Context
Some theoretical and meta-theoretical issues have surfaced in studies concerning

family and child well-being in context as well as in applied efforts thereof. These
issues have often concerned ecological perspectives and goals of research.
42.3.1 Ecological/Contextual Perspectives
An interest in development in context has a long history in philosophy, education,

psychology, and sociology. Cultural context, as a source of meaning, was
highlighted by social constructionists, interpretive anthropologists, and cultural
psychologists. The basic idea here is that people attribute meaning to their envi-
ronments, thus creating culture; in turn, culture and cultural symbols provide
meaning to people; thus “culture and mind make each other up” (Shweder 1990,
p. 27). More recently, ecological theory and life-span developmental theory have
been important for shedding light on human development in context.
Ecological theory in psychology has its antecedents in Lewin’s (1958) topological
psychology, in Brunswik’s (1955) “environment-organism-environment arc,” and in
Barker’s (1968) ecological psychology. Subsequent perspectives have included
developmental concerns and have led to a general recognition of multilevel bases
of human development, as formulated by Bronfenbrenner (1979, 1986). The eco-
logical systems theory of Bronfenbrenner reaches out to culture at the macro-system
level, embedding the exo-, meso-, and micro-systems that all embed the growing
child. The model is dynamic involving mutual interactions at all levels. From
a systems perspective, changes in any level can create changes in the other levels.
1234 C. Kagitcibasi
There are implications of this for policy and practice. For example, a policy change
(macro-system) regarding the provision of child care services to the working
mothers of young children would lead to new child care centers (exo-system), less
extended family care for children, and more peer and non-kin experience for the
children (meso- and micro-systems). With the subsequent addition of the “time”
dimension (Bronfenbrenner and Evans 2000), this has become a “crono-system,”
reflecting the influence of the “life course perspective” in sociology (Elder 1998).
Other ecological perspectives, particularly Berry’s (1980) “eco-cultural frame-
work” (see Georgas et al. 2006) and Super and Harkness’ (1986, 1997) “develop-
mental niche,” have further dealt with the cultural context and the settings in which
individual functioning is embedded. Finally, Kagitcibasi’s “family change theory”
(1990, 2007) also involves an ecological perspective and concerns family in
context. This theoretical orientation most directly focuses on the family in the
cultural and socioeconomic contexts and through the family, the developing
“self.” In particular, it sheds light on the variations and changes in family models
and the resultant self. Family change theory will serve as the main theoretical
framework for the examination of family and child well-being in this chapter.
42.3.2 Defining Goals of Research
While understanding development in context is of great importance, applied

research and applications toward enhancing child well-being also need to
define goals. These goals may involve supporting or changing the contexts of
development, toward which efforts are to be made. Foremost among these goals
would be proposing optimal development models which would be both contextu-
ally/culturally relevant and also hopefully have more extensive (universal?) appli-
cability. I have called this “achieving contextualism without cultural relativism”
(Kagitcibasi 2000). Both contextual relevance and more extensive (possibly univer-
sal) applicability are important because contexts are neither necessarily unique nor
static. This is especially true for the context of social change such as rural to urban
mobility. Urbanization is a global phenomenon. Thus, while in 1990 the rural youth
population (ages 10–19) in developing countries was twice the size of urban youth
populations, in 2015 the two populations are expected to be equal and in 2025 the
urban population to surpass the rural one significantly (Smith et al. 2006, p. 5). What
was adaptive in the agrarian rural village may not be adaptive in the semi-urban
shanty town. What is adaptive in changing circumstances and what is not is an
empirical issue that can be investigated. In a world becoming more urbanized with
increasingly similar lifestyles, there are significant policy implications of this view.
A model of healthy human development through childhood and adolescence
implies that we can suggest standards or benchmarks for optimal development.
Such benchmarks would provide us with norms regarding human development,
parallel to norms of human growth widely used by pediatricians and nutrition
scientists. Such norms would be especially helpful in informing field applications
carried out by public health agencies and others in the service of families and
children. They would help contribute to efforts toward supporting family and child
well-being globally.
Does this mean that there are no unique insights and perspectives that could be
drawn from particular cultural experiences? Certainly there are, and they could
indeed contribute to both cultural scholarship and to global knowledge. What is
important is that we do not succumb to “false uniqueness” (assume that
a phenomenon is unique while it may exist somewhere else as well). Neither should
we yield to “false universality” (assume commonality where there may be none).
The concept of “endogenous development,” first proposed by UNESCO in 1979,
may be useful in this context. It refers to aligning development with societal values
on the one hand and developing effective systems that can cope with global changes
on the other. Thus, endogenous development involves both cultivation of the local
and also reaching out to the global, and it often takes the form of creating
a synthesis of the two. I have called this an “integrative synthesis” (Kagitcibasi
2007); it may be established in different spheres of human development. The
following section presents the specific perspective of this chapter.
42.4 The Specific Perspective of This Chapter
Given that family and child well-being is an amorphous topic that has been studied
from various disciplinary stands with different theoretical viewpoints, and varying
emphases on describing/analyzing or applied work, it is difficult to have a compre-
hensive coverage in a chapter. Also different aspects are presented in the other
chapters of this handbook. Thus, a highly selective approach will be pursued here.
In the above introductory sections, I presented an overview of work from various
disciplinary perspectives showing the variety of topics and approaches pursued in
family and child well-being particularly in disadvantaged contexts. Basic theoret-
ical and meta-theoretical issues have been discussed in this chapter regarding child
development in context. They form the main viewpoints used in the field; however,
these issues remain at a rather abstract level. Therefore, a more focused theoretical
perspective will now be taken involving some integrative syntheses deriving on the
one hand from mainstream (Western) psychology and on the other hand from
cultural perspectives based on research in non-Western societies. These syntheses
are based on my theoretical work and concern well-being at the level of the
developing person and the family. They are formulated in terms of the development
of the “self” and the development of “competence,” and they are examined within
the family context. Thus, the development of the self and the development of
competence are analyzed as two examples of well-being in the context of socio-
cultural change. This theoretical perspective is proposed here as a useful framework
for understanding and enhancing child well-being. Then The Turkish Early Enrich-
ment Project (TEEP) will be taken up as a case in point to show how these syntheses
of well-being can be nurtured and promoted.
1236 C. Kagitcibasi
42.5 Autonomous-Related Self as an Integrative Synthesis for

Well-Being
Autonomous-related self is an integrative synthesis which has not been well

recognized in mainstream psychology (Kagitcibasi 2007). While relatedness and
autonomy have long been considered as basic human needs, they have also been
conceived as conflicting. This perspective reflects a Western individualistic stance,
seeing connectedness to others as a threat to individual autonomy, a view upheld
especially by psychoanalytically oriented perspectives. Also, again reflecting an
individualistic world view, one of these basic needs, autonomy, has been
overemphasized in the study of self. In a great deal of Western scholarship and
teaching ranging from American social psychology to German sociology and
symbolic action theory, from family systems theory in clinical psychology to
popular psychology, the importance of autonomy, agency, individual privacy,
independence, and self-reliance has been strongly endorsed, often at the cost of
neglecting relatedness.
Given their assumed conflicting nature, relatedness is often seen as incompatible
with autonomy, or separation from others is seen as necessary for autonomy. This is
the basic thesis of the psychoanalytically informed “separation-individuation”
hypothesis (e.g., Mahler 1972; Steinberg and Silverberg 1986), “individualization”
theory (Crockett and Silbereisen 2000), and feminist scholarship (Chodorow 1989;
see Kegan 1994). Yet, it is neither logically nor psychologically necessary for
autonomy to mean separateness if we recognize the (co)existence of two distinct
dimensions, namely, “agency,” ranging from autonomy to heteronomy, and “inter-
personal distance,” ranging from separateness to relatedness (connectedness)
(Kagitcibasi 2005, 2007). The agency dimension is logically and psychologically
distinct from the interpersonal distance dimension. While the former has to do with
motivated action orientation, the latter concerns the degree of connectedness with
others. One does not imply the other or the lack of it.
In other words, autonomy and relatedness are not the opposite end points of
a continuum, as often assumed. Such an assumption reflects an individualistic bias
which claims that related individuals lack autonomy. The implications are rather
disturbing for the so-called collectivistic “cultures of relatedness” which constitute
the majority of the world’s population. Whereas, as distinct dimensions, either pole
of the agency dimension can coexist with either pole of the interpersonal distance
dimension. This renders possible four different types of self, the autonomous-
separate self, the heteronomous-separate self, the heteronomous-related self, and
the autonomous-related self (Kagitcibasi 2005, 2007).
From a cross-cultural perspective, one can say that in socializing children,
individualistic societies have recognized the need for autonomy and have satisfied
it while to some extent ignoring the need for relatedness; collectivistic societies
have done the opposite. The former thus promote the autonomous-separate self
while the latter the heteronomous-related (dependent) self. Both leave something to
be desired, since a balanced treatment of these two basic needs, that is, the
autonomous-related self, would be the more optimal self model for well-being.
The implications for most Majority World child development research appear clear.
Closely knit human ties, that is, relatedness, is commonplace in the non-Western
world. Thus, the “related self” is naturally nurtured in child-rearing. What could be
added is a corresponding emphasis on granting autonomy in child-rearing, to
promote the development of the autonomous-related self, a model of well-being.
This type of a balanced self, an integrative synthesis, is an endogenous model
that is more psychologically healthy, since it satisfies both of the two basic needs,
and also is more adaptive to changing lifestyles through socioeconomic develop-
ment and industrialization. For example, while indigenous relatedness is conducive
to the cultivation of social responsibility and cooperativeness, autonomy is condu-
cive to individual decision making and to agency to carry out the decision. With
increased schooling and specialization in urban lifestyles, autonomous decision
making and agency become significant assets. Thus, the attributes of relatedness
and autonomy are highly adaptive for well-being, success, and adaptation to social
change involving urbanization, increased schooling, and increased affluence.
Therefore, they can be the goals of supportive policies and programs toward
endogenous human and societal development in the process of global urbanization.
42.6 Cognitive + Social Intelligence as an Integrative Synthesis

for Competence and Well-Being
A similar picture appears to emerge with regard to the development of competence.

Since 1970s, a great deal of cognitive anthropological and cultural research in the
Majority World, particularly in rural areas, has pointed to “social intelligence”
involving sensitivity to the needs of others, being dependable and responsible,
together with practical and technical skills (Nsamenang 1992; Serpell 1977,
2011; Super and Harkness 1997). Similar conceptualizations of intelligence are
reported more recently with ethnic minorities in Europe and the USA (Deković
et al. 2006) and with other non-Western groups such as Mayan Guatemalan children
(Rogoff 2003) and less educated Turkish mothers (Kagitcibasi et al. 2001). Thus, in
line with connected closely knit human ties, social intelligence is prevalent in the
Majority World.
With urbanization and schooling, new lifestyles emerge which make new
demands on the developing child. In particular, cognitive, school-like competence
is required for progress in school and adaptation to more specialized work contexts.
Lacking the cognitive focus creates a mismatch with environmental demands and
leads to problems in adaptation. For example, studies point to problems children
face in school when parents emphasize the importance of social skills rather than
cognitive skills for school success (e.g., Deković et al. 2006; Nunes 2005; Okagaki
and Sternberg 1993). However, this need not entail replacing of social intelligence
with cognitive intelligence, but rather supplementing the former with the latter,
since the two can easily coexist. Furthermore, as each one serves an important
function for adaptation to environmental demands, having both would appear to be
more optimal for well-being than having only one. Thus, when “social intelligence”
1238 C. Kagitcibasi
is supplemented by “cognitive, school-like intelligence,” the synthesis is likely to

be more adaptive in urbanizing society with increasing specialization and knowl-
edge economy. This can also be seen as an integrative synthesis – an endogenous
development toward well-being.
While it is certainly desirable to consider the local circumstances and realities,
we should be careful not to end up in double standards. For example, we should not
recommend Koranic schooling or informal teaching/learning of traditional handi-
crafts, etc., as “appropriate education,” “given the needs of Third World countries”
(Wagner 1988, p. 106), while modern schooling, involving high levels of scientific
knowledge and cognitive skills, is considered appropriate for the children in the
North. In other words, in the name of cultural “tolerance,” there should not be an
endorsement of habits and behavior patterns that are not conducive to success in
changing environments. In a fast globalizing world, for the so-called developing
countries to really develop, they have to compete in world markets and do as well as
the countries of the North. Otherwise, the great divide will only increase.
42.7 The Family as a Developmental Context
In the sections above, I discussed the autonomous-related self and the cognitive-
social intelligence as integrative syntheses for positive development models toward
well-being. From an ecological perspective, the immediate question to be raised
here is what type of immediate environment – family – would be conducive to the
development of such positive syntheses in the growing child. Kagitcibasi’s (1990,
2007) family change theory is quite relevant here, particularly with regard to the
autonomous-related self. In fact, this self-construct derived from my family change
theory (Kagitcibasi 2005, 2007). This theory concerns the connections among the
different aspects of the cultural and socioeconomic environment and lifestyles,
family structure and family systems, family interactions and child-rearing, and
the development of the self.
Family change theory was based on the Value of Children research (see
Kagitcibasi 1982, 2007; Kağıtçıbaşı and Ataca 2005) studying values attributed
by parents to children and expectations from children. The theory proposes “a
general model of family in context” (Kagitcibasi 2007, p. 134). Two aspects of
this context are “culture” and “living conditions”; the former entails mainly culture
of separateness – culture of relatedness (individualism-collectivism) dimension; the
latter involves urban–rural and SES variations (affluence). Three different proto-
typical family models are proposed. The family model of (total) interdependence is
prototypical of the collectivistic rural agrarian family and is also prevalent in urban
low-income groups with limited resources, where children have utilitarian-
economic value and are sources of old age security for their parents. In such
a family system, the autonomy of the child is not desired, since an autonomous
child may develop into an independent adult and may separate himself/herself from
the family, endangering family integrity and survival. Thus, obedience-oriented
child-rearing is common and upholds closely knit family relations. The contrasting
family model is independence, which is prototypical of the individualistic Western

industrial, affluent middle class urban society, and which entails autonomy and self-
reliance orientation in child-rearing, since individual autonomy is adaptive, and
separation of the adult offspring is not a threat to the family livelihood.
Given the pervasive influence of modernization theory, it is often assumed that
there is a global shift from the family model of interdependence to the family model
of independence with increased urbanization and affluence in the Majority World.
However, research shows that this may not be the case. What appears to happen is
that material interdependencies in the family (including old age security value of
the child) decrease with urban lifestyles and affluence, but psychological
interdependence continues to be valued, given the continuing culture of relatedness
(collectivistic values). This is the family model of psychological/emotional
interdependence (Kagitcibasi 1990, 2007). Here autonomy enters into child-rearing
because the offspring’s autonomy is no longer a threat to family livelihood, since
material dependence on adult offspring has decreased with increased affluence.
Autonomy is also highly adaptive in urbanized lifestyles. However, the value of
close-knit ties and parental control are maintained, since the separation of the
growing child is not valued. Combination of autonomy with relatedness leads to
the emergence of the “autonomous-related self.” There is increasing research
evidence for this model (Kim et al. 2005; Mayer et al. 2012; Schwartz et al. 2005
for extensive reviews, see Kagitcibasi 2005, 2007).
This theory is used in this chapter as a general framework for understanding the
ecological setting for the development of the autonomous-related self and also
indirectly for cognitive + social intelligence. Regarding the autonomous-related
self, it needs to be reiterated that this is a healthy model of self, indicating
well-being, since it integrates both of the basic needs for autonomy and relatedness.
In this sense, it is to be preferred both to the autonomous-separate self, where the
need for relatedness is not satisfied, and also to the heteronomous-related self,
which does not satisfy the need for autonomy.
The psychologically/emotionally interdependent family is particularly suited to
the development of the autonomous-related self. First of all, the intergenerational
and interpersonal relations are closely bound in this family where emotional
interdependence is accepted, even valued. Relatedness is found to be associated
with well-being, for example, among Dutch, Turkish, and Moroccan adolescents in
the Netherlands (Meeus et al. 2002), whereas separateness from parents is found to
be associated with developmental problems in research from several societies
(Beyers and Goossens 1999; Chen and Dornbusch 1998; Chou 2000; Garber and
Little 2001; for an extensive review, see Kagitcibasi 2007).
In this family model, relatedness is not at the cost of agency, since child-rearing
involves both parental control and also granting of autonomy. Thus, this is “order-
setting control” (Lau et al. 1990), which provides structure, rather than dominating
(authoritarian) control. A recent study with Turkish adolescents (Kaya 2012) found
this type of parental control to be seen as “legitimate” and to be better accepted by
adolescents. Such parenting is akin to what Baumrind (1980) called “authoritative
parenting”; it integrates structure-providing control, warmth, and autonomy.
1240 C. Kagitcibasi
Thus, the coexistence of closeness (warmth) and autonomy granting in the family
model of psychological/emotional interdependence provides the family ecology
that is conducive to the development of the autonomous-related self.
With regard to the integrative synthesis of cognitive + social intelligence, the
psychological/emotional interdependent family can also be a nourishing ecological
setting, though less directly than for the integrative synthesis of the autonomous-
related self. The emphasis on relatedness in this type of family is conducive to the
socialization of the child as a person connected to others who would be sensitive to
others’ needs, evaluations, and expectations. As noted earlier, this has been
described as “social intelligence” (Mundy-Castle 1974). For example, in a study,
Serpell (1977) found in an African village that adults’ views of an “intelligent
child” included reliability and responsibility toward others. Other work further
corroborated this construal (e.g., Dasen 1984; Nsamenang and Lamb 1994; for
a review see Kagitcibasi 2007).
Again as noted, changing lifestyles, in particular urbanization, higher education,
specialization, technology, and in general knowledge society, make demands on
individuals to develop their cognitive capacities to meet these new challenges.
Cognitive, school-like intelligence becomes an asset, even a necessity, with socio-
economic development. The more the cognitive potentials of individuals are real-
ized, the better their adaptation to modern technological and post-technological
society.
Thus, what is suggested here is that the development of a self involving both
autonomy and relatedness, as well as the development of a competence involving
both cognitive and social intelligence, may be seen as optimal for well-being. It is
further suggested that the family model of psychological/emotional
interdependence may be optimal for family well-being. If these are some markers
of well-being, the next question is how can they be nurtured? This question brings
us to the realm of applications, interventions, and policy recommendations. Just as
I have dwelt upon the autonomous-related self, the cognitive + social intelligence
and the psychological/emotional interdependent family as examples of well-being,
in the next section, I will present an applied research as a case of an intervention to
enhance these examples of well-being.
42.8 TEEP as a Case in Point
The above sections examined self, competence, and family in eco-cultural context
and discussed the complex interrelations among them. These theoretical perspec-
tives are helpful to understand family and child well-being, and they are backed by
a great deal of research; I now turn to an applied research as a case in point, which
exemplifies these perspectives as they inform applied work. This section presents
the long-term results of our longitudinal study covering 22 years – The Turkish
Early Enrichment Project (TEEP) (Kagitcibasi 1991, 1995; Kagitcibasi et al. 2001,
2009). This study was designed to promote overall human development in the
context of rural to urban migration in Istanbul, Turkey. The families participating
in the study were mainly former villagers. Most of the mothers had only an
elementary education (mean 5.36 years). About two thirds were working as
unskilled factory workers.
The original research was a 4-year longitudinal intervention study (1982–1986)
conducted in five low-income districts of Istanbul with 255 mothers and their young
children (3–5 years of age). Two follow-up studies were conducted in 1992 and in
2004. In the first year, mothers and their children were studied for baselines. In the
second and the third years of the original study, a randomly selected sample of the
mothers were given a mother-child training program, the main experimental inter-
vention. It focused on both the cognitive development of children, which the
mothers applied with their children at home, and also on supporting mothers in
their child-rearing roles and empowering them. This was done by reinforcing the
existing close mother-child relationship, on the one hand, and by capitalizing on
the existing communal support systems, on the other. The latter were utilized in
the group meetings of mothers in the community. The second source of early
enrichment intervention was educational child care centers some of the children
were attending. Children were in one of three alternative care environments: an
educational day care center, a custodial day care center, or home care.
The impact of intervention on both the mothers and the children was found to be
notable in the fourth year of the study when reassessments were carried out with
both mothers and children. The children from educational nursery schools showed
better performance on most of the measures compared to those from custodial day
care centers and those who were cared at home. At the same time, the mother-
trained group of children was superior to the control group on school adjustment
and self-concept. Mother training also positively influenced mothers’ orientation to
their children.
Longer term effects were studied through a follow-up study 7 years later with
217 families, and the gains from the intervention were found to be sustained. The
adolescents (13–15 years of age) whose mothers participated in the mother training
program surpassed the control group in cognitive performance and school achieve-
ment. They also showed greater autonomy, more positive self-concept, and better
family and social adjustment. 86 % of the adolescents’ mothers had undergone
mother training, but only 67 % of the control group were still in school. Mother
training also positively affected school grades throughout the years of compulsory
education. As schooling is the main route for social mobility in urban low-income
contexts, the social implications of these finding are very important. Both mother-
trained and educational daycare group of adolescents had higher scores than the
other groups on a standardized vocabulary test.
A second follow-up study conducted 12 years after the first follow-up (19 years
after the intervention) aimed to explore the continuing effects of early intervention
on the participants’ educational attainment, socioeconomic success, family rela-
tionships, and social participation and adjustment. Of the 217 participants in the
first follow-up study, 132 were located and interviewed, for a response rate of 61 %.
Comparisons of participants and nonparticipants indicated no significant differ-
ences between the two groups in terms of their gender, preprogram IQ score, family
1242 C. Kagitcibasi
socioeconomic level, and school attainment during the first follow-up, suggesting
that the participants represented the original sample.
The children were young adults at the time of the second follow-up with a mean
age of 25.4 years. The results showed that compared with no early intervention,
those young adults who experienced early enrichment, in the form of either attending
an educational day care center or having mother training, or both, did better in terms
of several indicators of sociocultural adaptation and social integration in modern
urban life. In particular, the training group had longer school attainment and higher
university attendance. In line with this higher schooling, this group started gainful
employment at a later age. This is important, since later beginning of full-time
employment predicts more specialized work, requiring more education, and bringing
higher lifetime earnings. Accordingly, the experimental group had higher occupa-
tional status. They also obtained higher scores on a vocabulary test and owned more
personal computers and credit cards. Clearly, these young people were more active
participants in knowledge society and modern economy (Kagitçibasi et al. 2009).
Such sustained gains over time have rarely been demonstrated. Beyond just
a handful of studies in the United States (e.g., Campbell et al. 2002; Reynolds and
Ou 2004; Schweinhart et al. 2005), they hardly exist. Even the results of some of
these well-known American projects are less extensive over time, as demonstrated
by a recent meta-analysis (Blok et al. 2005).
42.9 Implications of TEEP
TEEP is an example of a model of intervention that has been successful, as it has

built upon the existing strengths in the family and promoted them further for overall
individual – family-community well-being. As the focus expanded from the indi-
vidual child to interactions between the child and the environment, multiple and
expanding benefits accrued from the intervention. An important focus of the TEEP
was child-rearing orientations. Specifically, an attempt was made to introduce
“autonomy” in child-rearing while reinforcing the maintenance of “closely knit
human/family ties.” Results showed that more of the trained mothers came to
appreciate their children’s autonomy while remaining as close to them as the
control group of mothers. Greater degrees of autonomy were also found among
the mother-trained children (adolescents). Thus, the autonomous-related self as an
integrative synthesis appeared to be an achievable goal.
A second way in which a modification in child-rearing orientations was accom-
plished was through sensitizing the mothers to the importance of early learning
environments and by supporting them to get involved directly in the early education
of their children. First-year baseline assessments had pointed to generally low
levels of communication with children and low levels of environmental stimulation
at home (Kagitcibasi et al. 2001). Intervention results showed increased levels of
mother-child interaction as well as more supportive mother teaching styles and
more verbalization among the trained mothers compared with the control group.
Given the already existing emphasis on social intelligence in terms of social
responsibility, care and sensitivity to others’ needs, and respect for parents in the
culture of relatedness, what was added was the goal of cognitive enhancement.
Thus, again an integrative synthesis – “cognitive + social intelligence” – appeared
to be an achievable goal.
TEEP has led to major program and policy developments. In 1993, Mother-
Child Education Foundation (ACEV) was founded to expand applications.
A Mother-Child Education Program (MOCEP) was developed, which is operative
across the country, having reached some 650,000 mothers and children by the end
of 2011. A policy change has followed in the Ministry of Education endorsement of
nonformal home- and community-based early childhood education through the
mother to supplement formal preschool education. A Father Support Program has
also developed out of MOCEP and is being implemented widely. MOCEP has been
adapted to television and has been aired in public television both in Turkey and
abroad. An evaluation research carried out with viewers pointed to substantial gains
in children (Baydar et al. 2007). Finally, MOCEP is being implemented with ethnic
minorities in Belgium, Germany, France, and Switzerland and in Arabic translation
in Bahrain (Hadeed 2005), Jordan, and Saudi Arabia.
42.10 Conclusion
TEEP and the resulting wide-scale applications of MOCEP have significant impli-
cations for the Majority World. To contribute to child development, the two
integrative syntheses – “autonomous-related self” and “cognitive + social intelli-
gence” – would appear relevant and achievable. Given the increasingly urbanizing
lifestyles and the challenges brought about by social structural changes, these
balanced self and competence models need to be seriously pursued toward enhanc-
ing well-being.
While discussing “goals of research” earlier, I emphasized the importance of
rendering applications both culturally relevant and also possibly universally valid
and applicable. How is this to be achieved? In applied intervention research, such
an endeavor might involve, for example, using common (shared) developmental
goals such as adequate language and cognitive development and promoting such
development through adult-child verbal interactions. However, this (universal)
goal could be achieved through culturally sensitive and appropriate methods such
as making use of familiar group activities to provide caretakers with an under-
standing of the importance of vocabulary, etc., for later success of children in
school and urban jobs and supporting mother’s groups to discuss such develop-
ment and to help them decide to engage in more verbal communication
with young children. Rendering participants to be active partners rather than
recipients of applied field research/intervention grants them decision-making
power and ownership of an activity, thus achieving cultural relevance. This was
done in TEEP.
This is again an example of a type of integrative synthesis of the two visions:
the universal and the contextual – common (possibly universal) developmental
1244 C. Kagitcibasi
goals + culturally appropriate approaches/methods to render them desirable and to

achieve them. Other types of syntheses or creative combinations could also be
envisioned. A main point is that such syntheses do not remain only at the ideational
level but are manifested in research and applications.
The main body of this chapter has been informed by my theory of the self and
theory of family change. In discussing family and child well-being from this
theoretical perspective, I have taken up the integrative syntheses of autonomous-
related self and social + cognitive intelligence as indicators or aspects of well-
being. I have also examined family well-being in terms of a developmental context
conducive to the nurturance of these well-being indicators. Given that there are
many other indicators of well-being, this has been a selective approach. I have used
this approach for a number of reasons. Specifically, I have wanted to analyze in
some depth a few variables or aspects of well-being as examples, rather than
describing many. Also, an approach informed by a specific theory would be of
greater value in terms of generalization and application in different contexts.
Considering, in particular, the global trends of urbanization bringing about more
similar lifestyles for growing children, the topics I have selected would appear to
have great importance for child and family well-being.
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Effects of School on the Well-Being
of Children and Adolescents 43
Francisco Juan Garcı́a Bacete, Ghislaine Marande Perrin,
Barry H. Schneider, and Celine Blanchard
Structure of this Chapter

In this chapter, we describe the many ways in which schools can and do
influence the well-being of their pupils.
The introduction addresses the main justifications for the interest in
studying the effects of school on the development of children and adoles-
cents, putting at issue whether schools are optimal contexts to promote their
happiness and well-being.
In the second section, we begin with a consideration of the indicators of
well-being that should be considered in weighing the effects of schools, thus
clarifying what is meant by well-being according to general and specific
determinants. At this point we notice that, although schools are the context
where the well-being of children and adolescents has been mostly studied,
there is no consensus on the results, noting the absence of a theory or theories
that would help one understand the influence of schools on well-being and
provide a framework for analysis and agenda. As a basis for that purpose we
therefore propose the self-determination theory; we describe the theory and
identify some specific indicators of well-being which have been highlighted
by research based on this theory (intrapersonal, interpersonal, and contextual
F.J. Garcı́a Bacete (*) • G. Marande Perrin

Departamento de Psicologia Evolutiva, Educativa, Social i Metodologia, Facultad de Ciencias
Sociales y Humanas, Universitat Jaume I, Castellon, Spain
B.H. Schneider • C. Blanchard
School of Psychology, Ottawa University, Ontario, Canada

1252 F.J. Garcı́a Bacete et al.
factors). In accordance with the need for people to be/feel connected as it is

proposed by the theory, the three subsections of this part show the importance
of peer processes – including friendships and peer preferences – in school
motivation and psychological well-being (peer relations as direct facilitators
of well-being). Then we turn to the way in which school can help facilitate
children’s peer relations (direct way or social skills). The second section
concludes by focusing on the differential contributions of peers, family,
school, and family–school relationships to the child’s well-being.
In the third section we continue enumerating the modalities by which
schools exert their many and diverse influences. This part focuses on the
various indirect ways in which schools contribute to positive social relation-
ships between peers and their well-being. The section primarily deals with the
climate and ecology of the school. We begin with a few lines about
a necessary condition: schools must ensure the safety of children. Then the
two largest subsections describe the contribution of physical ecology
(arrangement of space, size of the school, pupil–teacher ratio, grades config-
urations) and of social ecology and culture (the teacher makes a difference,
school climate, and goal structure). The final two subsections examine two
basic issues: one is more classical – the initial differences between schools
and how this can have an influence on the pupils’ well-being – and a more
recent question, now arousing great interest: the contribution of recreation
time and extracurricular activities (informal ecology).
In the fourth section, we present a brief summary of the empirical evidence to
date, together with a discussion of some methodological issues. This section
includes results provided by research embedded into the school effects tradition,
thereby indicating that there is still a rather incomplete connection between the
two traditions, school effects and well-being indicators.
The chapter concludes with some specific ideas for school-based interven-
tion to promote the well-being of children and adolescents.
43.1 Introduction
The emerging clarity as to the basic nature of well-being has encompassed both
subjective and objective indicators. Considering further the subjective perspective
of the individual, Eminent Yale University political scientist Robert E. Lane (2000)
points out that, despite the fact that, in the 50 years from 1950 to 2000, education
and income have increased significantly in North America, ironically, subjective
feelings of well-being have not increased at all. Unfortunately, it has been
documented in a number of studies that life-satisfaction declines during the
adolescent years (De Fraine et al. 2005; Currie et al. 2008; Huebner 2004). Perhaps
this is partly due to dissatisfaction with schooling and with what goes on in schools.
Indeed, many adolescents are bored much of the time at school (Larson 2000;
Navarrate 1999). They often feel a profound sense of uncertainty about their future
43 Effects of School on the Well-Being of Children and Adolescents 1253
(Eccles et al. 2008). In most societies, it is understood that quality schooling

constitutes an investment in the future of the society (Pianta 2006). In any case, it
cannot be forgotten that children in developed countries spend a great amount of
time at school during stages of their development during which they are undergoing
important physical, social, and psychological change (Mortimer 2003; Roeser et al.
2009; Seilstr€
om and Bremberg 2006). Furthermore, it has been argued by many that
one of the fundamental purposes of schools, though not by any means their sole
purpose, is to promote children’s long-term well-being (Garcı́a Bacete 2009;
Garcı́a Bacete and Martı́nez-González 2006).
43.1.1 Schools as Important Determinants of Children’s Well-Being
Before the 1970s, it was commonly believed that schools had no more than
marginal effects on children’s development and well-being (e.g., Rutter and
Maughan 2002; Scheerens and Bosker 1997). Therefore, even though researchers
often found it convenient to collect data in schools regarding children’s and
adolescents’ well-being, little of this research took into account the many ways
by which the school itself may influence the outcomes that are studied (Epstein and
Karweit 1983). In sharp contrast, a few scholars assigned a primary role to the
social skill of adjusting to the reality of the school situation and handling its
interpersonal demands in an effective manner (Loranger 1984; Stephens 1976,
1981). However, starting in the 1970s, a number of somewhat serendipitous find-
ings led to a greater appreciation of the fact that schools make a difference, in fact
a substantial difference. For example, it was noticed in many longitudinal studies on
children’s well-being and adjustment that there were large differences among
schools in their pupils’ well-being that could not be explained by any variables
other than those pertaining to the schools themselves (Rutter and Maughan 2002).
Another reason for greater interest in the effects of schools is better understand-
ing of the implications of being literate for people’s well-being. The Soviet
psychologist Vygotsky (1978) emphasized the acquisition of literacy as the source
of profound changes in the individual’s thinking, and attributed considerable
importance to the school as a venue for fostering development and well-being in
general. Positive correlations between academic achievement, well-being, and
mental health attest to this (Gershoff and Aber 2006; Roeser et al. 1998b; Samdal
et al. 1999).
In her persuasive treatise on happiness in education, Noddings (2003),
an American philosopher and educationalist, begins with a reminder that Aristotle
considered the pursuit of knowledge as happiness by itself. Plato believed that
doing one’s work well is a major source of happiness; achieving that is one of the
aims of contemporary education. Noddings observes that personal individual hap-
piness is not usually discussed as an aim of education although she believes it
should be. She calls for more extensive reflection about what the purposes of
education should be. Such reflection should hopefully lead to thinking about
goals that go beyond the acquisition of basic academic content. According to her,
schools should not only teach subject matter but also prepare students for what will
make them happy as citizens with commitment to others, underprivileged people,
homemakers, relationship partners, parents, and spiritual beings. Some may argue
that these objectives are supposed to be those of families, as they once were.
However, she insists that this is now the role of schools. An important part of the
curriculum should be devoted to the nature of friendship, which might be taught
through literature. Noddings argues that schools should provide a rich curriculum
for every talent, pursuit of which will lead to happiness.
43.1.2 Are Schools Optimal Contexts for Healthy Child

Development and Well-Being?
Educational theorists have referred to two distinct levels of school influence and
socialization, the instrumental and the expressive (Bloom 1977; Isherwood and
Ahola 1981). Isherwood and Ahola further subdivide the instrumental level into
official instrumental and hidden instrumental features. Official instrumental aspects
of school life have to do with the accomplishment of the school’s official objectives
such as the acquisition of academic skill and content. Hidden instrumental aspects
pertain to efforts exerted to maintain the structure of the school system, such as
reinforcement by teachers of conformity to the group structure and sanctions for the
violations of school rules. In counterpoint to such formal, instrumental socialization
are the experiences offered by means of interactions among pupils, sharing of
perspectives and feelings. It is this expressive socialization that probably has
more to do with pupil well-being although academic competence and learning to
adapt to structured settings are adaptive as well. Ahola and Isherwood emphasize
that teachers can structure their classroom environments so that instrumental and
expressive socialization either compete or co-exist. If they compete, the classroom
is likely to be one in which there is considerable tension.
An outstanding school could conceivably have much more of a protective
influence than an ordinary one. There are many studies about the nature of schools
that are particularly effective, including some research on the types of schools in
socially disadvantaged neighborhoods where children learn well (Slavin 1998).
However, most of that research has to do with academic achievement. Little is
known about the schools that are effective in fostering children’s well-being
(Hedges et al. 1994). However, there begins to be a growing interest in
knowing whether schools have an effect on mental health and on social, behavioral,
ethical, and civic attitudes, as they have on students’ academic results (Battistich
et al. 1999).
In fact, although it is surely a more frequent practice to apportion credit or blame
for the way children turn out to their parents, it is by no means uncommon to
attribute students’ successes and failures at least partly to the effects of schools.
Edmonds (1986) suggested that the school environment can be so potent in some
extreme cases that it overrides virtually all other factors in determining at least how
the child behaves at school, if not more generally. Edmonds’ contention contrasts
sharply with other viewpoints according to which the child’s behavior at school
passively mirrors the family environment and surrounding social conditions.
43.2 General and School-Specific Indicators of Well-Being
43.2.1 General Indicators of Well-Being
The first hurdle in understanding how school effects are or can be related to
children’s well-being is to clarify what is meant by well-being. Many researchers
and policy makers have approached their work on well-being in much the same way
as famed trumpeter Louis Armstrong approaches his contributions to jazz
music. When asked by a reporter to define jazz, Armstrong retorted that if you
have to define it, you can never understand it. However, some reviewers of the
burgeoning research literature on children’s well-being have decried that state of
confusion that has emerged from the lack of a clear definition of well-being
common to researchers across the field. Several ideas repeatedly recur in the
various distinctions that have been proposed (Casas 2010b). One is that well-being
is a multidimensional construct, with psychological, physical, and social compo-
nents. Another is that well-being empowers the individual to participate actively
and creatively in activities considered important in a person’s culture. In turn,
well-being is also the positive mental state that emerges from participation in
these activities. Well-being is also understood in terms of the satisfaction of an
individual’s basic physical, psychological, and social needs. Other notions of
well-being focus on self-esteem, purpose in life, and the person’s general feelings
about his or her life circumstances (Weisner 1998). In a review and critique of
definitions of well-being, Pollard and Lee (2003) identified five distinct domains of
well-being based on previous writings: physical, psychological, cognitive, social,
and economic. Researchers have included both positive and negative indicators of
each of these domains.
Looking historically at the attention that has been paid to the well-being of
children, most attention seems to have been paid until recently to material
indicators of the satisfaction of children’s basic needs, starting with the most
basic, survival but also including basic literacy. The adoption of the United
Nations Convention on the Rights of the Child constituted an important turning
point by providing a standard reference point for the study of child and
adolescent well-being. In that document, children’s rights were recognized as
fundamental human rights. Children were thus considered worthy of actually
having rights, which was not universally recognized at that time. Within the
intellectual community, innovative theories about the course of child and
adolescent developed surely helped inspire new perspectives on the nature of
children’s and adolescents’ well-being. These theories included Erikson’s
(1963, 1968) theory of psychosocial development, Bronfenbrenner’s (1979)
ecological systems theory, and the stage-environment fit theory expounded by
Eccles and Midgley (1989). Other contextual factors that spurred interest in
children’s well-being include the emergence of the sociology of childhood,

social capital theory, new methodologies for studying childhood, and emerging
political forces in which the translation of political decisions into practical
interventions have been emphasized.
Casas (2010b) notes that all these points focus on promoting positive life
conditions and on microsocial indicators, in comparison to preventive approaches
and macrosocial indicators, owing to the cultural, spatial, and temporal connota-
tions of the indicators (White 2008). As noted by Casas (2010a), although education
is included in all the systems of well-being indicators that have been proposed, and
that school is the setting where well-being in children and adolescents has
been mostly studied (Huebner 2004), no general consensus has been reached
so far. Nonetheless some of the general trends are (1) there is a significant positive
correlation between satisfaction at school and personal well-being (Huebner
and Gilman 2006), and (2) satisfaction with school and learning decreases
as age increases during the adolescence, more in boys than in girls (Eccles and
Roeser 1999).
Similarly, despite a myriad of results, indicators, and efforts to establish some
system bringing order among them, there is still a lack of theories and models
(Ochaita et al. 2010; Seilstr€ om and Bremberg 2006). Frones (2007) notes that the
next crucial step for the field is to further elaborate theories and models. According
to many, a developmental theory that posits the child’s needs in relation to the
school context should be constructed, explaining what the school context has to
provide to meet these needs (Allardt 1989; Boyce et al. 1998; Eccles and Midgley
1989; Gambone et al. 2002; Ochaita et al. 2010; Pianta 2006).
43.2.2 School-Specific Indicators Highlighted by Self-Determination

Theory
Self-determination theory (SDT) is a general theory of motivation that is useful in

understanding emotion, cognition, and behavior in all spheres of life. SDT advo-
cates contend that self-determined motivation and personality integration, growth,
and well-being are dependent on a healthy balance of three innate psychological
needs (Deci and Ryan 2000; Ryan and Deci 2000). According to SDT, human
beings must maintain a comfortable level of the three basic psychological needs of
autonomy, relatedness, and competence in order to develop and function optimally.
When these needs are sustained to a healthy psychological level, individuals are
intrinsically motivated to engage in discovery activities. The need for autonomy
refers to the experience of choice and volition, to feelings of agency or perception
that one’s actions are chosen and self-endorsed. It suggests that in order to be
driving towards engaging in growth and learning activities one will need to feel that
this is part of his choosing. It is important for individuals to feel that they are the
sole initiators of their activities and that they are active agents in determining how
their lives will unfold. For instance, students may report high levels of autonomy
after having the opportunity to choose the topics for class presentations. Student
may feel more engaged in doing homework if it was them who decided at what time
of the day they feel they would be more productive. A student that feels that he can
freely express his ideas and thoughts will report a high sense of autonomy.
Allowing such flexibility will help sustain students’ motivation by respecting
their important need for voice and autonomy.
A second need put forward by SDT advocates is the need for relatedness. This
refers to the feeling of being grounded in significant relationships, the feeling of
connectedness, belongingness, and warmth with others. The unconditional feeling
of being cared for and valued is essential for individuals to grow, to sustain
integration, and to develop a strong sense of community belonging. For example,
students are likely to feel a sense of relatedness if their teacher exhibits an
empathetic attitude toward them or a concern for their well-being. A teacher or
school principal who comments or shows genuine interest in a child’s behaviors,
family difficulties, taste for certain foods or clothes is promoting a caring and secure
environment, thus enhancing the feeling of being appreciated and of belonging.
Parents who genuinely comfort their children, for example, by taking a child in their
arms, looking into the child’s eyes, and providing them with security, promote
children’s motivation to grow and discover by fulfilling this need for relatedness
and acceptance.
A third need which has been proposed as essential for growth and well-being is
the need for competence. Competence refers to one’s feelings of effectiveness and
environmental mastery. For example, students would typically experience feelings
of competence if they understood difficult material taught in class. Pupils will be
more inclined to make decisions, to move toward growth activities if they feel they
can succeed at them. On the other hand, sending a message doubting the child’s
competence may destroy the intrinsic motivation to grow and instead encourage the
extrinsic motivation to prove one can do it. Although extrinsic motivation may be
necessary and useful at times, intrinsic motivation is seen as optimal in SDT.
Creating situations or finding solutions to help one achieve and discover the inner
resources to achieve may prove to be more fruitful to sustain this important
component. These three natural and basic ingredients work together to create
growth, development, and well-being (Weinstein and Ryan 2010). Need satisfac-
tion is reflected by people’s subjective experience of autonomy, competence, and
relatedness. When studying need satisfaction using this framework, students’ per-
ceptions of need satisfaction are assessed (Grolnick et al. 1991; Guay et al. 2003;
Guay and Vallerand 1997).
Empirical evidence supports the link between three needs and well-being in
general (Weinstein and Ryan 2010) as well as in schools (Ryan and Deci 2009).
More precisely, research in the educational setting has supported the assumption
postulated by SDT that need satisfaction is associated with greater self-determined
motivation and other positive educational outcomes. For example, perceived auton-
omy by students has been linked to students’ self-report of task interest-enjoyment,
and to observers’ ratings of student task engagement and performance (Reeve and
Jang 2006). A study by Ryan et al. (1994) showed that students who experience
relatedness with teachers and parents internalize more forms of school-related
behavioral regulation (e.g., coping, positive affect, engagement, and capacity

beliefs). Results of a study by Furrer and Skinner (2003) revealed an association
between students’ sense of relatedness to key figures and their emotional and
behavioral engagement in school. A study by Véronneau et al. (2005) showed
that all the three needs are related to well-being. Furthermore, the results revealed
that competence emerged as a significant contributor to well-being among the
sample of 12-year-old students.
Other studies have demonstrated that self-determined motivation mediates the
relationship between need satisfaction and educational outcomes. For instance,
research has shown that perceived autonomy and competence are associated with
students’ academic self-determined motivation and in turn with better academic
achievement (Fortier et al. 1995; Guay and Vallerand 1997). Similarly, Ntoumanis
(2005) found that perceived autonomy, competence, and relatedness in school
physical education were associated with greater physical education self-determined
motivation and in turn with greater behavioral engagement.
Self-determined motivation. A healthy balance of the three needs is the precursor
of self-determined motivation. SDT distinguishes among different orientations
towards behavior, focusing on the quality of motivation, which serves as a good
predictor of self-regulation. Activities that are not inherently interesting can nev-
ertheless be regulated autonomously if the individual endorses them or the value
they represent. Deci and Ryan (2000) argue that external regulations are
transformed into internal regulations through a process called internalization.
Internalization is an important adaptive process that allows people to take in
external goals and adopt them as their own. In doing so, individuals endorse the
importance or value of many activities that may not in themselves be intrinsically
motivating but that are necessary for the achievement of personal goals and
well-being. To illustrate and organize the varying degrees of internalization, moti-
vation is defined as a multidimensional construct. Each type of motivation corre-
sponds to a different form of regulation that fits along a self-determination
continuum. The different forms of regulation, in order from the lowest to the
highest in terms of self-determination, are as follows: non-regulation, external
regulation, introjected regulation, identified regulation, integrated regulation, and
intrinsic regulation (Ryan and Deci 2002).
Non-regulation (i.e., amotivation) represents an absence of motivation and is
reflected by a state of apathy, often brought on by an individual’s perceived lack
of contingency between his behavior and a desired outcome. External regulation
represents the second lowest form of motivation. It typically occurs when an
individual is motivated by external sources, either to obtain material or social
rewards, or to avoid punishment. Often, in this situation, involvement in an
activity, for reasons such as the outcome or the reward, will be short-lived,
perhaps remaining just as long as the reward is available. Thus, creating
a reading program where the focus is on a prize delivered after ten books are
read by pupils may overly emphasize this type of orientation. The pupils will
focus their attention on the outcome and will most likely ignore the importance
of enjoying their book.
Along the continuum, the first internally driven form of regulation is introjec-
tion. Despite its internalization, introjected regulation is still considered to be
a relatively controlled form of regulation because it is characterized by self-
pressures, such as avoiding feelings of guilt or pursuing feelings of pride. In this
particular case, the energy stems from an internal pressure representative of behav-
iors instilled by one’s environment and by significant others. In such cases, pupils
engage in behaviors and activities because they feel they have to and because they
want to avoid feeling guilty. Behaviors emerging from this kind of energy lead to
negative affect and poor growth; thus, this form of motivation does not contribute to
well-being.
Amotivation, external regulation, and introjected regulation are further qualified
as non-self-determined motivation. Non-self-determined types of motivation have
been associated with negative emotions, cognitions, and behaviors.
The next two forms of extrinsic regulation on the continuum are considered to be
self-determined because they are more internalized and are experienced as more
autonomous. With identified regulation, activities are perceived as valued and as
chosen by the individual because engagement in these activities facilitates achieve-
ment of personally meaningful goals. An activity is fully endorsed by the self when
it is in line with other goals and values within the individual. Identified regulation
involves a conscious valuing of a behavioral goal or regulation, an acceptance of
the behavior as personally important. However, SDT suggests that some identifi-
cations can be relatively compartmentalized or separated from one’s other beliefs
and values, in which case they may not reflect the person’s overarching values in
a given situation. Integrated regulation results when identifications have been
evaluated and brought into congruence with personality endorsed values, goals,
and needs that are already part of the self; nonetheless, although behaviors
governed by integrated regulations are performed volitionally, they are still con-
sidered extrinsic because they are done to attain personally important outcomes
rather than for their inherent interest and enjoyment.
The last form of regulation on the continuum is intrinsic regulation. This type of
regulation is evidenced when people choose to engage in activities that provide
them with feelings of great pleasure and satisfaction. No incentive is necessary to
engage in the intrinsically motivated activity, as the activity provides enjoyment in
and of itself.
In summary, the self-determination continuum, which differentiates among the
six forms of self-regulation, represents the different reasons that motivate people to
engage in various activities. Although intrinsic regulation represents the hallmark
of autonomous functioning, two forms of extrinsic regulation, namely identified
and integrated, are also considered to be self-determined because they are internal-
ized in the individual’s sense of self and are perceived to be more autonomous (i.e.,
less controlling) than their less self-determined counterparts.
Empirical validation of SDT. Past research has consistently demonstrated that
compared to less self-determined motivation, self-determined motivation is associated
with various positive consequences such as greater deep-level learning (Andriessen
et al. 2006; Simons et al. 2004), better performance (Simons et al. 2004),
more interest/enjoyment (Black and Deci 2000; Simons et al. 2004), greater creativity
(Amabile 1983), greater positive affect and effort in the classroom (Reeve et al. 2002;
Vallerand 1997), less anxiety (Black and Deci 2000; Ryan and Connell 1989), and
lower probability of dropping out of a class or school (Black and Deci 2000;
Vallerand et al. 1997). Overall, findings show that academic self-determined moti-
vation is associated with school engagement, as well as with favorable cognitive and
affective learning experiences.
Over the years, research conducted on the dynamic function of the needs and on
the consequences associated with each subtype of regulation has been and con-
tinues to be applied to diverse fields, including education. More precisely, past
research and recent work grounded in self-determination are beneficial for the field
of education. Additionally, theoretical concepts have developed and branched out
to provide a more comprehensive view of intrapersonal, interpersonal, and more
general contextual factors influencing motivation and well-being in general and in
school. In the next section, each of these will be introduced briefly.
Authenticity, mindfulness, and intrinsic aspirations. SDT and extensions to it
have salutary applications relevant to human development. These can be organized
around the concepts of authenticity, mindfulness, and intrinsic aspirations. Princi-
ples of authenticity have been explored extensively within self-determination
(Kernis 2003; Kernis and Goldman 2006). Authenticity has been defined as “the
unobstructed operation of one’s true core self in one’s daily enterprise” (Kernis
2003, p. 13). The concept is further decomposed into four components, namely,
awareness, unbiased processing of information related to the self, behavior that is
true to the self, and genuine relational orientation (see Kernis and Goldman 2006
for definition). It is suggested that striving for authenticity will favor internal-
ization and integration of external factors. As well, authenticity is a precursor of
mindfulness. It implies being highly aware of one’s action and feelings without
being ego-involved (Brown and Kasser 2004). It is the ability to attend to
stimuli without embellishing them. The more one is focused on being connected
to a true core self, the more he or she will develop the ability to attend to self-
related stimuli and to process them truly. Furthermore, a mindful individual
will be apt to chose and make decisions based on the needs and aspirations of
a true self. Two types of aspirations have been proposed, notably, extrinsic and
intrinsic aspirations (Kasser 2002). Extrinsic aspirations refer to strivings for
fame and materialistic goods. Intrinsic aspirations refer to acceptance of the
self, positive relationships with other, and a strong sense of connection with
one’s community. It has been shown that focusing on intrinsic aspirations is
much more beneficial than aiming for extrinsic aspirations (see Kasser and Ryan
1993, 1996). Intrinsic aspirations are associated with psychological well-being
whereas the opposite is true for extrinsic aspirations. These results have recently
been supported in the education domain (Kasser and Ahuvia 2002; Henderson-
King and Mitchell 2011). With regard to these intrapersonal concepts, more
should be done to provide young people with the skills necessary to strive for
more authenticity, for mindfulness, and for intrinsic aspirations. Mentoring
pupils and students is key to helping them develop such an orientation.
Thus, the work emerging from SDT is useful in better understanding how
individuals can achieve greater grounding and become increasingly more
responsible for their own development, growth, and well-being. SDT and
cognitive evaluation theory have led to profitable research pertaining to how
close others can impact the development of such an orientation. Several prac-
tical ways of achieving this are presented below.
Interpersonal style, teaching philosophy, and their role in growth and
well-being. A subtheory of SDT, namely cognitive evaluation theory (CET), has
promulgated research pinpointing interpersonal factors that may either undermine
this naturally occurring phenomenon or positively impact it. Ideally, parents and
teachers should focus on sustaining self-determination and support internalization.
CET suggests that some climates and some interpersonal styles and approaches
sustain self-determination by respecting pupils’ psychological needs. Other
approaches, like a controlling one, will be detrimental. Indeed, a controlling inter-
personal style will impoverish a subordinate’s motivation (Blanchard et al. 2009;
Roth et al. 2009; Reeve 2009) In a similar way, a competitive climate in the
classroom will lessen the feeling of competence (Reeve and Deci 1996), thus
undermining motivation and well-being in the classroom. For this reason, many
SDT advocates decry the negative impact of high school on motivation and on the
development of the integrated self. On the basis of research revealing a decline in
motivation when students enter high school, SDT advocates advise against large
classes and multiple teachers for each class or pupil (Linnenbrink-Garcia and
Fredricks 2008).
Parenting practices may also affect well-being of students and pupils by helping
or hindering the satisfaction of the basic needs outlined above and by promoting or
squelching intrinsic motivation. For example, a controlling parental style, through
the use of discipline, reward systems, and feedback, may have detrimental effect on
the basic psychological needs (Farkas and Grolnick 2010; Grolnick and Pomerantz
2009). Research has repeatedly demonstrated that an autonomy-supportive
approach and an environment providing structure will allow for growth, develop-
ment, and well-being (Deci and Ryan 2011).
Reeves and others have delineated the core principles needed by schools to apply
the self-determination principles (Reeve 2006, 2009; Reeve and Halusic 2009; Su
and Reeve 2011). A healthy balance of all three needs will substantiate growth and
well-being. Since individuals are naturally inclined to move towards growth (Knee
and Uysal 2011), parents and teachers should be open-minded and aware of the
existence of such needs in order to sustain self-determination and support
internalization.
Self-determination theory in regard to school climate and the purposes of
schools. In order for one to develop and experience well-being, pupils and students
need to experience autonomy, relatedness, and competence at a more general level.
School culture and climate are key contributors to health and well-being in children
(Linnenbrink-Garcia and Fredricks 2008; Reeve and Assor 2011). The school
principal and the community in general have an important role to play in commu-
nicating school values, community values, and societal values. It is important to
develop and maintain a vision focusing on long-term development, instead of short-

term performance goals, and to then find the right tools to communicate such
a vision. The sense of community that is developed reinforces the sense of belong-
ing. Members of such communities, and especially pupil members, can then trust
and aspire to become highly functional autonomous individuals. Within this con-
text, autonomous individuals experience rich interpersonal relationships. In turn,
they develop the ability to contribute and to give back to the community and society
at large.
As it is at present, the school system seems to be supporting two different
visions, one proclaiming good societal values and another focusing on academic
achievement and performance. According to many critics, mass testing is
overemphasized and creates a competitive and performance-oriented climate.
This runs against the basic principles of SDT. Therefore, SDT advocates are
making it their responsibility to inform policy makers of the detrimental impact
of mass testing in schools (Ryan and Brown 2005). Advocates believe that reflec-
tion on the needs and the development of the young members of society is necessary
to better prepare them to take on societal responsibilities and make important life
and societal decisions.
In summary, SDT can be translated into practice by ensuring that everyday
interactions are umbrella-led by a long-term approach to student and children
development. Mainly focusing on achievements and performance will lead
a student to perform but not necessarily to develop and fulfill all his/her potential.
Detecting and praising effort will do a world of good to develop initiative and
a feeling of internal control. Using structure and an approach supportive of auton-
omy will surely contribute to the development of children and youth as they become
members of psychologically healthy communities.
43.2.3 Indicators Based on School Facilitation of Rewarding

Interpersonal Relationships
As mentioned in the previous section, the needs for connectedness and participation
in interpersonal relationships are considered as fundamental and universal in SDT.
There is growing evidence that peer processes are involved in the children’s
academic performance, their motivations and attitudes toward school, as well as
in their self-perceptions and psychological well-being (Ryan 2000). This section
provides an overview of the role of the school in fostering satisfying, positive
relationships among its pupils.
In a cross-national study on the well-being of adolescents in the 27 countries that
are members of the Organization for Economic Co-operation and Development
(OCDE), Bradshaw and Richardson (2009) found that cross-culturally perceptions
of global well-being are highly correlated with satisfaction with relations with one’s
peers. In a recent study of Spanish schoolchildren between 7 and 16 years old, the
participants mentioned that being with their friends was their favorite activity
(Casas 2010b). Monjas et al. (2008) found that 10- and 11-year-old Spanish
students mentioned that the main reasons why they choose a peer as a friend are
because he/she is friendly, kind, funny, both experience a mutual satisfaction, and
relevant features of friendship are present in the relationship (trust, loyalty, support,
help). Similarly, in a recent study of Finnish students at the end of their formal
school experience, the participants were asked to identify the incidents during their
entire school experiences that they considered crucial. The common theme among
these incidents, whether they were salient because of the happy feelings they
evoked or the hardship that ensued, was their interpersonal content (Pyh€atl€o et al.
2010). This will not surprise many keen observers of the school environment. At
first glance, huge chunks of the school day appear to be devoted to academic lessons
during which social interactions among the pupils are often not contemplated. This
is far from true, even in secondary (high) schools. In their ethnographic exploration
of two Canadian secondary schools, Isherwood and Ahola (1981) discovered
almost constant communication among the pupils, including opportunities to
form friendships and to determine and implement social acceptance and rejection.
Thus, they seem to be manifesting the need for interpersonal relationships that is
considered in SDT a fundamental human need.
The importance of such peer relationships for well-being in life has been
explored, although much more research has been conducted with regard to obsta-
cles to well-being than to peer relations as direct facilitators of well-being. By far,
most of the attention in longitudinal studies of peer relations has been devoted to the
long-term consequences of being disliked, aggressive, or withdrawn in large
groups, such as classrooms or schools. However, it has been argued that this
emphasis on rejection by the peer group as a whole obscures a potentially vital
link between early peer relations and later adjustment that occurs because of the
benefits of having even a single close friend (e.g., Furman and Robbins 1985).
Nowhere are the advantages of friendship assigned as much weight as in the
influential theories of the American psychiatrist Harry Stack Sullivan (1953).
Sullivan was born in the small agricultural town of Norwich, New York in 1892.
Appalled by the “waste of human abilities” (Perry 1982, p. 5) that he observed in his
work as a psychiatrist, a researcher, and a consultant for Selective (conscription)
Service during World War II, Sullivan became determined to increase the available
base of knowledge about raising children. He developed an interpersonal theory of
development in which friendships play a key role. Sullivan posited that friendships
are necessary because they satisfy the human need for interpersonal intimacy and
they help develop vital social skills and competencies (Newcomb and Bagwell
1996). More specifically, Sullivan proposed that the formation of close, one-on-one
relationships during pre-adolescence is crucial to the acquisition of these social
competencies (Kerns 1996). These relationships, called “chumships,” prevent lone-
liness and enhance children’s sense of self-worth. Their relationships with their
chums provide children with a means to develop sensitivity to others’ problems and
perspectives of mutuality in their interpersonal relations. This relational base is
reflected in intimate heterosexual relationships later on.
Popularity and friendship may contribute in different ways to children’s well-
being, although children who are generally popular with peers also have a greater
likelihood than others of cultivating close friendships. There are convincing reasons
why close friendships might have particular implications for coping with life’s
challenges. A relationship with a close friend is characterized by intimacy, unlike
children’s more superficial relations with the classmates who might regard one as
popular. Learning how to form and manage close, intimate relationships may lead
to having a close friend to serve as confidant during moments of stress and to having
someone who would provide considerable time and practical help when needed the
most. Participation in a close friendship is also thought to foster flexible thinking in
many ways; flexible thinking is known to relate to successful coping with stress
(Cantor and Harlow 1994). One of the modes of flexible thinking that is associated
with adaptation in the face of adversity is the ability to understand how other people
think about things and appreciate that they may have views about a specific
situation that are quite different from one’s own (for a detailed exposition of how
this might occur, see Selman et al. 1997). It has been emphasized that friends not
only gain more knowledge about interpersonal relationships from their friendships
than from their contacts with acquaintances, but that one gains in friendship
qualitatively different knowledge about relationships, knowledge, and skills that
are particular to close, supportive bonds (Barr 1997). In contrast, having no friends
at school leads to disengagement and alienation, which may in turn precipitate
school dropout (Kagan 1990).
Despite the widespread interest in Sullivan’s theory, there is much less longitu-
dinal research documenting the long-term implications of friendship during the
childhood years specifically than there is with regard to acceptance or rejection by
peers in large groups; this limited literature is summarized by Bagwell and Schmidt
(2011), by Hartup and Stevens (1997), and by Berndt (1999). Indeed, Sullivan
emphasized chumship at the very beginning of adolescence; perhaps for that reason,
more longitudinal research documenting the benefits of friendship has followed
individuals from adolescence into early adulthood. Most of the longitudinal studies
conducted with children involve follow-ups for relatively short periods of time,
typically less than 2 years. The range of outcome measures of adjustment is also
limited, with more data available about the implications of friendship for adjust-
ment to school than with regard to any other aspect of well-being.
Nevertheless, it is important to note that, in the few specific studies that have
been conducted on the issue, friendship is strongly correlated with happiness among
children and adolescents. This has been found especially in studies conducted in the
UK by researchers inspired by Michael Argyle’s theories about human adolescence
(Argyle 1987; Cheng and Furnham 2002). Interestingly, it has been found that the
children of parents who themselves have wide networks of friends are happier than
other children. Among the many possible ways that might account for this is the
possibility that the parents model for their children the abilities needed to make and
keep friends (Homel et al. 1987).
It is sometimes thought that the support of friends is inconsequential in cultures
characterized by strong family bonds and a collectivistic value orientation. How-
ever, indications of this have been found in only a minority of published studies. For
example, in their comparisons of the friendships of children and youth in the USA
and Indonesia, French et al. (2005) found that the typical friendships of the
Indonesian participants were not as intimate or close as those of the US sample.
However, most studies of friendship in collectivistic societies indicate the opposite,
including studies of children and youth in Japan (Dekovic et al. 2002; Schneider
et al. 2011) and Cuba (Schneider et al. 2011). Schneider et al. (2011) observed that
in highly collectivistic societies, close friends may have a specific role in promoting
well-being. Friends may provide relief from the intense pressures to confirm and, in
both Japan and Cuba, the pressures to succeed at school. Thus, the rich family life of
many collectivistic, family-oriented societies may not compete at all with the
richness of interactions with friends; in fact, learning how to relate harmoniously
with family members may prepare the child for the challenges of initiating and
maintaining close friendship.
Several excellent studies have been conducted to gauge the importance of
friendship in the transition to a new school, either at the beginning of primary
school at age 5 or 6 years (e.g., Ladd et al. 1996), or between primary and middle
school, at about age 12 years (e.g., Berndt and Keefe 1995). In general, the
supportiveness or closeness of friends seems to facilitate successful adaptation to
the new school, whereas “head counts” of the number of friends one has, regardless
of how close they are as friends or how positive they are as models of behavior,
seem to be unrelated to adjustment. Schneider et al. (2008) found that social support
from close friends was an important predictor of successful transition to middle
school in Italy, where there is a very drastic transition from highly child-centered
elementary school to a very traditional middle-school curriculum focused primarily
on the mastery of academic subjects. In a Canadian study conducted with partici-
pants about the same age, Oberle et al. (2011) also found that positive peer relation-
ships were correlated significantly with life satisfaction.
As it has been described by Gifford-Smith and Brownell (2003), peer relation-
ships are influenced by the values and discipline policies of schools, the emphasis
on promoting positive social relationships and preventing bullying both inside and
outside the classroom, and the teachers’ ability and knowledge about how to
promote a proper adjustment between peers. On the other hand, what happens in
the school and in the classrooms is affected by current and past peer relationships.
For instance, the number and type of peer groups in a high school may affect the
nature of the curriculum actually taught, the discipline policy, and the school
climate (Gambone et al. 2002). Negotiations among adolescents about their mem-
bership of a clique and conflicts among members are a major source of school
discipline referrals and the principal target of the bullying prevention strategies and
classroom/class management. Peers are the most powerful influence on daily
behaviors in the school, time spent on homework, and sense of fun in school
(Steinberg and Brown 1989).
Peers influence each other and, thus, may inculcate positive or negative values about
schools and schooling or may cross-fertilize alienation from the educational enterprise.
Academically successful students and students who hold high expectations for them-
selves tend to affiliate with peers who are highly motivated academically,
value good grades, and are similarly involved in academics (Berndt and Keefe 1995;
Kiuru et al. 2007; Ryan 2001). Adolescents with high-achieving friends show improve-
ment in their own academic achievement over time and increased involvement in
school (e.g., Wentzel et al. 2004). In addition, friends’ academic competence and
support have been shown to be associated with students’ own academic competence
(Bissel-Havran and Loken 2009). On the other hand, it is very possible for conflicts
among peers to become manifest in disciplinary encounters at school (Steinberg and
Brown 1989).
One of the major functions of friends and other peers is the provision of social
support. According to a meta-analysis by Chu et al. (2010), which encompassed
247 original studies, social support among children and adolescents is correlated
significantly with their well-being. This may occur because social support promotes
positive self-esteem, which in turn leads to perceptions of well-being. Social
support by peers and involvement in close friendship may indirectly promote
well-being by mitigating the negative effects of impediments to well-being. The
protective effects of friendship against bullying have been the most widely studied.
Having a good friend at school directly reduces the likelihood of being bullied. This
may occur because the potential bully refrains from attacking peers who may
subsequently be protected by their friends (Hodges et al. 1999). Furthermore,
even if having a friend does not totally eliminate the risk of being bullied, the
support of friends and others may reduce the psychological consequences of being
bullied. For example, in a large-scale (n ¼ 4,331) study of life satisfaction among
primary and middle-school pupils, Flaspohler et al. (2009) found that being
bullied constituted, not surprisingly, a major impediment to life satisfaction.
However, their mediational analysis revealed that, among students who were
bullied, those who experienced positive support from peers and teachers were
more satisfied with life.
In a creative and informative case study of 11 Australian schools noted for low
incidences of bullying, McGrath and Noble (2010) found that one of the
distinguishing features of those schools was a “relationship culture” in which the
development of positive peer relationships was emphasized. Other features were
a high priority placed on pupil well-being, effective leadership by the school
administration, and effective management of pupil behavior.
43.2.4 Direct Facilitation of Interpersonal Relationships at School
Given the importance of positive peer relationships and the undeniable fact that
such relationships are, to a considerable degree, nurtured at school, we now turn to
the ways in which schools can help facilitate children’s peer relations. We begin
with direct instruction or social skills training. However, it is important not to
overlook the many indirect ways in which schools can help or hinder the relation-
ships of their pupils; these pathways are considered in the next section.
E. Lakin Phillips (1978) articulated perhaps the most eloquent theory-grounded
proposal for a social competence curriculum. He called on schools to help children
build some degree of tolerance for adverseness and annoyances, but also learn to
solve the interpersonal differences which will inevitably arise. Such a curriculum
should feature a realistic sequence of clearly stated goals with the development of
competence in the long term, not just the resolution of immediate classroom issues.
According to Phillips, the curriculum should strive to reduce hostility toward others
and impulsive reacting. It should emphasize ethical obligations towards other
people. Phillips insisted that in a situation of person–environment conflict, it is
easier to change the individual than to change the environment. It is important to
note that many critics would disagree with that contention.
A variety of methods are used to facilitate peer relationships in schools. In a one-
on-one coaching procedure, the “coach” provides ideas or concepts about social
interaction, asks the child to generate specific behavioral examples of each, and
encourages the child to use the concepts and monitor his/her own behavior (Asher
1985). Modeling approaches feature either filmed (Schneider and Byrne 1987) or
role-play (Goldstein and Glick 1987) models of skillful behaviors. Systematic
training in solving social problems is often found more suitable for whole-class
instruction on a preventive basis. In a typical problem-solving intervention, chil-
dren learn to identify the problem they are facing, consider different ways that they
could respond to it, and decide which of the ways is likely to lead to the best
outcome. They may also plan how to implement the solution, practicing it via role-
play with feedback from the teacher or group leader. Recent innovations include the
delivery of social skills training of several types by computer (Bosworth et al.
1998). Panacea this is not: getting the children to properly attend to the skills taught
online and actually use them offline is a formidable obstacle (Doo 2006).
Adalbjarnardottir (1991) conducted a particularly interesting intervention
designed to enhance children’s ability to negotiate with classmates and teachers.
Eight Icelandic primary school classes were randomly assigned to either treatment
or control conditions. The intervention consisted of focused training in solving
interpersonal conflicts, and was administered to four classes as a whole.
A semi-structured interview was conducted at the beginning of the school year
and repeated at the end. The children’s interpersonal negotiation style was also
observed directly in the classroom. Their interactions were rated, first of all, as
either submissive or assertive. They were also coded according to the degree to
which the actions reflected a sophisticated understanding of other persons’ per-
spectives regarding the situation observed. Subjects who had received the interven-
tion developed more mature negotiation strategies over the school year according to
both the interviews and observations. It is interesting to note that the observational
data indicate improvement for situations involving classmates but not teachers,
suggesting that youngsters may have more difficulty understanding the perspectives
and needs of adults even after intervention. Adalbjarnardottir’s study is of particular
value because its outcome measures, which included both an interview and direct
observations, were devised to assess very directly the specific outcome targeted by
the intervention.
How effective is this direct approach to facilitation of peer relations among
schoolchildren? Three meta-analyses indicate some degree of success, meaning that
social skills training is worth doing even if its effectiveness is not without limits.
The major problem is achieving generalization and maintenance – getting the

children to use the skills they have learned (as they usually do) in situations other
than the one in which the instruction occurred (Erwin 1994; Beelman et al. 1994;
Schneider 1992). Importantly, these meta-analyses focused on the effects of social
skills training on different forms of maladjustment, such as aggression and social
withdrawal or shyness. Little research attention has been paid to the possible
benefits of social skills training for the well-being of children and adolescents
who display no marked signs of maladjustment. In an interesting recent innovation,
Ruini et al. (2009) introduced a more positively valenced classroom-wide interven-
tion focusing on the expression of emotion and on positive, friendly peer interac-
tions. Their preliminary intervention was found to be effective in increasing pupils’
scores on self-report questionnaires of well-being.
Unfortunately, though, few interventions have been planned to take into account
the interaction of the intervention content with the classroom or school ecology.
Should we expect a lesson on cooperation to have any substantial bearing on
behavior in a classroom with a highly competitive goal structure? If effective
problem solving is taught as an isolated instructional unit, but infractions are
handled in an impulsive, angry fashion, is there any benefit derived from the
abstract tutelage on how to deal with irritants? The following sections suggest
aspects of the whole-school environment that can affect peer relationships and pupil
well-being.
43.2.5 School and Family Influences, in Concert or in Opposition
Researchers have invested heavily in comparing the value of social support from
parents and from peers, although as it will be discussed shortly, having supportive
parents does not usually mean having unsupportive peers and vice versa.
Indeed, DeSanctis King and colleagues (2006), in a study conducted with American
pupils 11–19 years old, found that school satisfaction correlated positively with
support received from the family. In any case, support from peers and parents may
have different functions. Children and, especially, adolescents, may be more
comfortable discussing with peers than with parents any problems that arise in
their interactions with peers. They may also be happier with the responses given by
their peers (e.g., Hoffman et al. 1988).
Epstein (1983) contended that until the early nineteenth century, the goals and
practices of families usually matched the goals and practices of schools, with clergy
often delivering prescriptions for both. However, mismatch between home and
school environments is much more possible nowadays. The transition from home
to school (or preschool) environments often brings children from family settings
which vary considerably to educational settings that tend to be much more uniform.
Although parents may cultivate, or at least tolerate, a wide range of social behavior
in children, formal education traditionally requires far more circumscribed patterns
of social interaction. Where the social norms of the school differ markedly
from those of the home, children are thought to have particular difficulty
becoming competent at social interaction in the classroom (Flourio-Ruane 1989;

Hansen 1986; Weinstein 1991). Nevertheless, the consequences of this mismatch in
interaction rules seem more serious in classrooms where there is less flexibility
in permissible behavior and where behavioral rules are more strictly enforced
(Hansen 1986).
In most cases, children’s behavior at school is probably quite similar to their
behavior at home. This was confirmed, for example, by Hinde et al. (1985) who
compared observations of children’s behavior at preschool with parents’ reports of
behavior at home. Despite their findings, it should not be inferred conclusively that
schools and families influence exactly the same aspects of well-being and personal/
social competence. There has been some suggestion that schools may influence
more extensively the practical aspects of getting along with others whereas families
may influence children’s values (Klindova 1985). Siblings may emerge as impor-
tant socializing agents whose influences may reinforce, complement, or contradict
those of parents (Berndt and Bulleit 1985).
In most studies that have explored both school and family influences, family
variables tend to explain statistically a greater portion of the variance than school
variables (Good and Brophy 1986). Good and Brophy pointed out that this may be
because of restricted range. In most Western countries, there are undeniable
differences among schools but there is also a high degree of similarity among
them in terms of general organization and the content of instruction. This may not
necessarily be true in all societies. Heyneman and Loxley’s (1983) review indicates
that school and teacher characteristics play a far greater role in developing societies.
It is also possible that some types of support from teachers may be particularly
important to immigrant children and youth in multicultural schools in Western
countries. This may be because the parents of immigrant children may not have
sufficient familiarity with the host culture to help the immigrant children in their
navigation of the countries to which they have immigrated (Vedder et al. 2005).
A positive school environment may serve as a buffer for a child undergoing family
stress but it would be highly naı̈ve to expect good schools to cancel out the effects of
negative homes (Eccles et al. 2008). Peres and Pasternack (1991) studied the adjust-
ment of 314 Israeli primary school children whose parents were divorced. In the six
schools studied that were conventional in terms of their organization, climates, and
routines, the children from divorced families displayed problems in relating to their
peers. This effect was totally absent in an experimental school where children
participated more extensively in decisions about what they would do at school and
stayed at school for a much longer school day. Of course, Peres and Pasternack’s
findings are only suggestive and cannot be interpreted as indicating causation.
The family–school relationships are a relevant indicator of children’s academic
success and their general well-being, as well as an important factor in the protection
of children and the prevention of child maltreatment (Melton et al. 2000), especially
for children at risk (Christenson and Sheridan 2001). Having a strong connection
between families and schools would directly increase children’s benefits and create
stronger communities, resulting in a significant rise in children’s well-being
(Ben-Arieh et al. 2009; Henderson and Mapp 2002).
Concrete steps can be taken to improve the coordination of positive home

and school influences (Forest and Garcı́a Bacete 2006; Garcı́a Bacete and Traver
2010; Hoover-Dempsey et al. 2005). Many theorists emphasize the role of family
involvement in the school (Bronfenbrenner 1979; Christenson 2004; Clarke et al.
2010; Epstein 1997; Garcı́a Bacete 1998; Marjoribanks 2004), although research
evidence of this remains sparse (Alvarez-Valdivia et al. 2012; Booth and Dunn
1996; Jowett et al. 1991; Rutter and Maughan 2002) and furthermore perceptions of
parents, teachers, and students differ from each other (Ben-Arieh et al. 2009; Garcı́a
Bacete 2003, 2006).
43.3 Modalities of School Influence
Schools are multilayered, multidimensional, and dynamic entities (Boyce et al.

1998; Pianta 2006; Roeser 1998). Therefore, their potential influences occur at
many different levels.
43.3.1 School Climate: What Kind of Beast?
Anderson (1982) clarified the concept of school climate by recalling Halpin and
Croft’s analogy that “climate” is to an organization what “personality” is to an
individual, as well as Nwankwo’s definition of school climate as the general
“we-feeling” or group subculture of the school. Anderson evoked the metaphors
of several types of beast in portraying the variations in attitude towards the concept
of school climate. The albatross regards school climate as something which can be
defined and which has an impact on children, but does not consider school climate
a worthwhile focus of enquiry because it is not amenable to manipulation. Another
group of critics takes on many characteristics of the unicorn – the study of school
climate is seen as desirable in theory, but not likely to be successful, like a beautiful
beast which can never be found. Such pessimism about being able to measure and
study school climate is partly based on the observation that the climate of each
classroom within a school may be very different, precluding any meaningful
generalization about the overall “we-feeling” of the organization. Making matters
worse, any measurement of school characteristics will be hopelessly confounded by
individual student characteristics.
As researchers overcome the shortcomings of earlier efforts, the image of
a phoenix has become more prevalent. Earlier studies often used measures that
were convenient but grossly inadequate, and looked at a few isolated aspects of
school functioning, leading to few findings of significance (Brookover et al. 1979).
Their contemporary counterparts have adopted more comprehensive depictions of
the workings of schools, yielding more encouraging indicators that schools do
indeed make a difference.
Conceptual models developed by Tagiuri (1968) and Moos (1979) have been
influential in developing a vocabulary for describing school climate. There are
several salient dimensions useful in delineating the climate or atmosphere of

a school or organization. The first dimension is the physical ecology of the school,
its building, furniture, maintenance, lighting, equipment, utilization of space,
etc. The social system or social structure refers to the implicit or explicit patterns
or rules of social interaction in the school. The term school culture is used in this
literature to refer to the beliefs or values of the individuals involved. In all major
studies, these variables are studied in light of intake or milieu variables, i.e., the
socioeconomic and educational background of the pupils and staff. Theoretical
models differ as to whether these variables operate in a simple additive fashion or
whether they interact to influence the outcomes of schooling. Anderson (1982) also
described a useful mediated model. The first is a direct input–output pathway:
intake or background characteristics have a major and direct impact on the depen-
dent variable. In the two other pathways of influence, these background variables
affect the social structure and culture of a school, which in turn affect the student
outcome.
43.3.2 School Climate and Safety
One important aspect of school climate is the real and perceived safety of the
school. Gershoff and Aber (2006) found that 6% of students reported having
sometimes or always fears about their safety at school. School violence is associ-
ated with anxiety, depression, general trauma, violent behavior, fear, avoidance,
and school dropout (Addington et al. 2002). Students who reported that their school
was dangerous had a lower sense of school efficacy (Bowen et al. 1998). Being
worried about their own safety may affect the disposition, availability, and moti-
vation in learning (Eccles and Roeser 2009).
Proponents of whole-school anti-bullying approaches often focus on the school’s
disciplinary standards. However, it has been found that many aspects of school
climate, including positive pupil–teacher relations, are linked with safety, danger,
and rates of bullying (Gregory et al. 2010; Richard et al., 2012). Eccles and Roeser
(2009) found that most of the acts of violence took place in what they
called “undefined public spaces,” non-instructional spaces in which students
move before and after school and between classes (parking, hall, restrooms, playing
field, cafeteria, etc.). Bullying, an obvious threat to well-being, is known to occur
when there are spaces in the school that are little or not at all supervised by adults
(Astor 1998).
43.3.3 Physical Ecology of the School
Arrangement of space. Psychologists have long been aware that the physical
arrangement of a school or workplace influences the nature and extent of the social
interaction that occurs within (Getzels 1975; Lewin et al. 1939; Moreno 1953).
Lewin et al. (1939) conducted a series of “group climate” studies, in which physical
ecology was an important element. They introduced the metaphor of a “circular

classroom” – as opposed to the traditional “square” or rectangular arrangement of
pupils in rows – as a way of encouraging everyone to face each other and interact
more cooperatively. Lewin’s theories of context were quite complex (Lewin 1954),
emphasizing the interaction of an individual’s personal characteristics, personal
characteristics of peers, and characteristics of the physical setting. More recently,
Charlebois et al. (1992) studied the seating arrangements of Montreal primary-
school classrooms over a 3-year period. They found that boys identified as socially
at-risk were almost always seated either at the very front or very rear of the
classroom. When the same subjects were located in classrooms 2 years later,
a striking 84% were assigned seats in the same zones. Unfortunately, a high
proportion of teacher attention and feedback was directed at the middle rows.
This study illustrates the importance of considering the interaction of physical
ecology and subject characteristics.
Prohansky (1974) noted that if, as part of the socialization process, the child
internalizes representations of significant others, of the roles he must play in groups,
and of unique interpersonal experiences he/she has encountered, there must also be
some internalization of the places which help define socialization behaviors. Inter-
actions with the physical setting in which satisfactions and frustrations occur and in
which feelings of competence or incompetence are nurtured must be salient features
of the individual’s experience of important life events. Prohansky argued that if
individuals express their identities in the ways they structure, decorate, and main-
tain important physical settings, the converse must he true: the contexts which have
helped define an individual’s development must be expressed in the structure of that
person’s identity.
Lewin’s context theory, mentioned above, emphasized the effects of the
arrangement of the learning setting as well as the interaction between the arrange-
ment of space and individual characteristics. Optimal organization of physical
space has received considerable attention, culminating in a debate between open
and closed-space classrooms. In contrast, there has been relatively little system-
atic study of the interface of space arrangements context and individual differ-
ences among pupils (Bronfenbrenner and Crouter 1983; Legendre 1989). The
technique of behavioral mapping (Ittelson et al. 1970) has greatly facilitated the
study of links between arrangement of space and social interaction among its
occupants. Berg et al. (2011) conducted an experimental manipulation to deter-
mine the effect of distance between classmates on peer affiliations and classroom
climate in 27 fifth- and sixth-grade classrooms. In the experimental condition,
children who did not like each other were placed closer together for several weeks
in order to promote more positive peer relations. The decrease in distance led to
higher likeability ratings for children who were perceived most negatively at the
beginning of the school year. In addition, a reduction in peer-reported victimiza-
tion and social withdrawal nominations was found. The results suggest that the
classroom seating arrangement can be used as a tool to improve liking among
peers and reduce peer-reported problem behaviors in the classroom, thus increas-
ing children’s well-being.
In some countries, schools in disadvantaged neighborhoods may have relatively

bare, poorly equipped outdoor playgrounds. Parents and teachers may hope that the
provision of play structures and gymnastic equipment will help correct problematic
social interactions in these schools. However, this is not supported by the limited
data available (Johnson 1935; Weinstein and Pinciotti 1988).
Play and classroom settings may be divided into separate compartments or
feature no visual boundaries. Manetti and Campart (1987, 1989) conducted an
experimental study of the use of space during indoor play by preschoolers in
a disadvantaged area of central Genoa. The furniture was rearranged in order to
physically divide the classroom into four sectors; storage shelves were used as
dividers. This division resulted in a dramatic increase in social interaction. This
may be because of the greater provision for privacy or because the monolithic and
relatively barren open space was converted into more useable play areas.
Pellegrini and Perlmutter (1989) conducted a multidimensional observational
study in order to determine whether certain types of play occur more frequently in
certain areas of the preschool classroom. In general, the type of play props provided
influenced the social level of play. The presence of both adults and peers also
affected play patterns. Droege and Howes (1991) conducted an observational study
with California preschoolers to determine whether social pretend play occurs in
certain areas of the daycare center. Droege and Howes suggested that planners of
daycare environments provide for children’s apparent needs for a physical setting in
which this type of play seems likely to occur.
Other data strongly suggest that young children’s use of space depends heavily
on certain individual child characteristics, including social competence, as well as
the simultaneous use of space by the teacher or caregiver (Legendre 1989).
Legendre (1987) found that in preschools where there were many visual bound-
aries, children generally spent more time in close proximity to adults. Children who
were socially competent exhibited greater security in venturing more frequently to
areas separated by visual boundaries from the adult caregiver. Nevertheless, there
was relatively little dyadic interactive play in parts of the room without visual
contact with the caregiver. Presumably, the absence of visual obstacles would
permit children to play in all areas without sacrificing proximity to the adult
caregiver (Neill 1982). Thus, there are inconsistencies between these results and
those of Manetti and Campart, discussed above, which will hopefully be resolved as
more studies appear.
Most primary schools have by now rejected the “open-space” architecture which
was advocated energetically in the 1970s as a vehicle for enhancing interpersonal
interaction within schools. In retrospect, it may have been naı̈ve to expect that
simply removing walls and rearranging furniture would bring about fundamental
change in the activities which take place within the school (Giaconia and Hedges
1982). Fortunately, the cooperative learning movement has featured rearrangement
of space and furniture as an adjunct to the redirection of the goal structure of the
school’s program of academic instruction, not as an isolated intervention.
In summary, research documenting the effects of the classroom setting on
children’s social interaction has not only shown that the physical ecology of the
classroom can have an important impact, but has begun to consider the interaction
between the physical and human ecology.
Size of the school. Early research on school climate (McDill and Rigsby 1973;
Weber 1971) explored the link between the size of schools and the academic
achievement of pupils and their general satisfaction with schooling. These studies
yielded largely non-significant findings, and have been criticized for their simplistic
methodology and failure to look at the human ecology of the school together with
the physical ecology. Similarly, Rutter et al. (1979), studying the school climates of
ten inner-city London secondary schools, found that the size of the school had little
to do with the pupils’ attention, achievement, attendance, or with the delinquency
rate of pupils. Thus, school size has, on the whole, been dismissed as a productive
variable in school climate research.
The specific instance of school size in relation to children’s social competence
may warrant an exception. LaFreniere and Sroufe (1985) compared the
social competence (as measured by sociometrics and direct observation of class-
room behavior) of 40 pupils aged 4–5 years old in two preschool classrooms. One
of the classrooms enrolled 16 children, the other 24. This study is particularly
interesting because it explored the 15 effects of class size in conjunction with the
children’s attachment history. In the larger class particularly, children with histo-
ries of anxious attachment with their mothers were more likely to be “swept away
in the contagion of activity and judged to be out of control” (p. 66). Thus,
LaFreniere and Sroufe’s study, among others, illustrates the importance of con-
sidering individual child differences in assessing the impact of the school’s
physical ecology.
Coleman (1961) observed that in larger schools a student’s sociometric status
may tend to “blur.” Pupils do not end up in coherent status groups, with the popular
ones at the top and the rejected pupils at the bottom of the hierarchy. Instead, the
social hierarchy of the school is less well defined, and it is more likely that larger
numbers of social subgroups will form, each of whom will have its own leaders and
rejects. Thus, there will be less consensus with regard to who is most and least liked,
and it is more likely that a given youngster will be well liked in one particular social
subgroup, which is defined by specific interests (athletic, artistic, social), though not
well liked in another, dissimilar subgroup. Caulfield (1980) interviewed a number
of children whose social adjustment had improved over several years. The young-
sters whose sociometric status had improved were asked to speculate about the
reasons. They very often cited a move to a larger school.
Grabe (1981) noted that in smaller schools there tends to be greater participation
in extracurricular athletic, social, and artistic activities. Therefore, there is greater
identification with the school and its social group, at least for those who participate.
However, as such extracurricular activities dominate the atmosphere of a small
school, there is also a heightened sense of alienation and rejection among those who
do not identify with the somewhat uniform general atmosphere of the small school.
Similar findings were obtained in the classic study by Barker and Gump (1964), and
in recent studies (Hawkins et al. 2008), and result in greater bonds between student
and school, motivation for learning, achievement, and engagement. However, as
pointed out by Coleman (1961), the impact of school on one’s peer relations may
depend on the size of the community. In a smaller community, all potential friends
are likely to attend the same school; presumably, in a smaller community, the
consequences of being rejected by a particular social group are also greater because
there are not many other social groups available.
The widespread concern in many countries about violence in inner-city schools
might suggest that larger, urban schools are characterized by higher levels of
aggression. However, Olweus’s pioneering studies of bully-victim problems in
Sweden, Norway, and Finland suggest otherwise. Data are available from over
700 schools, ranging from tiny, rural schools (the smallest of which enrolled
43 students) to large urban schools. There is no indication at all of any relation
between school size (or class size) and the frequency of bullying (Olweus 1991).
As children progress in their studies, they are transferred to large, less personal
schools in most countries. This transition to a larger school has often negative conse-
quences, including disruptions of friendship networks, lower participation in school
activities, and more aggressive behavior (Hawkins and Berndt 1985; Lipsitz 1984).
Pupil–teacher ratio. Because of the implications for public policy and public
finance, few dimensions of the school experience have been studied as extensively as
class size. A complete review of this literature is beyond the scope of this chapter. The
consensus is that, within the range of class size that is typical of most school systems,
i.e., 25–30 pupils, class size makes little tangible difference (Bennett 1998; Goldstein
et al. 2000). However, very small classes, with, for example 8–15 pupils per teacher,
may be beneficial to pupils with particular learning or emotional problems (Finn et al.
2001; Goldstein et al. 2000). Importantly, though, any benefits from reduced class size
may only emerge if the teacher takes advantage of the opportunity to provide more
individual attention to the pupils (Pianta 2006; Rutter and Maughan 2002).
Grades configuration. Another contextual feature is the grades configuration.
Eccles et al. (1991) found that adolescents who attended K-8 schools outperformed
those who attended 6-7-8 grades in a middle or junior high school. It should be
clarified that 74% of the K-8 schools were Catholic and moreover they had fewer
students than public middle and junior high school. Leithwood and Jantzi (2009),
after reviewing studies on the school size and the grades configuration, stated that the
most effective K-8 schools were those with 500–300 students or less, whereas the
ideal K-9 to K-12 schools were those with between 600 and 1,000 students. However,
as noted by Wyse et al. (2008), the impact of the school size on achievement depends
on the quality of education: if the school focuses primarily on the social climate and
has a limited focus on academic pressure, students feel at ease in this school, but their
academic achievement is not higher than that of students attending larger schools.
43.3.4 Social and Cultural Ecology of the School
The social and cultural ecology of the school includes five major components: the
teachers, the diverse elements of social climate (behavioral, supportive, moral),
the goal structure, the recreation time and extracurricular activities, and the student body.
Does the teacher make a difference? The teacher’s role is key in his/her
classroom. Teachers contribute to well-being in at least four differential aspects:
as a source of social support, in their feedback to pupils, showing optimism and
confidence, and depending on their leadership style and organization of the
classroom.
Teacher as a source of social support. Pupils often report that their teachers are
important sources of social support. In fact, in the meta-analysis of 247 studies by
Chu et al. (2010), teacher support emerged as a stronger correlate of well-being than
family or friend support (although these sources of support were still significant
correlates). Teacher support is often of particular importance to children and
adolescents who bring personal problems with them to school (Gambone et al.
2002). Teacher support may take many forms, ranging from tangible assistance
with academics and monitoring of progress to manifestation of respect for the pupil
as an individual (Burchinal et al. 2008; Wigfield et al. 2006). Variables considered
in studies of teacher support include trust, closeness versus conflict, and others
(Birch and Ladd 1998; Resnick et al. 1997). Unfortunately, as with many other
aspects of the school experience that may impact on well-being, teacher–pupil
relationships tend to decline once the pupil progresses to secondary school (e.g.,
Wentzel 2002). This is especially the case for pupils with little intrinsic motivation
to learn (Pianta 2006).
During the primary school years, children typically have extended contact with
a single teacher or small number of teachers, who may therefore become very
salient elements of their interpersonal field. In secondary school years, children
may or may not establish meaningful personal contact with their teachers,
depending upon the structure of the school, teacher and pupil attitudes, time, and
other factors. In the study by Rutter and colleagues (1979), teacher availability for
personal contact was associated with several positive indices of school outcome,
though these were more academic than social. Some more recent data also indicated
that the benefits of personal contact may not be that clear-cut. Kasen et al. (1990)
interviewed 300 New York pupils aged 16 years to obtain descriptions of the
climate of the 250 schools they attended. Their parents were interviewed regarding
the participants’ problem behaviors; these interviews were repeated 2 years later.
Contrary to expectations, children attending schools rated as high in social facili-
tation (i.e., where teachers arrange personal discussions) displayed greater
increases in depression and anxiety, though no change in conduct problems or
oppositionality. These results suggest that the effects of personal teacher–pupil
contact vary according to the general level of hostility and conflict in the environ-
ment. In schools characterized by high levels of conflict, discussions about inter-
personal problems may provide an opportunity to express feelings, but not
eliminate the hostility in the environment nor mitigate its effects. In any case, it
is important to remember that the specific effects of these personal contacts on
children’s social competence were not explored in either of these two interesting
studies.
Teacher feedback to pupils. White et al. (1991) conducted an interesting study in
which children were shown videotapes of teacher–child interaction. Different
versions of the videotape displayed different amounts of positive and negative

teacher feedback. Positive teacher feedback did influence the subject’s ratings of
liking of the child actors to some extent; negative teacher feedback influenced the
ratings more heavily. In consecutive studies, White and colleagues continue
providing results which confirm the effect of teacher feedback on children’s
evaluations of a target child, and this independently of the kind of teacher feedback
and the reputation of the target child (White et al. 1996; White and Jones 2000).
White and Jones (2000) illustrate the importance of considering non-evaluative
teacher attention in combination with children’s reputational status, especially in
the case of children with a positive reputation.
Flanders and Havumaki (1960) conducted an interesting analog study of the
effects of praise on peer perceptions of liking. In discussion groups formed for the
purpose of the study, half the previously unacquainted adolescent participants were
praised by the adult group leader for their contributions. Those who had been
praised received higher sociometric ratings of popularity from other group partic-
ipants. A small-sample study by Medinnus (1962) provides some confirmation that,
in a real classroom, teacher praise is linked to patterns of peer liking. The socio-
metric status of the 6-year-olds studied was highly correlated with both frequency
of teacher praise and teachers’ ratings of their preferences among pupils.
Feshbach (1967) and Portugues and Feshbach (1972) conducted a series of
studies in which primary schoolchildren were shown films of either rewarding,
positive teachers or hostile, negative ones. Following the films, the children’s
imitation of the modeled behaviors was observed. Many of the children imitated
the behaviors of the positive model, though some important social class differ-
ences were noted. The tendency to imitate positive teacher behaviors may
be limited to middle-class subjects, and not extend to lower-class schools,
where, unfortunately, critical authority figures may be more familiar to the chil-
dren. Thus, Feshbach’s results depart somewhat from the general pattern of
research findings, which clearly indicates that teacher enthusiasm is associated
with positive student outcome.
There has also been some suggestion that certain types of children react more
favorably to teacher input. Byrnes (1985) discussed this in connection with the
specific needs of socially neglected children, who are not actively rejected by peers,
but forgotten and isolated. Research is needed to corroborate her observation that
these pupils are in particular need of individual teacher attention, an assertion which
intuitively seems quite valid.
Furthermore, it may be more profitable to assess teacher praise and encourage-
ment in vivo rather than use either Feshbach’s videotaped or White’s analog
technique or Flanders and Havumaki’s somewhat contrived group discussion task.
Teachers’ optimism and confidence. By subjecting his intriguing theoretical
views to systematic empirical research, Carl Rogers succeeded in convincing
a generation of psychologists that warmth, empathy, and unconditional positive
regard are “core conditions” which facilitate interpersonal relationships. Rogers’
theory (1959) had a profound impact on education. Most studies indicated that in
a more student-centered learning environment, the learners’ self-concept is
enhanced, while academic progress is, at the least, not decelerated in comparison to
a content-centered setting.
Teachers’ beliefs about their pupils often come true, according to pertinent
theory and research. As well, teachers’ beliefs about their own abilities and their
own effectiveness are increasingly cited as important determinants of school
success (Beard et al. 2010). Wigfield and colleagues (2006) describe a vicious
circle in which the teacher’s lack of confidence in his or her own abilities translates
into a lack of confidence in the abilities of the pupils, leading to alienation and
failure on their part. On the other hand, when teachers believe in their pupils’
capacities, pupils feel more connected to the school experience and are less likely to
display conduct problems (Brophy 2004; Hattie 2009).
Teachers’ leadership style and organization of the classroom. Believing in
pupils, relating warmly and well with them, and supporting them need not come
at the expense of discipline and order. In the influential inner-city London studies of
pupil adjustment in middle schools (Mortimore 1998), organization and proper
management of time emerged as strong correlates of adjustment. There is very clear
support in research, first of all, for the need for clear routines and standards for pupil
behavior. This improves both achievement and pupil behavior. At the same time,
order is not inconsistent with the granting of appropriate autonomy to pupils (Eccles
and Roeser 2003; Grolnick et al. 2002).
Organization of academic content may also be related to motivation and
well-being. Pupils learn more, behave better, and are more connected to the
academic experience when it provides an appropriate level of challenge and
seems relevant to their future needs (Finn 1989, 2006; Graham and Taylor 2002).
Vygotsky’s concept of scaffolding suggests an ideal sequencing of ideas and
demands on the learner, which has been found to promote interest, achievement,
and motivation (Wigfield et al. 2006).
School climate. The school climate is a multidimensional construct with
numerous connections and implications. We have considered those aspects that
are not included in the previous paragraphs: the normative component that
regulates the appropriate behaviors, supportive relationships between teacher
and student and those between teachers, and the atmosphere or moral climate of
the school.
School behavioral climate. In schools where principal and teaching staff set
rules on appropriate behavior and efficient procedures of monitoring students’
progress, achievement increases while disruptive and antisocial behaviors lessen.
Connell and Wellborn (1991) state that providing a predictable and methodical
behavioral structure orderly throughout the whole school, defined by the presence
of clear and fair norms and expectations, judicious use of reinforcement, informa-
tive feedback, and consistent standards of implementation, helps to increase the
students’ autonomy, because it provides them with information on how to be
competent and successful in that environment.
Supportive relationships. A supportive relationship between teachers and stu-
dents, as well as among teachers, is another critical element in the social system of
the school. In fact the focus of every school reform is to promote relationships that
stimulate and make students feel engaged, and simultaneously transmit support to
teachers (Connell 2003).
The pedagogical caring proposed by Wentzel (1997) (i.e., the perception that
teachers care about what one is learning as a student) is a critical aspect of the
school social climate. The perception of the social support provided by teachers and
the sense of belonging and being a member of a broader community are important
precursors of motivation to learn (Wentzel 2009); this perception is especially
critical in the case of children and young people who belong to ethnic, racial, or
language minority and low socioeconomic status (Garcia-Reid et al. 2005).
Likewise, in the reform called “First Things First,” the first issue that was
addressed in order to prepare the reform was to cultivate positive relationships
among the teachers of a school. Creating conditions leading to the well-being and
development of teachers is essential for the motivation and ability of these teachers
to create in turn the same conditions for their students (Sarason 1990).
The cohesiveness of the school’s teaching staff may be communicated to the
pupils in both obvious and subtle ways. Regardless of what advice teachers may
give children about the proper ways of interacting, the adult interactions observed
may constitute a highly salient instructional medium. In Rutter et al.’s (1979) study
of secondary schools in inner-city London, staff relations emerged as a powerful
predictor of several types of school outcome (though peer-related social compe-
tence was not measured specifically in that study).
At least one ethnographic study confirmed that cooperative interactions among
the school staff do have some connection with children’s peer relations. Batten and
Girling-Butcher (1981) used a combination of interview techniques and rating
scales to compare the quality of seven Australian secondary schools. In one of
the seven, a Catholic religious school, the staff were seen by the pupils as working
together like a family and displaying a keen sense of commitment toward each
other. In that school, peers were seen as particularly friendly and supportive. The
students interviewed spoke of one particular case in which a classmate who had
experienced marked difficulty getting along with others in a previous school was
learning to adapt well in this more cohesive environment.
Two lines of research can be used to see the effects of school culture in
educational reforms: the Accelerated Schools Project (ASP) (Levin 1998) and
interventions that try to apply the lessons learned from studies on school effective-
ness in order to help schools in crisis (Hopkins and Reynolds 2001).
School moral climate (atmosphere). It refers to issues such as how fair and
impartial are the norms, whether principal and teachers believe or not that it is
possible to promote learning and development of all students, the type of modeling
provided by teachers, whether students have a say in school matters and can
participate in making decisions about learning and other issues.
Schools as fair communities, like Kohlberg (1970) proposed, are a pioneering
vision that emphasizes a global orientation of the school in which students learn
democracy and ethical reasoning. The Child Development Project (CDP) in
Oakland, California, has been carrying out such a work to promote the moral
climate of the school. They encourage the students to take part in cooperative
activities and serve the community at school level. Such practices help to achieve
a “community of care,” and influence positively to a proper behavior at school,
feelings of belonging, motivational beliefs and self-concept (Schaps 2003).
Goal structure. The goal structure guides both the activity in school and class-
room and the value that is given to results and academic performance. The way to
achieve these results can be competitive or cooperative. A particular modality of
cooperation is peer tutoring.
One of the most important components of the school culture is the goal orien-
tation of the school. Maehr and Midgley (1996) argued that there were at least two
academic goal structures: performance-oriented, where academic success is defined
in terms of showing higher capacity and achieving higher grades, and mastery-
oriented, where academic success is defined in terms of the student’s efforts to
master the content, improve skills, and learn by means of trial-and-error
approaches, and social support.
Students who perceive their school as mastery-oriented adopt the same orienta-
tion, which in turn influences their beliefs of self-efficacy and their positive affect
toward the school (Roeser et al. 2006); they consider the school to be more positive
and their emotional stress decreases (Roeser et al. 1998a); they have
a greater perception of well-being and realize fewer disruptive behaviors
(Kaplan and Maehr 1999); they report higher levels of attachment to school
(Fiqueira-McDonough 1986). In a review of the 25 years of the Achievement-Goal
Theory, Meece and colleagues (2005) concluded that “Whereas school environments
that are focused on demonstrating high ability and competing for grades can increase
the academic performance of some students, research suggests that many young
people experience diminished motivation under these conditions” (p. 487).
The literature has reported that during the transition from primary to secondary,
both teachers and students perceive a greater emphasis on performance-oriented
goals (Maehr and Midgley 1996; Roeser et al. 2002). Students who are most aware
of this emphasis on achievement show higher levels of extrinsic motivation and
academic anxiety than their classmates experience. Furthermore, those who are the
most conscious of the academic emphasis of their school environments tend to
believe more than their classmates that such indicators as school grades are
fundamental in the assessment of academic success.
Cooperative versus competitive goal structures. The promotion of cooperative
learning experiences has been probably the most active and best-accepted effort to
date at restructuring the social ecology of the school. Cooperative learning tech-
niques were developed as an alternative to the competitive goal structure of most
schools. A system in which pupils compete with each other for marks allows no
incentive for children helping each other: helping another child is usually consid-
ered cheating. Where there are official or unofficial restrictions on the proportion of
high marks which can be assigned, a student who provides assistance to classmates
may lower her own mark as a result (Johnson and Johnson 1975; Slavin 1987).
Thomas (1984) maintained that competitive goal structures have replaced harsh
discipline as a tool used by urban schools to maintain a modicum of control over
pupils. In his view, competition is no more productive a tool in the long run.
It causes profound alienation of disadvantaged youth, who escape the situation by

not achieving their potential and by leaving school early.
Proponents of cooperative learning have developed a variety of specific pro-
cedures and empirically documented their effects. According to Kagan and Kagan
(2009), “Cooperative learning has perhaps the strongest empirical research base of
any educational innovation” (Chap. 1, p. 5)
Cooperative learning does not mean simply telling children to work together. In
order for cooperative goal structures to meaningfully influence the social system, it
is necessary to create a positive interdependence, where incentives must be made
contingent on group rather than on individual achievement and tasks are so struc-
tured that they cannot be done individually. Individual accountability must also be
built in if the pupils are to take the cooperative learning experience seriously
(Slavin 1987). One important challenge in modifying the competitive goal structure
of the traditional school is to provide each child or group with an equal participa-
tion, an equal opportunity to succeed and obtain rewards. According to Kagan
(1999), these principles or elements of cooperative learning are further enhanced by
means of increasing the students’ participation, which occurs when the sequential
interaction present in the competitive classes, one student at a time, is replaced
by the simultaneous interaction, i.e., more students participate and learn
simultaneously.
Johnson and Johnson (1975) organized children into work teams and pupils are
considered as teammates. The “jigsaw classroom” (Aronson et al. 1978) is another
innovation designed to promote cooperative goal structure. More recently, Kagan
(1999; Kagan and Kagan 2009) proposed uncomplicated structures of cooperative
learning. Structures are like tools in the teacher’s toolbox, which will help to
organize the teaching, learning, and living together in the classroom. Each structure
is a sequence of steps describing how teachers and students interact with the
curriculum; it can be applied repeatedly to different content, and of course it
implements the cooperative principles. These structures develop automatisms,
some efficient and some not so much, and foster learning and engagement, some to
a lesser extent and in less students and some more extensively and in more students.
Although there has been a great deal of research on the effects of these
cooperative learning experiences, cognitive outcome measures have been far
more prevalent than measures of social competence. Thorough reviews of this
literature were presented by Johnson and Johnson (1975), Johnson et al. (1981),
and Slavin (1987). The majority of findings indicate that children achieve greater
academic gain in cooperative learning experiences than in control conditions of
various types. This optimistic picture has been challenged because of the methods
used both in the reviews and some of the original studies (Vedder 1985) and
because cooperative learning experiments may be more successful in that culture
than elsewhere (Madsen and Shapira 1970).
Roseth et al. (2008) conducted a meta-analysis on the effects of goal structures
in a sample of 17,000 adolescents, in which they concluded that higher achieve-
ment and more positive peer relationships have a higher correlation with cooper-
ative goal structures than with the other two goal structures, the competitive and
individualistic ones. Cooperative learning is well received because it is at present

the only educational innovation that gives some responses to the most important
crises or challenges facing education (Kagan and Kagan 2009): the achievement
crisis; the crisis of the imbalance between those who learn a lot and those
who learn less; the immigration crisis, and the crisis of social competence. The
benefits of cooperative learning extend to all students, especially those with
special educational needs.
Peer tutoring. Another way of integrating positive peer experience with aca-
demic content is having more capable children assist their classmates who are in
academic difficulty. Pigott et al. (1986) arranged peer tutoring for primary school
pupils weak in arithmetic. They found that this procedure resulted in improved
arithmetic achievement. As well, there were dramatic gains in the peers’
ratings of the social acceptance of the study team members. In a series of
studies, Strain (1985) instructed non-handicapped classmates to prompt men-
tally handicapped peers in such appropriate social behaviors as initiating play
or conversation, sharing toys, helping others, and expressing affection. Results
showed dramatic increases in the prompted behaviors. Although research
overwhelmingly has documented the effects of peer tutoring on academic
achievement, its benefits for children’s peer relations have not been established
as clearly, though they are depicted graphically in many qualitative accounts
(Goodland and Hirst 1989).
School student body intake mix. This section approaches the issue of initial
differences between schools. These differences may be caused by the type of
students that attend the school (students’ age and gender, educational needs, etc.),
by the availability of economic and personal resources, or by the decisions of the
school in how to group its students.
Age and gender composition of the student body. The age range and gender
distribution of pupils in a school may both contribute to the social relations of
students. A wide range may provide for modeling by older children. When students
remain in the same school for a longer time period, groups may be more cohesive
than where promotion to higher forms or grades leads to transfer to a new and
inevitably larger school. There has been little systematic study of these effects for
primary or secondary school pupils.
Heterogeneity in the initial characteristics of the student body. Another feature
of the school context is the mix of socially disadvantaged students with students
with more resources, of students with significant emotional or behavioral problems
mixed with students who do not have any problem. This mix within the school
student body has been associated with the educational outcomes of the students
(Rutter and Maughan 2002). As the ratio of socially disadvantaged students goes up
in a school, its aggregate achievement decreases (Rumberger and Palardy 2005).
LeBlanc and colleagues (2007) found that the proportion of students with disruptive
behavior in elementary schools predicted subsequent rates of behavioral problems
in secondary schools. In general, individuals feel best in those school settings in
which they fit well with the norms and aggregate features of the student body
(Eccles and Roeser 2011).
According to Rutter and Maughan (2002) the key question is how these effects
are mediated, particularly whether contextual influences operate mainly through the
running of the school (e.g., organization and educational practices), through the
peer processes (e.g., peer culture), or the comparison processes among individuals
(e.g., self-esteem). Their conclusion is that the three mechanisms are present and
further research is required. The issue is far from resolved. The situation is not very
different from the academic arguments about streaming or tracking which will be
addressed later on, and those about ordinary integration schools and about special
schools for children with special needs (Howlin 2002).
Resources and disadvantaged schools. A closely related issue to the one
just discussed refers to the human and economic resources that a school receives. Despite
the accepted belief that more money produces more school success, the effect of the
level of school resources on students’ progress continues to cause controversy
(Greenwald et al. 1996). Studies on school effectiveness have generally found a weak
link between school budget and students’ performances, and the question raised
by Coleman (1968) about how many financial resources are needed to increase the
students’ performance or to reduce the inequality among students, still remains unsolved.
Gershoff and Aber (2006) define the “disadvantaged schools” by the lack of
resources they receive. One indicator of a disadvantaged school is the percentage
of students entitled to a dining support or grant. Schools with a higher proportion of
these students achieve lower grades, these students report less positive attitudes
toward school, and parents of pupils of high-poverty schools are less likely to
participate in school activities (Wirt et al. 2003). Negative results extend to all the
children attending schools with more than half of the pupils entitled to grants,
regardless of the fact that the target child himself needs a grant (Mayer et al. 2000).
These schools suffer from a continued deterioration (NCES 2000).
There are certain contextual features that are common to low-income schools
that make them become places that discourage learning: (1) the higher proportion of
low-qualified teachers, (2) the proportion of teachers who move each year to
another school is much higher, (3) the higher proportion of inexperienced teachers,
(4) lower wages, (5) teachers are more likely to exercise greater control over
students because they believe that the students of these schools lack the self control
needed to motivate and regulate their own learning, (6) these schools often increase
in size and class ratios in order to increase their resources. Thus, the economic
resources of a school clearly establish its human resources and these may determine
the quality of teaching and the learning outcomes. Students in those schools learn
less and behave worse than those in schools with well-trained teachers.
The economic resources are also relevant to the physical ecology of the
school, namely, through the school’s physical appearance. Schools with high
concentrations of poor students are equipped with more metal detectors, more
bars on the windows, and there are more graffiti on the walls than in richer
schools. What kind of message does this fact transmit to students in terms of
safety, belonging, and identification with the school? The “broken windows”
theory on delinquency and crime (Wilson and Kelling 1982), argues that, for
instance, physically abandoned or poorly maintained spaces carry a message of
absence of ownership and lack of moral structure, and thus these spaces become
melting pots of antisocial activity (Gladwell 2000).
Grouping students by academic ability. Kagan (1990) discussed a number of
ways in which schools help or alienate children who are at risk for psychological
difficulty. These include isolating them to subgroups which, in the opinion of some,
do not identify with the school and with the process of learning. Indeed, it has been
shown that once students within a classroom have been grouped on the basis of
academic ability, social boundaries form and are rarely crossed (Putallaz and
Gottman 1981; Ready and Lee 2008), though the increased contact with individuals
within one’s own track may facilitate friendship formation within it (Hansell and
Karweit 1983). Since individuals’ academic and social competence tend to corre-
late, ability grouping (tracking) may lead to differential access to competent peer
models as well as differential peer reinforcement of social skills. However, in
mixed-ability groups or classes, high academic achievement may serve as the ticket
to group participation and peer acceptance (Asher et al. 1977).
The tracking, or curricular differentiation based on different levels of ability,
organizes the students’ experience and behaviors in three directions (Roeser et al.
2009): (a) the quality and types of learning opportunities it offers (Oakes 2005),
(b) it determines the exposure to different peers, and somehow the nature of the
social relationships that form in the school (Dishion et al. 2001), (c) it determines
the social comparison group that the students will use to assess their own abilities
and develop their academic identities (Marsh et al. 2008).
There is no established consensus on the overall effects of curriculum diversity
or tracking (Eccles and Roeser 2011; Hattie 2009). But the results are not encour-
aging in any of the three directions. Current studies indicate that students who are
assigned to high tracks accelerate their development, but their self-concept
decreases, whereas those assigned to low track slow their progress, but their self-
concept increases. Unfortunately, the low-track-schooled students are labeled by
their peers and teachers as dumb (Frank et al. 2008). In addition, as students have
more relationships with the peers with whom they spend more time, this situation
can lead low-track students to engage in risk or criminal activity (Dishion et al.
2001). Students tend to stay in those tracks where they had initially been schooled
(Lucas 1999). On the other hand, tracking can maximize the likelihood that pupils
will encounter academic content that is relevant to them. High-ability pupils may
find support and stimulation when grouped with peers who share their abilities and
interests (Lando and Schneider 1997). Thus, tracking seems to bring both positive
and negative results (Roeser et al. 2009).
Recreation time and extracurricular activities. Developmental theorists such as
Piaget emphasized that play is an important facilitator of cognitive development.
School recreation periods provide opportunities for exploration, manipulation of
objects, practice of social skills, and stress reduction (Ramstetter et al. 2010). As
well, extracurricular activities and recreation are essential for the physical well-
being of children and for the formation and consolidation of interpersonal relation-
ships. This should by no means be considered growth that occurs at the expense of
academics. In fact, it has been found that participation in extracurricular activities is
actually correlated positively with the mastery of academic content (Eccles and
Roeser 2011; Lagacé-Séguin and Case 2010; Powell et al. 2002). Furthermore,
pupils who participate in extracurricular activities report a strong school engage-
ment and high educational aspirations (Eccles et al. 2003) and higher levels of life
satisfaction than do other pupils (Gilman et al. 2004). Pupils who elect not to
participate in extracurricular activities tend disproportionately to drop out of school
(Mahoney and Cairns 1997). Unfortunately, many schools fail to provide recreation
or recess for their pupils, thus triggering off a lively debate on this matter (Lagacé-
Séguin and Case 2010).
Eccles and Templeton (2002) suggested that the benefits associated with partici-
pation in extracurricular activities occur through the following mechanisms: increased
relationships with peers more academically oriented, more time accompanied by
adults who provide support and good mentoring, increased opportunities for building
up social networks and for practicing necessary skills leading to success in school.
This is an important point to take into account, because schools differ in the amount
and type of extracurricular activities, and in the recess periods that they offer to their
students, especially those schools which have few resources and are very large.
43.4 Empirical Support for the Importance of Schools
43.4.1 Global Empirical Evidence to Date
Large-sample correlational data and meta-analysis. Early thinking was heavily

influenced by data indicating that the size of a school effect is small in a statistical
sense. For instance, the classic Coleman report (Coleman et al. 1966) indicated that
somewhere between 10% and 14% of variation in pupil achievement could be
accounted for by school effects, but these percentages should be reduced by over
50% in order to account for differences among the schools in demographic factors
such as parental education and income, yielding in some cases an adjusted estimate
of 5% of the variance. These data led to a rather pessimistic view of the importance
of schools. Other major studies of the era yielded very similar estimates.
Beginning in the 1970s, meta-analysis emerged as result of increasing pressure
by policy makers for valid syntheses of research on important issues (Light and
Pillemer 1984). School-effects research was an important issue on which a great
many studies had been conducted, indicating the need for sophisticated strategies
for research synthesis. However, it is important to note the limitations of meta-
analysis in the synthesis of school-effects studies. The most important of these
limitations is the averaging across highly diverse independent measures of school
features and highly diverse outcome measures.
Although a myriad of studies and syntheses of their results yield the same conclu-
sion, it should be noted that this literature is difficult to synthesize. All outcomes –
academic, behavioral, vocational, and personal – tend to be averaged together. There-
fore, potentially interesting differences across outcomes may not be represented
adequately in syntheses of school-effects research. Bosker and Scheerens (1989)
advocate more standardized reporting of research results, including clearer specifica-

tion of individual effect sizes.
Importantly, when these small (but potentially important) effects are analyzed
together with more powerful influences such as family factors and neighborhood
risk, the school influences may be obscured. This occurred, for example, in the
results of a sophisticated survey conducted in the UK on family, neighborhood, and
school influences on different aspects of pupil well-being, in which school factors
were found to be non-significant (Bradshaw et al. 2011).
One sophisticated estimate of the extent of school effects was provided in a meta-
analysis by Scheerens and Bosker (1997), who considered 89 studies from several
countries, yielding a net effect size of 0.30 of a standard deviation unit, but because of
a number of factors that should be taken into consideration, may really be no higher
than 0.20. One of these factors is that part of the effect may not pertain to the influences
of schools but to the influences of classrooms. In interpreting the data, they remind the
reader that many of the effectiveness statistics may represent little more than snapshots
in time that portray effects that may not be stable. Averaging across studies may also
obscure differential effectiveness of schools at different ages.
Although this meta-analysis yielded revised estimates of the effects of school on
school achievement that were somewhat higher than those in the Coleman report,
Scheerens and Bosker provide the most salient reason for still believing in school
effects – and working to enhance them – despite effect sizes that are somewhat
modest. They note that schools do not affect all of their pupils to an equal extent.
Schools are likely to be most effective for pupils who come from disadvantaged
or deprived backgrounds. Although the meta-analysis is focused on academic
achievement, there is no reason to believe that school effects are any larger for
psychosocial data.
Studies on school effects have burgeoned in the intervening decades. Many of the
recent studies were designed with efforts at correcting the limitations of earlier ones,
although many problems remain. Kyriakides and colleagues (2010) conducted a meta-
analysis of 67 studies conducted in various parts of the world between 1990 and 2010.
In contrast with earlier meta-analyses and qualitative research syntheses, these authors
adopted a multi-level theory-driven approach. Their dynamic model is based on the
assumption that various school-level factors influence classroom-level practice,
especially the behavior of teachers. School-level policies are of course influenced by
the broader cultural context and national educational policies. They see these cultural
and school factors as shaping classroom-level factors, such as interacting with such
individual pupil-level factors as socioeconomic status, gender, culture, and personality
in determining cognitive and affective outcomes alike. The meta-analysis revealed
support for the most fundamental pathways specified in the model, with small but
significant correlations mostly averaging about 0.15 across studies.
Thus, the rapidly accumulating data indicate quite clearly that schools do have
effects of various kinds on different aspects of the well-being of their students,
although these effects are not usually large in the statistical sense. Despite the
modest effect sizes, these influences are widely considered much more important
than they once were thought to be. One of the main reasons for this is the emergence
of better general understanding of the real-life importance of small effects. Small

effects may be very consequential for certain individuals, especially individuals at
risk of failure, even if the influence of schools, for example, across the entire
population, is not very large (Light and Pillemer 1984).
43.4.2 Outlier Studies
Another approach to gauging the “true” effects of schools is the analysis of outlier
studies. This entails isolating data from schools with effectiveness data far higher than
those of most others schools. Purkey and Smith (1983) conducted an influential report
on seven case studies of outlier schools. The results indicated the following features of
outstanding schools: strong leadership, orderly climate, high expectations, frequent
evaluation of students, emphasis on pupil achievement, cooperative atmosphere, clear
academic goals in all subject areas, good training of staff, and an emphasis on being
on-task. Essentially the same dimensions were identified in a well-known influential
narrative review of school effects by Mortimore (1998). Reviewing data from many
countries on these issues, Scheerens and Bosker conclude that there are many prob-
lems in generalizing internationally the dimensions identified by Purkey and Smith.
43.4.3 Methodological Issues
The interpretation of the burgeoning literature on school effects is a challenging

enterprise because of the many methodological issues that arise in designing good
research in this area. One fundamental concern, ignored in many published studies,
is that school effects occur at different levels. If this is not taken into account, what
might be understood as a school effect – or lack of effect – may be confounded with
what is really a teacher effect or classroom effect, on the one hand, or with
a community or cultural effect on the other. Statistical advances, such as multi-
level modeling, are being used increasingly to separate these different effects
(Luyten and Sammons 2010). Some critics of studies conducted before the advent
of widespread multi-level modeling contend that teacher effects are in fact larger
than school effects in general (Hill and Rowe 1996; Teddlie and Reynolds 2000).
Other fundamental methodological issues include the choice of both the inde-
pendent and dependent variables and how they are measured. In this area of
research, much more attention has been paid to outcome measures, such as pupil
achievement, than to measuring the school factors that might be related to it.
Although many theorists in the field emphasize that pupil outcome should be the
focus of school-effects research (Bosker and Scheerens 1989), this does not mean
that methodological issues in the measurement of the school process linked with
outcome should be totally ignored.
A complete critique of issues in the measurement of pupil outcome is beyond the
scope of this chapter. However, it is worth noting that much more attention has
been devoted to measurement issues regarding academic achievement than to
measurement of the many other valuable outcomes, including many of the indica-
tors of well-being that have been discussed here and in other chapters of this book.
Related to this is the question of whether researchers can or should be content with
intermediate measures of both independent and dependent measures. Statistics
about the attainment of specific school levels, graduation rates, etc., are easily
obtained but may not fully represent the school reality that a researcher wishes to
study (Bosker and Scheerens 1989). In their very famous study of the effectiveness
of schools in the economically deprived neighborhoods of central London, Rutter
and colleagues (1979) went so far as to use the presence of potted plants in the
classroom as an indication of the teacher’s attitude towards the physical setting.
This, of course, may not fully satisfy the specifications of all theorists and
methodologists.
Mortimore (1998) emphasized judging schools on the basis of their improve-
ment over time, not their effectiveness at any particular moment. This issue is
particularly pertinent to schools that are known to underachieve and to schools
enrolling large numbers of disadvantaged pupils. He also advocated focus on the
school culture as a central element of effectiveness research. Mortimore insists that
the school culture must be positive, with learning valued for its own sake and with
mutual trust among the people of the school.
It has long been known that school effects can easily be confounded with the
personal, community, and cultural resources brought to schools by their pupils.
Influential studies, even those from as early as the 1960s, included careful measure
of intake factors such as family income, parental education, IQ, etc. However, and
quite surprisingly, this issue is sometimes ignored (Purkey and Smith 1983; Bosker
and Scheerens 1989). The confounding of school effects with those of the neighbor-
hoods in which the schools are located occurs, most obviously, in places where
children from the same neighborhood attend the same schools. In a recent Canadian
study involving over 1,400 youths, Oberle, et al. (2011) found a small but signif-
icant positive correlation between school factors and perceived neighborhood
support. However, their analysis revealed that the school factors still contributed
significantly to adolescent life satisfaction over and above the statistical prediction
accounted for by the neighborhood factors (see discussion of multi-level modeling
below). Importantly, an optimistic attitude by the pupils was also linked to life
satisfaction, over and above the variance explained by school, neighborhood, and
family contexts.
One classic challenge is the reality that, in most countries, most schools resem-
ble each other in many if not most relevant respects (Rutter 1983). All correlation
statistics are attenuated by restricted range. Therefore, it is important to
analyze specifically the outlier schools, as discussed above, that provide either
markedly excellent or markedly deficient educational environments (Bosker and
Scheerens 1989).
A final and very consequential methodological challenge is to analyze the
stability of any school effects over time, across classrooms within schools, and
across different outcome criteria (e.g., academic, social, behavioral, attitudinal).
Demonstrating stability in these respects invokes important issues in the design of
longitudinal research, including attention to issues of attrition and missing data.

Longitudinal methods can be applied to long-term benefits to individual pupils as
well as to long-term effects of individual schools on successive cohorts of pupils
(Bosker and Scheerens 1989).
43.5 Interventions to Promote Well-Being at School
The multiple ways by which schools can influence the well-being of their students
suggest a myriad of possible interventions that can conceivably promote well-being
at school. Accordingly, improving the quality of schools in many different ways
could bring benefits to pupil well-being. An exhaustive list of possible interventions
is not possible here.
One approach, documented in several recent writings, is to explore with the
pupils of a specific school the most important obstacles to well-being they perceive
in their school environment. Conceivably, teachers, parents, and other members of
the broader school community could be involved in this type of process. However,
advocates frame this intervention approach within the framework of recognizing
children’s voice – consulting with children about decisions that pertain to their
lives, even allowing them to reach certain decisions as appropriate (Hill 2006). Hill,
an educational psychologist in the UK, conducted focus-group interviews with
pupils of various grade levels at a single school. During their interviews, the pupils
articulated the obstacles to well-being at school that most irritated them. Under the
guidance of the psychologists involved, they then developed an action plan for
promoting well-being. The action plan included concrete measures to improve the
cleanliness of the lunchroom, increased use of praise and positive reinforcement by
the teachers, “worry boxes” in which children could deposit messages expressing
aspects of their school experience that they dislike, and more frequent outings
especially nature-discovery trips.
At times, this approach may lead to the discovery of more substantial obstacles
to well-being than are contemplated by the school personnel who initiate forays into
the subjective perceptions of pupils. This occurred, for example, in another project
conducted in the UK by Duckett et al. (2010). Their methodology included inter-
views with pupils, pupil expression by means of journal diaries covering a 1-week
period, and talks about the school. The resounding conclusion was that the only
meaningful way of improving pupil well-being at the school was to find some way
to deal with the pervasive and insidious bullying that was going on virtually
unchecked. Unfortunately, the school authorities tried to prevent release of the
report generated by this project team.
Another strategy for determining the areas in which to intervene is to attempt to
define the educational needs of individual pupils rather than the shortcomings of
schools. These needs may fall in many areas, including academic, social, and
personal skills. Carmen et al. (2011) implemented this approach successfully with
a small number of at-risk early adolescents in Melbourne, Australia. Obviously,
such customization involves considerable expenditure of energy and time.
43.6 Concluding Remarks
The central theme of this chapter is that schools make a difference in children’s well-
being despite any remaining vestiges of the belief that schools have only a minimal
impact on the pupils they serve and who spend much of their developing years in
them. It is interesting from an intellectual standpoint to debate the relative importance
of the influences of schools, families, peers, communities, and cultures. However, in
real terms, this debate loses its fire after one recognizes that schools do have clear
effects. For one thing, it is very probable that in most cases, schools replicate rather
than contradict the socialization practices of the other agents of socialization. Thus,
schools probably do not compete with other sources of guidance. Furthermore, there
may well be situations where a teacher, school official, school peer group, or school
athletic coach can have a substantial positive impact on a growing child who
experiences unfavorable conditions in other contexts. This is not to say that schools
can substitute for nurturing authoritative families or for equitable, just societies.
As discussed in the first few pages of this chapter, some educationalists, such
as Noddings, have argued for specific school curricula aimed at promoting the
well-being of children and adolescents. Although we do not disagree with Noddings’
suggestion in any way, we are not certain that the promotion of well-being depends
entirely on add-ons to the curriculum. As we have enumerated herein, schools promote
well-being in a myriad of ways that are embodied in their very structure and in the
interpersonal exchanges that emerge throughout the school days and years.
Undoubtedly, enhancing well-being by improving schools means, to some
extent, investing more public resources in schools. However, there is only a very
small correlation between the money spent in schools and their quality (Greenwald
et al. 1996). More important is the way in which those in charge of school go about
their work in stimulating interest, relating to children, organizing the school, and,
not by any means the least of their tasks, teaching academic content.
Acknowledgments The writing of this chapter was made possible partly thanks to research
support grants awarded to the first author, from the Ministry of Education and Science (Project:
Peer Rejection and Classroom Social Dynamics: A Multidisciplinary and Multi-Methodological
Approach; reference PSI2008-00541/PSIC) and from Bancaja Foundation/Universitat Jaume
I (Project: Longitudinal Study of Peer Rejection in Interpersonal Context: an intervention program
for 7- to 9-year-old children; reference P1-1B2009-33), and the granting of a 3-month stay at the
Universitat Jaume I (1 April to 30 June 2011) to Barry H. Schneider Ph.D. from the Ministry of
Science and Innovation within the National Program of Research Human Resources Mobility
2010, Subprogram Stays of experienced foreign teachers and researchers in Spanish centers
(reference SAB2010-0111).
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Community and Place-Based
Understanding of Child Well-Being 44
Claudia J. Coulton and James C. Spilsbury
44.1 Introduction
Where children live matters for their well-being. The neighborhood and community
context has an immediate bearing on what children experience day to day and
consequences for their long-term life chances. The quality of local public services,
the prevalence of crime and violence, the quality of the natural and built environ-
ment, the influences of peers and social networks, and the proximity to jobs and
resources can all act to either diminish the well-being of children and families or
enhance their prospects. A substantial body of social science research finds
that growing up in disinvested, distressed, or socially and economically isolated
neighborhoods is associated with an increased risk of many adverse outcomes for
children, including school failure, poor health, victimization, delinquency, teen
child-bearing, and youth unemployment (Brooks-Gunn et al. 1997; Ellen et al.
2001; Leventhal and Brooks-Gunn 2003). Yet even though place-based disparities
in child well-being are well documented and of significant public policy concern,
the complex dynamics that connect individuals and neighborhoods have made it
challenging to fully understand the important processes or to formulate effective
action to improve the community context for child well-being.
The purpose of this chapter is to situate child well-being within a place-based
framework that is dynamic and transactional and that incorporates individual
agency and spatial processes into an understanding of how neighborhoods and
communities are intertwined with child well-being. A voluminous research litera-
ture documents “neighborhood effects” on numerous markers of child well-being.
C.J. Coulton (*)

Mandel School of Applied Social Sciences, Case Western Reserve University, Cleveland, OH,
USA
J.C. Spilsbury
Center for Clinical Investigation, Case School of Medicine, Cleveland, OH, USA

1308 C.J. Coulton and J.C. Spilsbury
Neighborhood effects studies attempt the formidable task of isolating the causal
impact of neighborhoods on children. A limitation of this literature is that most of
the studies hold constant the neighborhood specifications and make simplifying
assumptions about the direction of the effects and the mechanisms that are respon-
sible. Moreover, much of the research has tended to reify neighborhoods as vessels
floating in a vacuum at a point in time, relatively impervious to the social and
economic processes that shape them. Finally, the emphasis on isolating the pure
“neighborhood effect” has been disconnected from efforts to understand how
individuals come to reside in or move out of neighborhoods, and how they adapt
to, act upon, and make meaning of these surroundings in their lives. This chapter
attempts to incorporate what is known about these dynamics of neighborhood and
community change and transactions between individuals and their residential
contexts into an assessment of place-based influences on child well-being.
The chapter is organized as follows. The first section discusses the concepts of
neighborhood, community, and place and provides a working definition of these con-
cepts to guide the rest of the chapter. The second section tackles the evolving evidence
regarding the impact of place on child well-being. Rather than attempting to summarize
the findings of a vast and disparate literature on neighborhood effects, we focus on
selected well-being indicators and the plausible mechanisms at the neighborhood level
that contribute to them. In the third section, we address a reality that challenges the
predominant paradigm for neighborhood effects research that views neighborhood only
as a cause of some child outcome. In contrast to this static, one-directional model,
residential mobility must be accounted for as a constant and dynamic process. We
suggest that moving from one place to another is one way that families adapt to changing
circumstances and seek to satisfy their aspirations. However, macrostructural forces,
such as racial segregation and exclusionary zoning, constrain residential choices and
limit the ability of disadvantaged groups to situate themselves in places that foster child
well-being. Moreover, excessive residential mobility, especially when it is dictated by
family crises or loss, can have a disruptive effect on children’s lives and undermine
community social control and cohesion. In the fourth section, we consider that children
and families have agency with respect to shaping their local environments. We examine
what is being learned about children’s and adults’ subjective experience of neighbor-
hood and how they adapt to and attempt to change their surroundings. Finally, we
conclude with the implications of a dynamic, place-based perspective on child well-
being for future research and public policy approaches.
44.2 Conceptions of Place, Community, and Neighborhood
In this chapter we focus on communities that are place-based. There is growing

interest in understanding how places affect child well-being and in utilizing place as
a framework and platform for policies and programs serving children. This interest
has converged from many directions. One has been the recognition of large dispar-
ities in child well-being that can be seen when places are compared – such as between
low-income and better-off neighborhoods, across racial and ethnic communities,
44 Community and Place-Based Understanding of Child Well-Being 1309
or from rural to urban areas (Acevedo-Garcia et al. 2008; Coulton and Korbin 2007).
Second, sectors that exist as silos at national, regional, and municipal levels (e.g.,
education, health, social services) see the chance of having greater impact on child
well-being when they work together in the places where children live. At the same
time, each of these systems finds itself addressing child well-being concerns (e.g.,
obesity, childhood trauma, homelessness) for which contributing factors in the social
and physical environment are beyond its direct control. Finally, the fraying of the
safety net in many countries, along with the belief in power of social capital that is
embedded in relationship and organizations, has turned attention toward the promise
of local capacity to support families and children.
While it is important to recognize that communities can be far flung and even
virtual, this chapter focuses on geographically defined areas that surround families and
children and have a localized influence on their well-being. Typically referred to as
neighborhoods within urban areas, they can also comprise villages or hamlets in rural
areas. These areas are not simply geographic footprints but units of social organization
that have meaning as places to live, work, and go about daily life. They have an
identity in the minds of insiders and outsiders. Neighborhoods and villages are more
than collections of individuals or locations for populations; they also include space,
physical structures, social networks, formal and informal organizations, businesses,
systems of exchange and governance, and so forth. Moreover, these place-based
communities are not islands, but are spatially located relative to other places. Indeed,
the geographic location of place-based communities relative to regional-level
resources and opportunities is not inconsequential for the families and children who
live there (Coulton and Korbin 2007). We will refer to place-based communities as
neighborhoods in the rest of this chapter, recognizing that terminology and meaning
may differ somewhat between regions, nations, and cultures.
The problem of defining a neighborhood and the practical issue of specifying
its boundaries for research or practice have received critical attention in recent
years (Chaskin 1997; Downey 2006; Galster 2001; Messer 2007; Nicotera 2007).
Importantly, even when residents live in geographic proximity, it cannot be
assumed that they all view the place similarly or that they are cognizant of the
surrounding area (Burton et al. 1997; Campbell et al. 2009; Coulton et al. 2011;
Charles 2000; Krysan 2002; Sampson and Raudenbush 2004). Moreover,
researchers that incorporate spatial metrics into their research find that neighbor-
hood influences have more or less impact on indicators of well-being depending on
the geographic distances that are incorporated (Chaix et al. 2005; Haynes et al.
2007; Riva et al. 2009). Nevertheless, most research on neighborhoods and child
well-being relies on units that are delineated by government statistical agencies or
regional planning groups. Externally imposed neighborhood definitions such as
these are practical because of data availability and the fact that statistical models
often rely on a nested structure in which individuals are grouped into aggregations
to isolate the neighborhood effects. However, static units treated in isolation
ignores that, depending on the phenomenon of interest, some individuals relate to
only a subsection of the predefined neighborhood unit while others are being
influenced by much wider surroundings.
Complicating the effort to understand neighborhoods is the fact that they are not
simply settings or environments apart from the experience of those who live there.
Indeed, neighborhoods have both individual and collective meaning and are not
merely territory, but social constructions (Lee et al. 1994). Individuals have agency
with respect to neighborhoods (Entwisle 2007), and as they move through their
residential surroundings, they carve their own activity space (Sherman et al. 2005),
along with a sense of place that fits into their social identity (Stedman 2002).
Additionally, social interaction shapes the definition and meaning of neighborhoods
for individuals and groups (Gotham 2003). Residents can either embrace surrounding
space or disavow parts of it (Gotham and Brumley 2002).
This conceptualization leads us to view neighborhoods as both physical places
and social constructions with boundaries that are shifting and permeable. It points
us in the direction of anticipating that child well-being will be influenced by both
objective conditions and subjective experiences of place. And it recognizes that the
influence is bidirectional, in that places can change people, but people can also
change places. Even though much of the research on place and child well-being
necessarily makes simplifying assumptions in favor of objective measurement and
linear modeling, this chapter will also highlight the dynamic and experiential
processes involved.
44.3 Neighborhood Effects and Child Well-Being
Although it is often observed that children are better off in some neighborhoods than
others, an important question is why. Two major research traditions have influenced
the thinking about the relationships between neighborhoods and child well-being:
One focuses on social structure and organization and the other on ecological-
transactional development. The first tradition, led mainly by sociologists, examines
the relationship between geographic concentrations of social problems and social
processes within neighborhoods thought to contribute to social control, such as
network ties, shared norms, collective efficacy, institutional resources, and routines
(Sampson et al. 2002). Social workers and sociologists as far back as the early 1900s
have repeatedly documented “the tendency for delinquent and neglected children to
concentrate geographically in a common set of Chicago neighborhoods” (Testa and
Furstenberg 2002, p. 238). More recently, the focus has turned to the consequences of
concentrated poverty in central city neighborhoods and the accompanying social
isolation from mainstream influences and opportunities as a factor in a number of
poor outcomes for children (Brooks-Gunn et al. 1997; Furstenberg et al. 1999; Small
and Newman 2001; Wilson 1987). The strength of the social disorganization tradition
is that it describes some of the specific social structures and process within neighbor-
hoods that may be related to problem behaviors such as family violence, delinquency
and dropping out of school and provides some explanation as to how social structure
and process are related. However, social disorganization theory provides little spec-
ificity about how these neighborhood characteristics might influence the processes of
child and family development.
The second tradition, led by developmental psychologists, examines how child

development and parenting are influenced by the environment, including neighbor-
hoods (Belsky 1993; Belsky and Jaffee 2006; Bronfenbrenner et al. 1984; Cicchetti
and Lynch 1993; Garbarino 1977). The developmental/ecological/transactional
model views child well-being within a system of risk and protective factors
interacting across four levels: the individual or ontogenic level, the family or
microsystem level, the exosystem (which includes neighborhoods), and the social
or macrosystem. The strength of this approach is that it describes some of the specific
ways the environment may influence the transactions between parents and children
and between families and their neighborhoods. However, the ecological-transactional
model provides limited explanation about how neighborhood conditions and social
processes influence these transactions and about how and why these neighborhood
conditions and processes occur.
Drawing on both of these theoretical traditions, and now incorporating
additional perspectives from community psychology, geography, epidemiology,
political science, and economics, there has been a virtual explosion in research
devoted to the question of neighborhood effects. In fact, a recent tally of published
articles using the term neighborhood effects (van Ham et al. 2012) shows that the
yearly output has grown almost 20-fold since the publication of William J. Wilson’s
(1987) influential book, The Truly Disadvantaged, which documented the profound
impact of extreme poverty neighborhoods on Chicago residents. A large portion of
these studies focus on children, examining a wide range of outcomes related to their
health and development. While much of the early research focused on the high rates
of negative outcomes for children living in high-poverty areas (Brooks-Gunn et al.
1997; Furstenberg et al. 1999), a massive accumulation of more recent studies
examined the effects of numerous neighborhood conditions and processes on
multiple dimensions of child well-being across the economic spectrum. The
major study findings have been summarized in several review papers, and the
details will not be repeated here (Ellen and Turner 1997; Ellen et al. 2001;
Leventhal and Brooks-Gunn 2003; Leventhal and Brooks-Gunn 2000; Pickett and
Pearl 2001; Sampson et al. 2002; Sellstr€om and Bremberg 2006). However, several
conclusions of these reviews will serve as the point of departure for our discussion
which follows.
First, there is no simple answer about whether there are neighborhood effects on
child well-being because the findings are not necessarily uniform across subgroups
and child developmental stages and are sensitive to how neighborhood attributes
are defined and measured. The reviews suggest that conclusions about neighbor-
hood effects differ depending on what neighborhood attributes are the predictors
and on what particular indicators of child well-being are the outcomes. Even with
regard to the most commonly studied neighborhood attribute, the socioeconomic
composition of the households residing in the place, the net effects are found to vary
from modest to nonexistent depending on the particular aspect of well-being
selected as outcome and how the socioeconomic composition of households is
defined. For example, the presence of affluent neighbors has been found to hold
explanatory power for better cognitive development, while presence of low-income
neighbors is a more reliable predictor of child and adolescent behavioral problems

(Leventhal and Brooks-Gunn 2003). Thus, although there now seems to be
a preponderance of evidence that children living in disadvantaged neighborhoods
suffer some negative consequences to their well-being, the magnitude and distri-
bution of the influence is unclear. We do not know, for example, whether there are
thresholds of neighborhood distress that need to be present before children are
harmed (Galster et al. 2000), or how other factors in the family or neighborhood
may serve to buffer or exacerbate the deleterious outcomes.
A second conclusion from the reviews of the neighborhood effects literature is
that methodological challenges limit the interpretability of results. Ecological
studies have shown fairly robust correlations between neighborhood socioeconomic
measures and child outcomes such as child maltreatment rates, maternal and child
health indicators, and juvenile delinquency (Coulton and Pandey 1992; Coulton
and Korbin 1995). However, these statistical patterns cannot be interpreted as
neighborhood effects on individuals due to the well-known ecological fallacy.
A growing number of neighborhood effects studies, therefore, utilize a multilevel
design in which individual subjects are nested within neighborhoods (Sampson
et al. 2002; Sellstr€om and Bremberg 2006). This allows the influence of individual
and neighborhood factors to be modeled jointly as well as disentangled.
While multilevel models have advanced the field methodologically, they remain
vulnerable to one major issue that continues to be of great concern – the problem of
neighborhood selection or endogeneity (Duncan et al. 2004). Selection can
lead to invalid conclusions because households are not randomly assigned to
neighborhoods, but are located there due to a variety of factors, such as their
economic situations, social networks, housing preferences, employment locations,
needs of their children, and so forth. If these factors are correlated with neighbor-
hood attributes, the estimate of neighborhood effects based on the observational
study is likely to be biased. Even though multilevel statistical models control for
individual and family characteristics, they cannot control for unmeasured factors
that may be determinative of neighborhood selection. Moreover, by introducing
large numbers of statistical controls, some of which may themselves be endogenous
to neighborhood (e.g., if living in an economically isolated neighborhood has
limited the earning power of the households), such models may further bias the
neighborhood effects estimates. The social experiment in which neighborhood
locations are induced through some random process is considered by many experts
to be the ideal solution to this problem (Ludwig et al. 2008).
The Moving to Opportunity (MTO) experiment was designed, in part, to
overcome the selection problems thought to plague much the neighborhood effects
research (Goering 2003; Orr et al. 2003). Residents of public housing in five
cities were offered an opportunity to be randomized into: (1) a treatment group
that received a housing voucher and counseling to help residents move to
a neighborhood with less than 10 % poverty, (2) a group that received a housing
choice voucher that could be used anywhere (Section 8 control), or (3) a control
group that did not receive a voucher at all. Numerous studies have been published
from follow-up data collected 4–7 years after randomization to assess the impact of
the treatment (i.e., a voucher to move to a low-poverty neighborhood) on many

outcome measures for children and adolescents in these households. With respect to
educational outcomes, there were no significant differences in test scores between
children in the control and treatment groups (Sanbonmatsu et al. 2006). Some
positive effects of moving to a low-poverty neighborhood on behavioral outcomes
were found for female adolescents, but not for male youth (Kling et al. 2005).
And despite the treatment group living in higher quality housing and lower
crime neighborhoods, no significant differences were found for children’s
health outcomes.
Given that the MTO treatment group ended up in neighborhoods that were much
less poor than the control group, these weak impact estimates on child well-being
measures were surprising, and the experiment has engendered vigorous debates
(Briggs et al. 2008; Clark 2008; Ludwig et al. 2008; Sampson 2008). Several of the
critiques point out elements of the MTO program that are pertinent to its implica-
tions for a place-based understanding of child well-being. While on one hand the
experiment represents a clear contrast between the originating neighborhoods that
were extremely poor public-housing estates and the destination neighborhoods
that were private market rentals in low-poverty areas, experimental constraints
pose many limits on its generalizability to the question of whether there are
neighborhood effects. The children, many of whom spent their early years in public
housing, brought the neighborhood effects of that experience into their interactions
with their new neighborhoods. The findings, therefore, demonstrate neither the
cumulative effect of growing up in a nonpoor neighborhood nor the consequences
from a life course perspective. And because the families originated in public
housing, which represents only a select proportion of the urban poor families, the
findings cannot tell us what would have happened to low-income families that
were living in private market housing or less extreme poverty neighborhoods. Also,
the destination neighborhoods of the MTO treatment group are not representative of
low-poverty neighborhoods. The treatment group could only move to places
where their housing vouchers would be accepted, and these were a limited set of
low-poverty areas – more likely to have multifamily housing and rental vacancies
than the typical area. Moreover, most of the families stayed within the same central
city school systems that they started in (Briggs et al. 2008). Finally, most of the
analysis of MTO has focused on average treatment effects, which do not take into
account differential responses within subgroups of children or the influence of the
urban context as represented by the five very different cities (Baltimore, Boston,
Chicago, New York, and Los Angeles) where the experiment took place. However,
there is emerging evidence that the strength of MTO treatment impact is dependent
on the wider metropolitan context and conditional on a number of individual and
contextual factors, which are difficult to disentangle within the scope of the
experiment (Burdick-Will et al. 2010; De Luca et al. 2012).
A third conclusion based on the reviews is that the literature has been overly
focused on simply determining whether there are neighborhood effects rather than
identifying the mechanisms that are responsible (Ellen and Turner 1997; Galster
2011; Sampson et al. 2002; Shinn and Toohey 2003). Particularly with respect to
child well-being, it is crucial to understand not only the neighborhood attributes that
are important but how they operate in order to formulate policies or recommenda-
tions. However, there are a multitude of neighborhood attributes, often correlated
with socioeconomic disadvantage, that may affect child well-being alone or in
combination. Moreover, some of these neighborhood characteristics affect children
directly, while others have an indirect effect through their influence on parents,
teachers, peers, or organizations with which the child interacts. Several potential
pathways of neighborhood influence on child well-being are proposed below.
Social Interaction Processes: The first pathway of neighborhood influence
occurs through social interaction processes, either due to direct social experiences
of the child or transmitted indirectly through parent experiences. Social interac-
tion can transmit information, model behaviors, shape expectations and values,
engender relationships, and provide a social setting that either enhances or
undermines child well-being. For example, children in poor neighborhoods may
lack contact with mainstream role models, face limited options for positive social
activities, or be exposed to delinquent peers. Parents may face a dearth of contacts
for information on child development or be unable to count on their neighbors to
help one another or engage in community activities (Elliott et al. 1996; Leventhal
and Brooks-Gunn 2000; Sampson et al. 2002; Wilson 1987). Neighborhoods with
high residential instability may undermine the degree to which parents are
acquainted with their children’s friends and families. Such parental ties have
been shown to foster parental support and monitoring of their children,
a process that contributes to child well-being (Aneshensel and Sucoff 1996;
Cantillon 2006).
Collective Efficacy and Social Control: Conceptually, neighborhoods have
emergent social properties that may rest upon but are distinct from the interactions
among individuals. Collective efficacy is one such property that has shown consis-
tent positive impact on numerous child well-being indicators (Sampson et al. 1999).
It is made up of social cohesion and the shared expectation of control held by the
neighborhood collectively (Sampson 2012; Sampson et al. 1997). Theoretically and
empirically, it has been linked to the ability of the collective to control behaviors
and conditions in their midst (i.e., social control), as clearly evidenced by its inverse
relation to crime and violence levels (Sampson et al. 1997). Exposure to disorder
and violence within the neighborhood is an important pathway of influence on child
well-being (Margolin and Gordis 2000; Sharkey 2010).
Institutional Capacity: Places also differ in their institutional and political
resources. The structure of local governments and jurisdictions is intertwined
with power and wealth differentials that favor some locations over others (Dreier
et al. 2001). In particular, processes of economic and racial segregation deprive
low-income children and children of color of opportunities because fewer resources
flow to the places where they live (Altshuler et al. 1999; Sampson and Sharkey
2008). Differences in the quality of public schools (Duncan and Murnane 2011;
Nelson and Sheridan 2009), child care centers, youth development programs, and
other child-serving institutions are all markers of place-based inequalities in child
well-being.
Environmental Exposures: Another reason for place-based differences in child

well-being relates to variation in environmental quality and amenities. Deteriorated
housing, which tends to be concentrated in specific locations, has been linked to
poor health and educational outcomes for children (Mueller and Tighe 2007). This
includes exposure to lead, mold, and the dangers of vacant and abandoned housing.
Aspects of healthy living, such as physical activity and healthy eating, are also
influenced by the neighborhood’s built environment (Burdette and Hill 2008;
Burdette and Whitaker 2004; Fein et al. 2004). Locations of playgrounds, parks,
and safe places to walk can contribute to local variation in indicators of child well-
being (Weiss et al. 2011). Similarly, the presence of fast food restaurants and
alcohol outlets is an aspect of the built environment that has negative effects on
measures of child health and development (Burdette and Whitaker 2004; Freisthler
et al. 2005; Freisthler and Weiss 2008). In recent years, a constellation of place-
based determinants of child obesity have been found to occur through their impact
on activity level, recreational outlets, nutrition, and travel patterns (Matthews 2012).
Spatial Proximity: Neighborhood influences on child well-being do not stop at the
neighborhood boundary, and spillover effects from nearby places must be considered.
The spatial location within the broader geography is also important. For example,
locations of job opportunities are not uniform, and spatial mismatch diminishes
employment success especially for inner city youth who live far away from jobs in
the suburbs (Houston 2005; Howell-Moroney 2005). Similarly, the distance of
children’s and families’ residences from social services can be a barrier to utilization
(Allard et al. 2003; Joassart-Marcelli and Giordano 2006). Another illustration is the
negative effects on health that have been attributed to the long distances some low-
income families must travel to reach grocery stores that carry fresh foods (Larson
et al. 2009; Rundle et al. 2009). Local indicators of spatial access to resources and
services are additional aspects of a place-based understanding of child well-being.
44.4 Residential Mobility and Neighborhood Selection
The discussion thus far may seem to imply that the effects of place on child well-
being are contemporaneous and one-directional. However, households move fairly
frequently, and neighborhoods change as a result of housing unit turnover as well as
exogenous factors. It is the cumulative effect of the neighborhood context over
childhood that is likely to affect well-being in addition to what is observed at a point
in time. Moreover, when households relocate, their neighborhood choices may be
limited by a number of factors, in some ways predetermining whether their children
will be better or worse off in their new locations. Thus, the well-being of some
children is diminished due to the barriers their families face in seeking places that
provide the context that children need to develop and thrive. In this section, we
discuss the implications of residential mobility for understanding neighborhood
effects on child well-being. Additionally, we consider the factors that determine
where families are able to move and suggest how a place-based perspective reveals
how neighborhood stratification systematically disadvantages some children.
Families do not stay put. Approximately 12 % of US households move yearly,

and residential mobility rates are higher among low-income households, renters, and
younger families. Residential mobility can reflect positive changes in a family’s
circumstances, such as buying a home for the first time, moving to be close to a new
job, or trading up to a larger or better-quality house or apartment. But mobility
can also be a symptom of instability and insecurity, with many low-income house-
holds making short-distance moves because of problems with landlords, creditors, or
housing conditions. Similarly, staying in place sometimes reflects a family’s secu-
rity, satisfaction, and stability with its home and neighborhood surroundings, while
in other cases it may reflect lack of family resources to move to better housing or
to a preferred neighborhood (Gramlich et al. 1992; South et al. 2005). For example,
a study of disadvantaged neighborhoods in 10 cities found that only about one
third of movers left for better places, while two thirds simply moved nearby to
similarly distressed circumstances. Likewise, approximately two thirds of those who
remained in place were reluctant stayers, while only about one third were satisfied
with their situation (Coulton et al. 2009).
The life course perspective views residential mobility as just one of a number of
interrelated aspects of human development. From this point of view, moving or
staying put is related to other life events such as marriage or divorce, birth of
children, children leaving home or attending college, change of employer, income
or assets, and retirement. A number of studies have found that these life events are
potential triggers of mobility (Clark and Huang 2003; Clark and Ledwith 2006;
van Ham and Clark 2009). These events can result in dissatisfaction with the current
house, such as when a growing family needs more space, or may change
the household’s aspirations, such as when a better job leads to increased status
expectations. Moreover, home ownership or residential stability may become more
or less salient at particular stages of life, such as marriage, birth of a child, or
retirement. These life events tend to be correlated with a number of demographic
characteristics such as age, gender, race or ethnicity, and socioeconomic status,
which are also associated with the probability of residential mobility.
Neighborhood attachment and social ties may serve as deterrents to residential
mobility or influence the distance that a household moves. In a study that identified
movers by asking residents how long they had lived in their neighborhood, good
neighborhood quality and high levels of social ties were found to retard leaving
the neighborhood (Dawkins 2006). Social ties were found to have a stronger
limiting effect on residential mobility among low-income compared to high-income
families. Attachment to the neighborhood may also affect where households move and
how they adjust to their new surroundings. A study of Seattle movers found that
households that moved a shorter distance (i.e., stayed in the same census tract) showed
higher post-move neighborhood attachment. Also, households that moved for family
reasons showed lower attachment to their new neighborhood than did households that
moved to improve their housing or neighborhood surroundings (Bolan 1997).
Frequent or involuntary residential mobility may have negative consequences for
child well-being (Jelleyman and Spencer 2008). Studies show that frequent moving
during childhood undermines educational attainment (Wood and Halfon 1993).
Relocating may disrupt social ties and undermine social capital of the family (Briggs
1997), with particularly disruptive effects on children whose parents provide only
modest levels of emotional support and involvement (Hagan et al. 1996). Neighbor-
hood quality may be another factor affecting the success of the move. For example,
teenagers who recently moved into distressed neighborhoods had higher dropout
rates than those who had lived there a longer time (Crowder and South 2003), but
teenagers who moved from poverty areas to middle-class neighborhoods established
positive ties in their new locations (Pettit 2004).
Although most of the literature has focused on explaining the likelihood that
households will move, there is also evidence that some households face barriers to
effective residential mobility. In particular, racial segregation and racial inequities
may undermine the chances that people of color can move to satisfactory housing and
neighborhoods. A US study of structural barriers to residential mobility found that
once life cycle factors and neighborhood and housing satisfaction were held constant,
African American households had a lower probability of moving than did White
households. While neighborhood dissatisfaction predicted residential movement
among Whites, it was the opposite among African Americans, with African American
homeowners who judged their neighborhoods to be only fair as compared to excellent
less likely to move than Whites who expressed similar levels of dissatisfaction (South
and Deane 1993; South and Crowder 1997; South et al. 2005). This pattern suggests
that many African Americans remain in housing units or neighborhoods that they
judge to be unsatisfactory due to various social and economic barriers to movement.
Moreover, studies demonstrate African Americans are less likely than any other ethnic
group to move to better neighborhoods, despite gains in education and income that
permit other groups to move up and out (Logan et al. 1996; Sharkey 2008).
Beyond looking at any single residential move, there is the need to take
a longitudinal perspective on children’s neighborhood surroundings in order to
appreciate the total impact on well-being. For example, a longitudinal study that
followed children from age 1 to 17 estimated the impact of the cumulative exposure
to neighborhood disadvantage on high school graduation to be much stronger than
other studies that only examined the short-term neighborhood impacts (Wodtke
et al. 2011). Another longitudinal study that modeled the effect of living in
disadvantaged neighborhoods over the ages of 6 through 12 on cognitive ability
found similarly strong and negative effects (Sampson et al. 2008). These studies
suggest that if families were able to lessen the amount of time that children spend
in disadvantaged neighborhoods, they could reduce the chances of negative effects
on well-being. However, the chances of escaping to better neighborhoods are much
more limited for some groups than others. There is evidence that children growing
up in poor neighborhoods have a high chance of also living in a poor neighborhood
as adults and presumably carrying that disadvantage to their own offspring
(Sharkey 2008). Overall, in metropolitan areas that are racially segregated and
stratified on income, both movers and stayers tend to replicate the existing patterns
(Sampson and Sharkey 2008), making it more likely that African American
children, and Hispanic children to a lesser degree, will remain in disadvantaged
neighborhood circumstances even when their families relocate (Graif 2012).
44.5 Neighborhoods, Agency, and Bidirectional Influence
As stated in the introduction, children and families are not merely exposed to the
attributes of a place; they exercise their agency and actively shape their experience
of neighborhood in a variety of ways, in essence influencing the context of
neighborhood. In other words, the relationship between children (and families)
and neighborhoods is bidirectional. The pathways of this relationship are multiple,
complex, and still largely in need of clarification. In this section, we describe
two such pathways: a direct “community-engagement” pathway and the less straight-
forward, “perceptions-driven” pathway of bidirectional neighborhood change.
Community-Engagement Pathway: Direct community engagement is an obvious
process through which individuals may actively influence their neighborhoods,
both by shaping their own subjective experiences and improving neighborhood
conditions objectively. Families that are involved in their community through civic
action, volunteer work, or memberships in associations and organizations report
higher levels of social trust and access to community resources than those who lack
such connections (Paxton 1999; Putnam 2000). Also, individuals who participate in
civic affairs, volunteer work, and community associations have more positive
attitudes toward working with youth in their communities (Scales et al. 2001).
Additionally, social involvement in the community has shown positive effects on
parenting, especially for African American mothers (Hill and Herman-Stahl 2002).
Community engagement is not limited to adults. Although their space of action
or influence may be limited by their status in society (Ansell 2009), the potential
contribution of children and youth to shape their local surroundings through various
forms of civic or community participation has been noted for decades (Lynch
1977). Children have contributed meaningfully to urban planning and neighbor-
hood development activities (Francis and Lorenzo 2002; Hart 1997; Knowles-
Yánez 2005) and have functioned as change agents to increase community-level
efficacy to reduce disease (Jayawardene et al. 2011; Kamo et al. 2008; Onyango-
Ouma et al. 2005). Moreover, as participatory and action research frameworks have
gained ground in issues related to child well-being and development, the need for
children and youth to be incorporated into such designs has become increasingly
apparent because they are, regardless of adult opinion, experts on being children
and youth in contemporary society (Checkoway 2011).
Perceptions-Driven Pathway: There is a sizeable body of research examining
parent or adult perceptions of neighborhood characteristics and features.
The smaller, yet growing scientific literature on children’s neighborhood percep-
tions has included a range of qualities and characteristics: for example, safe versus
dangerous neighborhood features, neighborhood likes and dislikes, neighborhood
social and institutional resources (Anthony and Nicotera 2008; Bass and Lambert
2004; Bjorklid 1985; Farver et al. 2000; Hart 1979; Lane 2009; Lynch 1977;
Morrow 2001; Nayak 2003; Nicotera 2008; Plunkett et al. 2007; Schiavo 1988;
Van Vliet 1981), as well as perceptions about neighborhood spatial boundaries
(Aitken 1994; Burton and Price-Spratlen 1999; Gaster 1995; Ladd 1970; Matthews
1992; Maurer and Baxter 1972; Spilsbury 2005a; Spilsbury et al. 2009).
Research on neighborhoods and residents’ behavior indicates that residents’

perceptions of neighborhood conditions influence their behavior. One example is
the effect of perceptions of neighborhood safety on parental strategies for monitor-
ing or controlling children’s behavior. The literature suggests that mothers who
perceive their neighborhoods as less safe may engage in harsher forms of control
over their children (Hill et al. 2005) or set more limits on their children’s neigh-
borhood activities via enacting curfews (Roche et al. 2005), chaperoning (Outley
and Floyd 2002), forbidding contact with specific neighborhood peers (Clark 1983),
keeping children at home as much as possible (Furstenberg et al. 1999), or sending
children out of the neighborhood to live and play (Jarrett 1997). In the MTO
experiment, mothers who moved to safer neighborhoods gradually reduced their
intense monitoring of children and allowed them greater freedom to circulate in
their new neighborhoods (Kling et al. 2005). In our own research in Cleveland, OH,
on children’s “home range” (the spatial dimensions of where a child is allowed to
play in the neighborhood), mothers living in higher violence neighborhoods
severely restricted the spatial mobility of their 10–11-year-old daughters because
of concerns about neighborhood dangers, resulting in a substantially smaller home
range for these girls than that of similarly aged boys in the higher violence
neighborhoods, as well as those of both girls and boys in lower violence neighbor-
hoods (Spilsbury 2005a).
Like adults, children exercise agency in responding to their neighborhood
perceptions. For example, in response to perceived neighborhood dangers, children
may engage in strategies to minimize these dangers, such as traveling in groups or
avoiding risky locations (Berg and Medrich 1980; Hart 1979; Holaday et al. 1997;
Percy-Smith and Matthews 2001; Watt et al. 1998). Our research in Cleveland
(Spilsbury and Korbin 2004; Spilsbury 2002) on the help-seeking behavior of 7–11-
year-old children living in neighborhoods with different profiles of violence and
crime revealed a repertoire of strategies to obtain assistance that did not compro-
mise the children’s safety: asking only persons of known identity, refusing the
offered assistance of strange adult, limiting the assistance provided by a stranger
(e.g., accepting only the stranger’s offer to telephone the child’s family), and
seeking out the assistance of “safer” individuals, such as the elderly, persons in
uniform or wearing badges, or a mother with children or with a baby carriage.
Children also highlighted the use neighborhood institutions and establishments
such as the local public school, library branch, or store as resources for a variety of
problems or concerns (Spilsbury 2005b). Interviews with staff of these institutions
and establishments revealed that the staff took on additional roles and altered their
operations to accommodate children’s needs. For example, school crossing guards
provided children in need with mittens and hats. Librarians functioned as coun-
selors, mediators, and protectors against bullies. Some librarians developed extra
after-school programs or let children help with tasks like stamping cards in order to
handle the influx of “latchkey” children every afternoon after school. Similarly, one
neighborhood video store’s layout included a large screen and comfortable chairs,
where “latchkey” children might watch a movie in comfort until parents returned
home from work.
The study of children’s help-seeking revealed that children were not merely
passive recipients of adult generosity, but individuals actively interacting with their
local neighborhood environments, interpreting characteristics of the setting,
weighing alternatives, and acting in a manner the children believed secured
a better, safer outcome. As children developed relationships with these staff, and
the staff become more attuned to children’s needs, we suggest that the children were
in effect developing their own social capital, increasing the collective efficacy of
their neighborhood to care for children, and thereby changing the neighborhood
context in which they live.
In short, both the example of parents’ strategies to control or monitor children
and that of children’s help-seeking strategies are typically viewed as perception-
driven responses to neighborhood conditions. However, what we highlight here is
that such actions could also be interpreted as mitigating neighborhood exposure and
influencing the neighborhood context as experienced by the child. In other words,
adults and children respond to their neighborhood perceptions in ways that may
change the neighborhood context: a bidirectional relationship.
Of course, even within a single neighborhood, there is likely to be considerable
individual variation in the strategies parents devise to resist difficult neighborhood
circumstances. One case in point comes from a qualitative study of how parenting
strategies influenced children’s leisure time in a single neighborhood found a wide
range of strategies (Outley and Floyd 2002). Some parents severely restricted their
children’s activities to the home or nearby locations which the parent could readily
supervise. Other parents aggressively sought out programs that provided a sense of
safety despite the poor conditions in their immediate surroundings. Still other
parents relied on their community social connections and networks for assistance.
Besides variation among individual parents, there may be ethnic differences in
how neighborhood conditions are interpreted and linked to behavior. A study of
Chicago neighborhoods showed that African Americans had a higher tolerance than
Whites for neighborhood problems indicative of disorder such as graffiti, vacant
houses, and disruptive teenagers (Sampson and Raudenbush 2004). Moreover, in
this study, neighborhoods with a predominately African American population were
perceived by outsiders as having more disorder than predominantly White neigh-
borhoods, even after controlling for objective signs of disorder. These findings are
consistent with other studies that have reported a greater tendency of Whites to
overstate the level of problems in neighborhoods, especially if the population
includes non-Whites (Charles 2000), while African Americans tend to view these
neighborhoods more favorably (Krysan 2002). Moreover, studies have shown that
Whites and African Americans have different comfort levels with respect to
the racial mix of neighborhoods, with Whites favoring neighborhoods that are
predominately White, and African Americans inclined toward neighborhoods
with a more equal distribution of African American and White residents
(Charles 2000; Krysan and Farley 2002).
Variations in the responses of racial or ethnic groups to their neighborhood
surroundings may also reflect their past experiences. For example, after finding
that neighborhood instability predicted negative child outcomes in White but not
African American neighborhoods, our qualitative study (Korbin et al. 1998) found
that residents of a White neighborhood viewed the residential turnover as an
unwelcome invasion of outsiders. Conversely, residents of the African American
neighborhood believed the newcomers to be mainly adult children of current or
former residents, who were now moving back to the city, reflecting a positive
trajectory for the neighborhood. Similarly, another study found that neighborhood
stability protected against psychological distress in affluent neighborhoods but had
the opposite effect in poor neighborhoods due to residents feeling powerless
to escape from the dangerous and deteriorated surroundings in poor but stable
neighborhoods (Ross et al. 2000). Ethnic variation in responses to neighborhood
conditions can also be seen in the finding that many African American women were
resilient in the face of social disorder in their community because they could draw
on their personal resources (Cutrona et al. 2000).
Collectively, these results suggest that the neighborhood context may exert
complicated and possibly offsetting influences on parents and their children with
respect to their well-being. This diversity of responses, all conditioned to some
degree on adverse neighborhood circumstances, suggests that neighborhood effects
on well-being differ depending on the social resources of the family, their appraisal
of their surroundings, and how they view themselves relative to the social structure
of the neighborhood. Given the racial and ethnic segregation and stratification in
this society, any of these factors may be correlated with race. This suggests
that a place-based understanding of child well-being has to acknowledge that the
effects of place are heterogeneous and depend upon the wider context and
the different experiences of groups and individuals that shape their response to
their surroundings.
44.6 Implications for Policy
The predominant policy and programmatic approaches to reducing place-based

disparities in child well-being make varying assumptions about and are linked to
(some more strongly than others) specific processes and dynamics discussed above:
for example, social interaction, institutional capacity, residential mobility, and
community engagement. The approaches can be divided into four broad categories:
(1) residential mobility programs that give low-income families the means to move
to more affluent areas, (2) mixed-income developments that replace public or social
housing projects with units for both subsidized and unsubsidized households,
(3) community change initiatives that engage residents and community-based
organizations to improve neighborhood conditions, and (4) area-based services
that saturate the neighborhood with high-quality programs that promote child
development.
Residential mobility programs have received considerable attention, mainly in
the USA, but also in Western Europe (Stal and Zuberi 2010). In the best-known
programs, public-housing residents have been offered housing rental vouchers
and other assistance so that they can move to private market housing units in
middle-class neighborhoods. The Moving to Opportunity experiment that moved

many households to low-poverty neighborhoods (Ludwig et al. 2008) and the
Gautreaux housing program that enabled previous public-housing residents to
move to suburban locations (Rosenbaum and DeLuca 2008) have been studied
extensively because they utilized research designs with a strong counterfactual.
While these programs overcame some of the economic barriers to neighborhood
selection, many families who were offered vouchers were not able to find a suitable
rental, and those who did move were still constrained by the legacy of racial
segregation and inequality (Briggs et al. 2008; Sampson 2008). Although those
families that relocated with a voucher improved their neighborhood context as
measured by neighborhood poverty rates, it is not clear that children and families
experienced other mechanisms thought to be responsible for the association
between neighborhood and child well-being such as better access to better schools
and services or social relationships with neighbors that could get them ahead
(DeLuca and Rosenblatt 2010; Ferryman et al. 2008). Thus, the effects on child
well-being were mixed and varied depending on age, gender, and the particular
marker of well-being under consideration (Orr et al. 2003). Moreover, there was
considerable variation in whether movers engaged with their new neighborhoods or
continued their involvement with people and organizations from previous locations
(Varady and Walker 2003), suggesting that individual agency is at play in shaping
the degree to which residential mobility programs appreciably change the social
context that is actually experienced by children.
In cities across North America and Western Europe, policy makers are turning to
mixed-income development – the construction or conversion of housing develop-
ments with a mix of subsidized and market-rate homes and apartments – as a means
of deconcentrating urban poverty (Joseph et al. 2007; Kearns 2002; Musterd and
Andersson 2005; Sautkina et al. 2012). In many instances, high-density public
housing is being torn down or social housing estates are converted by private
developers in concert with local authorities. Mixed-income development rests on
the theory that low-income children will benefit from exposure to more affluent
neighbors and to the resources and amenities that affluent neighbors attract (Joseph
et al. 2007). However, a tension exists in this movement due to the concern that
market-driven development will benefit the middle class and affluent at the expense
of the most disadvantaged, with low-income residents eventually pushed out
(Chaskin and Joseph 2012). Moreover, if low-income residents are marginalized,
the promised spillover benefits to their children of living among more affluent
households are unlikely to occur. Indeed, evidence indicates that many residents
who are displaced are not comfortable returning to the new developments
or encounter difficulties achieving social integration when they do return (Joseph
and Chaskin 2010). Thus, despite returnee’s satisfaction with improved housing and
safety, it appears that social stratification and individual perceptions are barriers
to the kind of social interactions that could improve outcomes for low-income
children in mixed-income developments.
Community change initiatives attempt to strengthen neighborhoods from
within, with the goal bettering the conditions for families and children in place.
The framers of these initiatives generally believe that neighborhood transformation

depends on developing local, neighborhood-level capacity to define and implement
responses to local needs on a sustained basis (Kingsley et al. 1997; Stagner and
Duran 1997). Residents and local organizations are enlisted as a driving force, and
this is thought to be a key ingredient to raising collective efficacy and restoring
the social fabric of disadvantaged communities (Wallace 2007). There is ample
evidence that communities with high levels of activities and organizations
that connect children with caring adults are beneficial to child well-being (Scales
et al. 2001). However, it has been difficult to determine whether community change
initiatives can generate these types of connections on a large enough scale to offset
the negative effect of distressed neighborhoods on child well-being. Part of the
problem is that community change initiatives are notoriously difficult to evaluate
because they are saturation programs that evolve over time, defying efforts to
implement standard measurements or convincing counterfactuals (Auspos and
Kubisch 2004; Chaskin 2003; Hollister and Hill 1995). Moreover, many of the
initiatives focus on physical redevelopment and empowerment, areas that may have
a more indirect effect on child well-being. Finally, high levels of residential
mobility in the targeted areas can limit children’s exposure to the improvements
that do occur, and if more experienced residents move out, it becomes difficult to
sustain the capacity for community action that has been built (Coulton et al. 2009).
Place-based service approaches are typically initiated from outside the neigh-
borhood, from government or nonprofit agencies that recognize that service
needs are unmet or that current approaches are ineffective. They typically target
specific problems (e.g., educational failure or ill health) and populations (e.g.,
young children or adolescents). They differ markedly in what problems are
targeted, whether they are preventive or treatment oriented, and their structure
and the degree to which community residents are involved in shaping the pro-
grams. There are numerous examples around the world of initiatives that have
engaged community agencies and leaders in collaborations to address the needs
of children across a variety of domains. Sure Start is one example from the
United Kingdom that has been carefully evaluated. Local authorities and resi-
dents of disadvantaged areas worked together with a variety of agencies to reach
out to families of young children and to provide them the early education and
other services they needed to succeed in school (Belsky et al. 2006; Melhuish
et al. 2008). Another example is a recent federal program in the USA known as
Promise Neighborhoods. This initiative knits together community resources and
high-quality educational institutions to provide a “cradle to college or career”
continuum for children in disadvantaged neighborhoods (Whitehurst and Croft
2010). The articulation of an unambiguous end point such as school readiness or
college matriculation for a defined population is a key element that drives the
collaboration and effectiveness of these place-based service initiatives. With
respect to their overall impact on the well-being of children, a limitation of
place-based services is that they do not directly target many of the mechanisms
of influence such as the physical surroundings, geographic accessibility, or
social processes. Moreover, high levels of residential mobility mean that many
children may not experience a sufficient dose of services to benefit from the
continuum that is being provided (Silver et al. 2012).
The four strategies – residential mobility, mixed-income development, commu-
nity change initiatives, and place-based services – can all be seen as responding to
the problem of place-based disparities in family and child well-being. But they have
varying assumptions about what the important elements of neighborhood are that
affect outcomes for residents, and they differ in the likelihood that they will change
the context of any single community to enhance children’s well-being. In fact, each
approach seems to have greatest promise to reverse at least one of the problematic
elements that undermine the well-being of families and children in distressed
neighborhoods, but perhaps have lesser impact on some of the others. Community
change initiatives, for example, emphasize building resident and organizational
capacity through social connections within the neighborhood and with external
resources. Their work is directly targeted toward strengthening social capital and
enriching the positive social influences within the community. Residential mobility
programs are successful at moving poor families to areas that have better housing
and higher levels of social control. The strongest effects to date are that those
families that move to middle-class neighborhoods perceive much higher levels of
neighborhood safety and housing quality and that this reduces stress levels for
parents and children. Area-based service models have demonstrated that they can
give residents of poor neighborhoods access to important and high-quality
resources, such as schools, child care, youth programs, and health services, that
residents would otherwise lack, including services geared toward prevention rather
than after the fact remediation. Mixed-income development changes the physical
environment for residents, including the housing quality, access to green space and
recreation, and the street layouts. Residential mobility programs also have consid-
erable success in relocating families to less stigmatized neighborhoods, but there is
less direct evidence of lowering stigma for the other types of strategies, although
both mixed income and community change initiatives often aspire to change the
image of the places they target.
Although theory and research are helpful in pointing out the promise and
limitations of each strategy, they do not lead conclusively to favoring one of
these approaches over the other because they have different priorities and are in
many ways complementary. For example, if residential mobility programs are to
have enough housing units for low-income families to move into, more mixed-
income development is needed. And if community change initiatives are going to
be successful in building community capacity to reach goals, this will often require
attracting middle-class residents and improving services and resources in the
neighborhood. Area-based service will be less effective unless the neighborhood
physical and social environment also improves and unless the neighborhood is
attractive enough to keep the beneficiaries of the services from moving away as
soon as they are able.
One policy implication is that multiple approaches may be necessary to optimize
change to improve child well-being. Yet, a challenge to any metropolitan area is to
insure that the various strategies selected are not working at cross purposes.
Unfortunately, local authorities and citizen groups may not always be in control. It is
not uncommon for national foundations or governments to directly fund
neighborhood organizations to implement one of the strategies according to a
national design, without adequate consideration of what else is going on nearby.
Another implication is that authentic involvement of residents and local institutions
is necessary to shape a local agenda for reducing place-based disparities and give
clarity about where, how, and why these various strategies selected to enhance
neighborhood conditions fit together. At the same time, accountability to external
funders is often very helpful in forcing local areas to break out of previously failed
approaches and to challenge vested interests that may have served to preserve the
status quo.
44.7 Conclusions
While there is compelling evidence for place-based disparities in child well-being,

there remain many unanswered questions about the explanations for these dispar-
ities and what can be done to improve neighborhood conditions for children. There
is growing consensus, though, that simple models that attempt to isolate neighbor-
hood characteristics as exogenous causes of child outcomes are inadequate for the
development of practical solutions because the processes are multifaceted, bidirec-
tional, and dynamic. Rather than viewing neighborhood selection as a source of
biased causal estimates, a number of researchers are arguing that residential mobil-
ity over the life course must be understood in tandem with those mechanisms
internal to the neighborhood that affect children and families (Galster 2011;
Hedman and Ham 2012; Sampson 2008). And while residential mobility can partly
be understood as a matter of individual choice, powerful forces that determine
urban social structure, such as racial and economic segregation, must also be taken
into account (Sampson 2008; Sharkey 2008). Moreover, mixed methods researchers
are demonstrating that individual agency is a significant factor in understanding how
individuals respond to the places in which they find themselves, complicating any
simple quantification of neighborhood effects on children because neighborhood-
resident relationships are bidirectional (DeLuca et al. 2012; Small and Feldman
2012). This complexity suggests that efforts to improve child well-being with
respect to neighborhoods must address the processes of how families select and
respond to their residential areas as well as the physical, social, and economic
conditions that they face in their neighborhoods over the various stages of childhood.
It must also be acknowledged that many of the causes of place-based disparities
are not under local control and therefore require national and worldwide attention.
For instance, globalization means that neighborhoods win or lose depending in part
on competition from all over the world. Migration, due to economic and political
factors, is another major force that places pressure on some neighborhoods more
than others. And the dynamics of urbanization and urban sprawl are rapid processes
that are changing the neighborhood landscape and threatening the environment.
While researchers and policy analysts continue to try to understand the microcosm
of the neighborhood and how to make improvements for children, these external
forces and the agency of parents and children must be part of a systemic view.
We end this chapter where we began: where children live clearly matters. Yet, the
attempt to account for this fact theoretically, methodologically, and practically is
daunting. A place-based perspective brings complexity and variability to our efforts
to understand child development and enhance child well-being. Yet, the challenges
posed by a place-based perspective are counterbalanced by the opportunities this
vantage point affords. A place-based perspective holds promise to increase our
understanding of the processes that influence child well-being and illuminate the
mechanisms to be targeted to improve neighborhood conditions. Policies grounded
in this knowledge have a better chance to increase well-being for all children.
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Children’s Social Networks and Well-Being
45
Deborah Belle and Joyce Benenson
45.1 Introduction
We humans are social creatures who rely profoundly on others throughout our lives.
Our deepest joys and most intense sorrows typically stem from our relationships
with other people. Our infants are unable to sustain themselves without near-
constant care, and our children continue to need our nurturance and attention for
many years. Throughout the life span, experiences of social exclusion affect us
emotionally and physiologically. Solitary confinement in our prisons is a form of
punishment and, in fact, a form of torture. We are all people who need other people.
Decades of research have demonstrated that the well-being of children is closely
tied to the cast of characters in their lives. These individuals provide children with
critical resources including information, material assistance, affection, physical
comforting, empathic listening, assistance in problem solving, and reassurance of
worth. Network members support a “repertoire of satisfactory social identities”
(Hirsch 1981, p. 163) that are critical to self-concept and self-esteem. Such
resources, in turn, help to prevent demoralization in times of stress, increase
children’s options when confronting change and loss, and often facilitate a more
active style of problem solving (Sandler et al. 1989). One name for this cast of
characters is the “social network.”
Attending to children’s social networks moves us to consider the child’s rela-
tionships with parents, siblings, and other residents in the household, as well as the
child’s connections with friends, neighbors, teachers, babysitters, and kinfolk who
live elsewhere. The social network construct orients us not only to the child’s direct
D. Belle (*)
Department of Psychology, Boston University, Boston, MA, USA
J. Benenson
Emmanuel College, Boston, MA, USA

1336 D. Belle and J. Benenson
relationships with others but to the interrelationships among this set of people and
to the connections between individuals the child knows well and the networks and
larger social systems in which these individuals and these relationships are, in turn,
embedded (Bronfenbrenner 1979; Small 2009).
Although networks provide individuals with many essential resources, they are
also at times the sources of painful experiences of rejection, hostility, and loss. It is
impossible to receive support from network members without also risking the costs
of disappointment and vicarious pain. Networks can create or exacerbate psycho-
logical distress when network members convey disrespect or disapproval, betray
confidences, or fail to fulfill expectations for friendship and support (Belle 1982a, b;
Benenson and Christakos 2003; Brody 1999). Research with adults that has
separated the social network into supportive and stressful components has found
evidence that the stressful components are actually more strongly related to mental
health status than are the supportive ones (Belle 1982a; Rook 1984).
Since children have a great need for instrumental and emotional resources from
others, it is ironic that the impact of social networks has been studied far more
frequently with adults than with children. In part this may reflect methodological
limitations, as social network research has relied on questionnaire and interview
methods that are most easily suited to the capacities of adults. It may also be that
children’s social networks have been viewed implicitly as derivative from their
parents’ networks and of limited importance in their own right. While developmental
psychologists have been acutely aware of the social needs of children, they have
directed most of their attention to the relationships most central to the child, espe-
cially to the mother-child bond, and have tended to neglect more distal connections.
45.2 Mothers and Others
Mothers are sometimes thought to be the only natural caretakers of infants and
young children or to have been children’s only caretakers until the twentieth-
century rise in maternal employment outside the home necessitated nannies,
babysitters, and day-care centers. Yet a close look at the cross-cultural evidence
from nonindustrial societies proves otherwise, as Wood and Eagly (2002) con-
cluded after their exhaustive review. In the human groups for which we have
evidence, mothers almost always provide more infant care than other people. Yet
in only about half of the nonindustrial societies that have been examined is care of
infants exclusively by the mother, with others having only minimal roles. In early
childhood, after children have begun to walk, mothers are never the exclusive or
almost exclusive caretakers. Beginning at young ages, children are carried by their
older siblings for substantial portions of the day. These older siblings also gather
and prepare food and perform household maintenance activities. In the majority of
the societies for which we have information, young children are away from their
mothers half or more of the time. In fact, older children, especially older girls, are
the primary caretakers and companions of young children in 28% of the
nonindustrial societies reviewed by Weisner and Gallimore (1977).
45 Children’s Social Networks and Well-Being 1337
Hrdy (2009) argues that humans could never have outcompeted our evolutionary
relatives and colonized the planet without our strategy of “cooperative breeding,” in
which others assist mothers in the care, protection, and provisioning of children. It
takes something like 13 million calories to rear a human child from birth to
nutritional independence (Hrdy 2009, p. 31), yet human populations reproduce at
a rapid rate, with younger children often arriving before their older siblings are
anywhere near able to survive on their own. Caring for children and providing them
with the food necessary for survival is a massive undertaking that could not have
been accomplished in our evolutionary past by mothers alone. “Without kin and as-
if kin to help protect and especially to help provision them, few Pleistocene children
could have survived into adulthood” (Hrdy 2009, p. 18). Alone among the Great
Apes, human mothers are assisted with child care and provisioning, allowing our
slow-maturing but rapidly reproducing species to survive and prosper. Helpful
grandmothers, sisters, aunts, husbands, and others make critical contributions to
the survival of individual children and, collectively, to the survival and triumph of
our species.
The dark side of our cooperative breeding strategy, however, is that maternal
investment in children is contingent on adequate provisioning and support to
mothers. When mothers sense that they do not have sufficient support to sustain
themselves and their offspring, they may refrain from investing in children who are
unlikely to prove viable. Choosing not to invest when the chances of success are
small allows for more successful investment in other children at a later time and
may therefore be an evolutionarily wise strategy. Alone among the Great Apes,
human mothers do sometimes abandon infants or cease to provision them ade-
quately when help from others appears inadequate. The high frequency of such
behavior among different human groups in various historical periods has been well
documented (Hrdy 1999, 2009; Scheper-Hughes 1993).
Some of the network connections most significant for children, therefore, are the
networks on which their mothers or other primary caretakers rely. Evolutionary
biologists and anthropologists use the term “alloparent” to refer to those individuals
other than parents who help to care for children and especially to provision them
with food and use the term “allomother” to refer to those other than the mother
(including the father) who provide such assistance (Hrdy 2009). These individuals
are important both because of what they provide directly to children and also
because of the ways in which their support encourages and sustains parents. [See
▶ Chap. 61, “Allomothers and Child Well-Being” for a full discussion of the role of
alloparents in the well-being of children.]
45.3 Gender
Although cooperative breeding is notable for its flexibility and for the range of
individuals who can contribute to the well-being of children, it is also striking that
most of the individuals who actually contribute to the care, protection, and
provisioning of children are female, at least in most known human societies (Hrdy
1999, 2009; Konner 2005, 2010; Whiting and Edwards 1988; Wood and Eagly
2002). In the United States, both boys and girls have more adult females than adult
males in their social networks (Riley and Cochran 1987). The extent of this gender
imbalance in caretaking varies from one society to another and one historical period
to the next and is undoubtedly responsive to changing social norms and economic
realities. Over recent decades, men’s involvement with children has increased
substantially in many western societies. Yet women continue to provide more
day-to-day care and support to children than do men (Hansen 2005; Lareau
2000). Fathers vary widely in whether they contribute to child care (Hewlett
1992; Hewlett and Lamb 2005), and they may serve as compensatory figures
when female kin are not present (Marlowe 2005).
This can be seen as part of a larger pattern in which women are typically more
engaged than are men in the provision of social support to others, as wives, mothers,
“kin keepers” to elderly and infirm relatives, neighbors, and friends, and as profes-
sional support providers, such as nurses, day-care workers, social workers, and
teachers (Belle 1987). This holds true as well in the simplest of hunter-gatherer
societies (Hewlett and Lamb 2005; Konner 2010). Women are named dispropor-
tionately as counselors and companions by both men and women (Fischer 1982)
and as confidants and sources of affirmation and understanding by their own
children, adolescents, and spouses (Belle 1987). Men, however, are named dispro-
portionately as sources of financial aid, particularly older men, and especially
fathers (Fischer 1982).
Across the life cycle, females are also more likely than males to seek out social
support, to receive such support, and to be pleased with the support they receive
(Belle 1987). In one study of 8- to 15-year-old children whose parents had divorced,
Wolchik et al. (1984) found that girls reported more family members who provided
emotional support and positive feedback and more individuals from outside the
family who provided advice, goods and services, and supportive feedback than did
boys. Girls also felt more positively than did boys about the individuals who
provided this support.
These gender differences are hardly surprising, as gender differences in inter-
personal behavior and interpersonal relationships are evident throughout the life
cycle. Females are encouraged to value close relationships and even to define
themselves in terms of the close relationships in which they participate (Belle
1982, 1987; Chodorow 1974; Gilligan 1982; Miller 1976). In contrast, the norms
for appropriate male behavior tend to promote self-reliance and inhibit emotional
expressiveness, self-disclosure, and help-seeking (Belle 1987).
Just as girls and women seem more deeply involved than boys or men in
interpersonal relationships, especially emotionally intimate relationships, girls
and women more than boys and men appear to be more readily upset by difficul-
ties in relationships. Threats to relationships or violations of expectations for
relationships are more likely to lead to anger in women than in men, and girls
more often than boys report anger resulting from interpersonal causes (Brody
1999, p. 225).
45.4 Orphanages and Institutionalized Child Rearing
Research on institutionalized children and others who are separated from their
families provides some of the strongest evidence for the protective power of
family networks in supporting children’s well-being. Brown, Harris, and Bifulco
(1986) found that for women who had experienced the death of a parent in early
childhood, being placed outside the home was associated with a heightened risk
of depression in adulthood. Infants and young children who become detached
from all family contexts and become institutionalized in orphanages frequently
display serious, pervasive delays in physical, neurobiological, cognitive, and
social-emotional development (McCall et al. 2011). If children are moved from
institutions into adoptive or foster families, they generally show immediate and
substantial improvement in all of these domains (McCall et al. 2011). Orphan-
ages vary, of course, in the quality of care they provide, and in some excellent
institutions, children are not deprived of sensitive care. Yet, overall, orphanage
life constitutes a severe risk factor for children (McCall et al. 2011). Since many
children in institutions actually are not orphaned, but have one or more living
parents, there is strong impetus to move such children, if possible, back to live
with family members. Often financial or social support to parents can make the
difference, allowing children to return to the community and to their families
(McCall et al. 2011).
45.5 Parents
Parents are crucial support providers to children. For fifth and sixth graders, parents
are the most frequently named sources of affection, reliable alliance, enhancement
of worth, and instrumental aid (Furman and Buhrmester 1985). A strong relation-
ship with at least one parent has been identified as a protective factor that can buffer
children from the potentially adverse effects of marital discord, parental mental
illness, and social disadvantage (Rutter 1979). Following a major stress, a warm and
consistent relationship with the custodial parent is associated with better adjustment
in children (Sandler et al. 1989). For children whose parents have divorced, a strong
relationship with the noncustodial parent is associated with good adjustment
(Sandler et al. 1989; Wallerstein and Kelly 1980).
In the United States and many other nations, barriers prevent sizeable numbers
of parents from being the kinds of parents they would like to be. US workers now
work more hours per year than workers in any other industrialized nation, and US
jobs increasingly require work in the evening and weekend hours when child care
is particularly hard to arrange (Heymann 2000). Not only are parents often away
at work while their children are out of school, but grandparents, neighbors, and
family friends are also likely to be employed and unavailable to supervise them
(Belle 1999). The United States also has the highest incarceration rate of any
nation in the world, which fractures families and communities across the country
(Liptak 2008).
Nonstandard work schedules may deny employed parents the time and energy
they need to create close relationships with their children. This problem, however,
seems to affect fathers more often than mothers (Davis et al. 2006; Strazdins et al.
2006). Davis et al. found that adolescents whose mothers worked nonstandard shifts
actually reported more relationship intimacy with their mothers than did those
whose mothers worked regular, daytime hours. However, fathers who worked
nonstandard hours knew significantly less about their teenagers’ daily activities
than did fathers who worked daytime shifts.
Parents also play an important role in providing children with opportunities for
other social contacts that can strengthen their social networks. In simply choosing
a neighborhood in which to live, parents affect the child’s access to child-centered
activities, such as clubs and sports teams, day-care or preschool facilities, and other
neighborhood children (Parke and Bhavnagri 1989). Of course, economic limitations
may severely limit the extent to which parents can really exercise such choice. And in
an era in which economic inequality has become more extreme and economic mobility
has become more limited in the United States and many other industrialized nations
(Wilkinson and Pickett 2009), parental financial resources assume even greater
importance for the well-being of children. Economically secure parents, grandparents,
and other relatives are able to provide children with safer neighborhoods and more
educational and enrichment opportunities than their less-advantaged peers receive.
Much research reveals differences in mothers’ and fathers’ relationships with
their sons and daughters (Brody 1999; Youniss and Smollar 1985), and children’s
access to parents tends to be gender-related. Observational research in diverse
cultures shows that girls typically spend more time with mothers than do boys,
while boys spend more time with fathers than do girls (Whiting and Edwards 1988).
Mother-daughter and mother-son relationships have been characterized as high in
both intimacy and conflict (Steinberg 1990), perhaps because of the greater amount
of time spent with mothers as opposed to fathers. The father-daughter relationship
seems to be the most distant (Youniss and Smollar 1985). Moreover, although
mothers tend to know more than fathers about the daily experiences of both sons
and daughters, mothers know relatively more about daughters and fathers know
relatively more about sons (Crouter et al. 1999).
Although gender thus seems to be associated with characteristics of parent–child
relationships in husband-wife families, there is absolutely no evidence that having
gay or lesbian parents (as opposed to husband-wife parents) is associated with
a child’s well-being. Decades of research on the well-being of children reared by
same-sex lesbian and gay couples finds the development and behavioral adjustment
of these children entirely equal to that of children reared in husband-wife house-
holds (Patterson 2006), suggesting strongly that these families provide support to
children equal to the support provided by husband-wife families. These results
obtain whether the parents are gay men or lesbian women (although lesbian parents
have been studied much more frequently than gay parents), whether the evaluators
of the child are parents or teachers, and whether the research is conducted in the
United States or in Europe. Furthermore, children born to or adopted early in life by
lesbian mothers were found to have regular contact with a wide range of adults of
both genders, from within and outside their families (Patterson 2006). Although the
gender of parents in such families made no difference to children’s adjustment, the
quality of family relationships was consistently related to child outcomes, just as in
husband-wife families: children who had close relationships with their parents were
those who were most likely to flourish (Patterson 2006).
45.6 Mothers
In husband-wife families and in single-mother families, mothers are typically the

most important members of their children’s social networks, named most often by
children as confidants and as sources of intimacy and nurturance (Belle 1987).
Mothers are major sources of advice, guidance, and intimacy to their adolescent
children as well (Youniss and Smollar 1985). Even when children are themselves
adult, mothers are likely to be more knowledgeable about and more emotionally
involved in children’s problems than are fathers (Loewenstein 1984). As Reid et al.
(1989, p. 907) have noted, “Children perceive their mothers as being the best
multipurpose social provider available.” Children’s “network orientations,” their
sense that others in their social networks can be trusted and could provide help in
difficult times, are strongly tied to their views of their own mothers as supportive
and to their enjoyment of the mother-child relationship (Belle et al. 1991).
Mothers are typically reported to be more active and more successful monitors
of their children’s behavior than are fathers (Bumpus et al. 2001; Crouter et al.
1990; Waizenhofer et al. 2004) and are more often the recipients of their children’s
self-disclosure (Belle et al. 1991; Smetana et al. 2006; Youniss and Smollar 1985).
An interesting exception is the work of Stattin and Kerr (2000), which finds no
gender difference in parents’ knowledge of their children’s lives. This study was
undertaken in Sweden, where, as the authors note, Swedish law encourages and
facilitates fathers’ involvement with their children in ways that US law does not.
In addition to providing direct support to children, mothers generally are the
central figures in facilitating other supportive relationships for their children and in
orchestrating the support that is provided. Married mothers in husband-wife fam-
ilies frequently have a major role in conveying important information about chil-
dren to the children’s fathers, enabling them to provide more effective support to
their children (Crouter et al. 1999; Lareau 2000). Mothers also typically “anchor”
the “networks of care” that support children while parents are away at work and
children are out of school, assembling the crew of helpers and connecting them to
the children (Hansen 2005). Mothers often function as after-school “specialists”
and supervisors, keeping track of changing schedules and alerting spouses and
others to their responsibilities for children from day to day (Belle 1999).
A representative married father discussed by Belle performed as many after-school
tasks for his children on a daily basis as did his wife, but did not remember his
child’s previous after-school arrangements. When asked what those had been, he
suggested that the interviewer ask his wife because, as he explained, his wife “takes
responsibility for that part of the family” (Belle 1999, p. 76). The primacy of
maternal care is recognized in many child custody arrangements following divorce

when mothers often become the custodial parents.
Not surprisingly, children often suffer if their relationships with their mothers
are not close and supportive. Children whose mothers fail to provide adequate
support are more likely to suffer from poor self-esteem and psychological disorders
and to display more antisocial aggression and more behavioral problems than well-
supported children (McLoyd 1990). Infants and young children who experience
unsupportive and insensitive mothering are much more likely than their
supportively nurtured peers to be insecurely attached to the mother, with all of
the negative consequences of insecure attachment for the child’s emotional and
behavioral well-being (Lyons-Ruth et al. 1990).
Maternal support to children often declines when mothers are themselves highly
stressed, unsupported, demoralized, or depressed (Longfellow et al. 1982; McLoyd
1990; Weissman and Paykel 1974; Zelkowitz 1982b). The overwhelming respon-
sibilities of life as a single parent (Weiss 1979) and the oppression of racism and
poverty (Evans et al. 2008; McLoyd 1990; Silverstein and Krate 1975) can lead
parents to reduce emotional support to children, compromising children’s well-
being. Economic and material deprivation often lead to stress, pervasive power-
lessness, social isolation, and exclusion, and these, in turn, push women toward
emotional distress (Abrams and Curran 2009; Belle and Doucet 2003; Goodman
et al. 2010; Smith 2010). Poverty is one of the most consistent correlates of
depression, and high levels of depressive symptoms are common among those
with low incomes, especially mothers with young children (Abrams and Curran
2009; Belle and Doucet 2003; Heflin and Iceland 2009; Smith 2010). Impoverished
parents are more likely to engage in harsh, inconsistent parenting, which can lead,
in turn, to social and emotional problems in children (Eamon and Zuehl 2001;
McLoyd 1998). Mothers under socioeconomic stress are those most likely to abuse
their children (Garbarino 1976).
Women’s risk of depression is also linked to income inequality, measured at the
state level (Kahn et al. 2000). In their study of a nationally representative stratified
random sample of over 8,000 women who were recontacted 3 years after giving
birth, Kahn et al. replicated the now familiar finding that low income is a significant
risk factor for both depressive symptoms and poor physical health. In addition, they
found that women who lived in a US state with high economic inequality were
significantly and substantially more likely to report high levels of depressive
symptoms and only fair or poor health than women who lived in a more econom-
ically equal state. The effects were strongest for the poorest women, with high
income inequality associated with a 60% greater risk of depressive symptoms and
an 80% greater risk of fair or poor health among those women already at risk
because of their low household incomes.
Depressed mothers are less involved with and less affectionate toward their
children, less likely to meet their children’s demands for attention and communi-
cation, less responsive, less nurturant, and more punitive to their children than
mothers who are not depressed (Longfellow et al. 1982; McLoyd 1990; Weissman
and Paykel 1974; Zelkowitz 1982). Maternal depression and emotional distress are
associated with diminished maternal sensitivity, use of coercive discipline, and with
physical abuse (McLoyd 1990), and these behaviors in turn are associated with
many problems in children, including low self-esteem, psychological disorders,
antisocial aggression, and behavioral problems (McLoyd 1990; 1998). It is perhaps
impossible to disentangle all the causal threads here, as various correlates of
maternal depression, including the lack of supportive others, shared genetic predis-
position of the child, and child characteristics that could produce maternal depres-
sion could also play a role. Yet certainly having a depressed mother is associated
with an array of problems for children.
It is provocative to consider that maternal depression, which may have such
terrible consequences for children, may have evolved to minimize maternal invest-
ment when such an investment was unlikely to be rewarded with healthy children
arriving at reproductive age themselves. Of course, depression has multiple sources,
and this argument is not meant to suggest that all maternal depression stems from
the mother’s response to inadequate support and provisioning by her network. Yet it
may be useful to consider the extent to which many depressions experienced by
mothers reflect a situation which is untenable and which would have been resolved
in other times and places through abandoning the child.
45.7 Mothers’ Networks
Caring for children is demanding, and mothers’ own needs for support frequently
increase with the arrival of children (Henderson 1977). Unhappily, women’s
networks often suffer just when they do become mothers. Fischer (1982) found,
for instance, that having children restricted the social involvements of US mothers
more than those of fathers. Mothers more than fathers differed from childless adults
in having fewer friends and associates, fewer social activities, less reliable social
supports, and more localized networks. Women also evaluated the marital relation-
ship least positively when there was a young child at home (Campbell et al. 1976).
English married mothers with young children, compared to married women who
had not yet had children, were dramatically less likely to report that they had
a confiding relationship with their husbands (Brown et al. 1975).
A mother is at greatest risk for demoralization and depression when she bears the
entire responsibility of child care and does not receive adequate support herself.
Appropriate support to mothers is reflected in enhanced maternal morale and
sensitivity and in positive outcomes for children (Belle 1982a; Colletta 1979;
Crnic et al. 1983; Crockenberg 1981). When mothers receive assistance with
child care or housekeeping tasks from husbands or other adults, their risk of
experiencing depressive symptoms is dramatically reduced (Abernethy 1973;
Belle 1982; Zur-Szpiro and Longfellow 1982), and when married mothers are
able to confide in their husbands, their risk of depression diminishes sharply
(Brown et al. 1975).
In western industrialized societies, mothers’ own social networks have been
shown in many studies to play critical roles in the well-being of their children.
Social networks can affect children indirectly through the provision of emotional
and material assistance to mothers, controls on parenting styles, and the provision
of role models (Cochran and Brassard 1979). Social networks can also affect
children directly, through providing cognitive and social stimulation, direct care
and support, observational models, opportunities for the development of network-
building skills, and the incorporation of members of the parents’ network into the
child’s own, emerging network (Cochran and Brassard 1979). Among human
groups operating close to the margin of survival, children with more alloparents
are actually more likely to survive (Hrdy 2009).
45.8 Networks for Survival
Poor women often create mutual aid networks through which they care for each
other and for each others’ children. Such networks are truly “strategies for sur-
vival,” in Carol Stack’s phrase (Edin and Lein 1997; Stack 1974), and support from
family, friends, and other network members is associated with a reduced risk of
depression among low-income women (Belle and Doucet 2003; Coiro 2001; Galaif
et al. 1999). Yet social networks can serve as conduits for stress, just as they can
serve as sources of social support (Belle 1982a, b; Curley 2009; Eckenrode and
Gore 1981; Edin and Lein 1997; Stack 1974). Network members are themselves
likely to be poor and stressed, so that considerable stress contagion is likely.
Reciprocating the help that is received from network members can be time-
consuming, and networks can preclude upward mobility or exact emotional costs.
Economically secure women can more easily extricate themselves from painful
relationships than poor women who rely on others for services they cannot afford to
buy, such as child care (Stack 1974).
Poor and working class mothers are often found to be more isolated, to receive
less help, and to report fewer confidants than their middle-class peers (Belle and
Doucet 2003). Riley and Eckenrode (1986) found that large social networks
actually exacted higher costs from poor women than they repaid through the
provision of supportive resources. In contrast to her original hypothesis, Roschelle
(1997) found that the respondents in her research who were more likely to exchange
resources and help with network members were those with more education
and more economic resources rather than those in less advantaged situations.
She notes that new patterns of poverty may be so overwhelming that “individuals
have neither the time nor the resources necessary to participate in kin and nonkin
networks” (p. 153).
45.9 Networks for Mobility
Some low-income mothers find ways to use their networks to facilitate upward
mobility (Dominguez 2011; Dominguez and Watkins 2003) and to assist children in
making their ways out of poverty (Jarrett 1995). Importantly, such strategies often
entail the rejection of many readily available local social ties in favor of carefully
chosen network members who can link the child to mainstream opportunities and
institutions. Dominguez writes of her informants’ “vigilantly chosen friends.”
Jarrett finds that parents of socially mobile youth are those who restrict family-
community relations and use stringent parental monitoring strategies while making
strategic alliances with mobility-enhancing institutions and organizations.
45.10 Fathers
Compared to the vast body of research that documents the importance of mothers as
members of children’s social networks and tracks the vicissitudes of maternal support
to children, the literature on fathers is quite small. [See Meehan (this volume) for
a full discussion of the variable roles that fathers play in the well-being of children.]
In many industrialized societies, fathers figure as support providers to mothers,
and, as discussed above, fathers’ support has been shown to have powerful indirect
effects on their children through protecting the emotional well-being of mothers. In
one study of low-income families, for instance, fathers’ provisions of financial,
child care, household, and emotional support to mothers were related to measures of
the mother’s emotional well-being, and several were also related to the child’s
report that the father was a provider of social support to the child (Zur-Szpiro and
Longfellow 1982). Mothers whose partners helped more with child care or house-
work or more often functioned as a confidant were less depressed and reported less
stress about parenting. Children whose fathers were more actively involved in their
care more often named the father as someone to whom they would turn for
nurturance and help. Women who were able to turn to their partners for emotional
support were more likely to have children who also turned to these men for
nurturance (Zur-Szpiro and Longfellow 1982).
Despite often holding the ideological belief that fathers should share equally in
child care and family life, fathers in husband-wife families have been found in
observational and interview research to be far less involved in or knowledgeable
about their children’s daily lives than are mothers (Belle 1999; Hochschild 1989;
Lareau 2000). In her wonderfully titled paper, “My wife can tell me who I know:
Methodological and conceptual problems in studying fathers,” Lareau (2000)
reports that in her study of white and black families with children in third or fourth
grade, most of the fathers “did not know very much about the details of their
children’s lives because, relative to mothers, they did not provide very much day-
to-day care” (p. 408). Just as Belle (1999) and Hansen (2005) found, fathers were
“helpers of mothers, recruited, directed, and monitored by mothers,” and “fathers’
role in the planning and coordination that inevitably accompany household labor is
so small as to be nonexistent” (Lareau 2000, pp. 416–417). Although they contrib-
uted little to the child-centered division of labor in their families, fathers did
provide affection, humor, advice, and life skills to their children, they were
a powerful presence in the household, and children appeared to be strongly
connected to them (Lareau 2000).
Not all fathers, however, know so little and do so little with their children.
Divorced fathers who maintain a separate household and have or share custody of
the child tend to take a more equal share of responsibility than is the case in
husband-wife households (Belle 1999; Lareau 2000). When fathers host children
independently, without a wife in the household, their knowledge of and engagement
with their children’s daily lives is very similar to that of mothers in dual-parent
households (Lareau 2000).
Fathers are important role models to their children, especially their sons,
and children often suffer when they have too little contact with their fathers.
Jaffee et al. (2003) found that children had more behavioral problems the less
time they had lived with their fathers. Yet this finding actually reversed when
the fathers themselves had behavioral problems. When fathers engaged in
antisocial behavior, children were at higher risk when they spent more time
living with them.
45.11 Siblings
Sibling relationships are often high in conflict, yet siblings can and do support each
other in crucial ways, most often by providing companionship (Furman and
Buhrmester 1985). Older siblings are frequent sources of instrumental aid, and
same-gender siblings, particularly those close in age, often provide emotional
intimacy (Furman and Buhrmester 1985). Some studies suggest a special support-
iveness from older sisters (Blyth and Foster-Clark 1987; Bryant 1985). Bryant
found that older sisters were named more frequently on younger children’s lists
of important others than were older brothers and even more frequently than either
mothers or fathers! Yet in Furman and Buhrmester’s (1985) research, brothers
provided more instrumental aid to their siblings than did sisters.
The sibling relationship can be particularly important when children face
difficult life circumstances. Children whose siblings are with them when they
spend time at home without adult support or supervision are less likely to
experience high levels of fear and sleep disturbance than unsupervised children
at home alone (Long and Long 1982). Older siblings can provide a protective
buffer for low-income children who experience other stressful life events
(Sandler 1980). In families of divorce, adolescents with siblings show fewer
behavioral problems than do only children (Kempton et al. 1991). Among
children whose parents had high-conflict marriages, those with close sibling
relationships showed fewer adjustment problems than children without close
sibling relationships (Jenkins 1992). The “required helpfulness” of the sibling
caretaker role also seemed to promote resilience in children under stress, and for
children who grew up in high-risk families, involvement in sibling caretaking,
either as providers or recipients, appeared to be a major protective factor (Werner
1990). Furthermore, sibling support in childhood was associated with better
adjustment in adulthood among those who grew up in high-conflict homes
(Caya and Liem 1998).
45.12 Pets
It may not be too much of a stretch to include pets as potentially valuable members
in the social networks of children. Certainly pets can be important sources of
support for children who feel lonely on their own (Bryant 1985; Guerney 1991;
Long and Long 1982). Furman (1989) found that the fourth-grade children he
studied turned frequently to their pets for companionship, a sense of reliable
alliance, intimacy, and, especially, opportunities to provide nurturance. The children
reported providing more nurturance to their pets than to anyone else in their
networks. Although pets receded in importance among the older, seventh-grade
children he studied, Furman noted that pets were significant support figures to the
younger children in his study.
Pets may be especially important when children find themselves separated from
other members of their social networks, as can happen when parents are at work and
children are home alone. As a child in one study of children’s after-school experi-
ences (Belle 1999, pp. 125–126) noted, “When you’re sad, cats can sit on your lap.”
Another thought of the cat at her father’s house as a special friend. “He’s furry and
always warm. He loves you. He gives me playful swats. He never puts his claws out
when he touches me.” A boy in the study considered the rabbit at his father’s house
a special friend. “He likes to jump with me. He likes to play with me.” Another
considered his cat a special friend, even a member of the family. “He never puts me
down, is always there, always seems to understand.”
For some children, even stuffed animals provide support. One child who spent
considerable amounts of time on her own after school described several stuffed
animals and dolls as playmates who kept her company and cheered her up when she
was lonely, bored, or scared (Belle 1999, p. 126). She found particular comfort in
the stuffed animal her absent father gave her. When she worried that there were
monsters in her closet, she talked to this stuffed animal and “he scares my problems
away.” She asked the interviewer, “You know why I love him so much? Because
he’s from my daddy.”
45.13 Friends and Peers
With greater age, children are better able to realize what is unique in another child
and to recognize and meet a peer’s need for social support (Youniss 1980). During
the school years, children’s capacities for friendship with peers grow markedly. As
children grow older, they increasingly confide in friends (Belle and Longfellow
1984) and report that an increasing number of friends provide them with social
support (Belle 1989).
Friends can provide children with important resources and can improve their
lives in many ways. Children like to do more physically active things when they are
with their friends and spend more time in sedentary pursuits when they are by
themselves (Belle 1999; Medrich et al. 1982). When adults are unavailable in the
after-school hours, friends can alleviate boredom and loneliness and protect
children from anxiety and fear (Belle 1999). The importance to children of partic-
ular friends their own age is revealed in their eagerness to spend after-school time
with them. When asked about the after-school arrangements they most desired,
children most often expressed a wish to spend this time with their friends (Belle
1999). This was often difficult because children might attend different after-school
programs than their friends, or one child might attend a program while another went
home after school. Unsupervised children might not be allowed to have friends
visit, or their friends’ parents might not allow the friends to visit the unsupervised
child, or the logistics of transporting children who lived at some distance might rule
out the possibility of after-school visits. Despite their interest in spending after-
school time with friends, only one fourth of the children in Belle’s study spent most
of their time after school with their close friends. One third of the children rarely
saw their best friends after school, and the remaining children spent some time, but
less than half of their after-school time, with close friends.
Although friends can provide important benefits to children, they can pose
dangers as well. Children who spend after-school time unsupervised by adults,
especially those who spend this time “hanging out” away from home, are more
susceptible than other children to peer pressure to engage in antisocial behavior
(Belle 1999; Steinberg 1986).
Children whose families experience poverty or economic decline are at greater risk
than economically secure children of experiencing problems in peer relationships,
perhaps because of the styles of interaction that children learn from their parents
(McLoyd 1990). When families undergo economic hardship, parents are more likely
to use power-assertive and punitive discipline techniques and less likely to have
sustained positive interactions with children. Thus children may learn to handle inter-
personal conflict with coercion rather than negotiation and may have fewer opportunities
to master strategies that could help in initiating and maintaining positive peer interac-
tions (McLoyd 1990). Poverty is also associated with many risks to children’s health and
mental health often including a child’s difficulties in regulating stress (Evans and Kim
2007), and these difficulties may also affect their relationships with peers.
Extreme economic inequalities, such as are characteristic in the United States
and many other industrialized countries today, also appear to be associated with
problems in children’s peer relationships. Children in more economically unequal
countries report more fighting and bullying and less kindness and helpfulness with
their peers than do children in more economically equal nations (Wilkinson and
Pickett 2009). This finding is not surprising, given the array of research findings that
have implicated national- and state-level economic inequalities in high levels of
violence, poor mental and physical health, lower life expectancy, loss of trust, and
other ills (Wilkinson and Pickett 2009).
45.14 Gender and Peer Relations
Research on gender and peer relations has focused on differences in girls’ and boys’
social structures. In nonhuman primates, social structure strongly influences the
types of relationships formed (Wrangham 1987), and social structure within any
species usually differs for each sex. In humans, similar to nonhuman species,
shortly after infancy ends, individuals begin to segregate their interactions by sex
(Conradt 1998; Mehta and Strough 2009). This means that similarly aged peers
spend much more time with same-sex than other-sex peers, with this segregation
increasing during the childhood years, peaking in late childhood or early adoles-
cence, and stabilizing in adolescence at a fairly high level (Belle 1989). Reviewing
studies from many other nations, Bagwell and Schmidt (2011) conclude that
children’s friendships are overwhelmingly with children of the same sex (p. 255).
They also suggest that gender segregation in young children’s peer groups may be
stronger for middle-class white children in the United States than for children of
other ethnic or cultural groups in the United States or children in other nations.
Maccoby (1998) emphasized the importance of analyzing the separate worlds of
girls and boys as the basis for understanding the differential socialization pressures
applied to each sex. Certainly, involvement in a sex-segregated milieu narrows
considerably the types of information available [but see Thorne (1993) for
exceptions].
Within their sex-segregated worlds, girls and boys confront an environment that
differs in the types of social networks formed. Numerous anthropological reports
from diverse cultures around the world demonstrate that between 5 and 7 years
(Weisfeld et al. 1980), boys explicitly begin to organize their peers into larger and
more interconnected networks (Fine 1980; Savin-Williams 1980). In contrast, girls
are much more likely to form relationships with just one or two other girls at a time.
To examine these sex differences in further detail, researchers have constructed
settings where identical props and numbers of same-sex children were present. In
one study, at 6 years of age (but not at 4 years of age), boys spent almost 75% of
their time coordinating their interactions with a group of other boys, all of whom
engaged in the same activity. In contrast, girls spent less than 20% of their time in
such joint interactions, instead engaging in interactions with only one or two other
girls at a time (Benenson et al. 1997). Interestingly, both girls and boys spent equal
amounts of time in one-on-one interactions. The difference was that girls engaged
in prolonged bouts of interaction with one other girl, whereas boys interacted with
many different boys in the same period of time, with each dyadic interaction lasting
for a brief duration. Thus, boys skipped from one boy to another in rapid succession,
whereas a girl focused in depth on one other girl.
More naturalistic observations across a number of preschools show that already
by 3 years of age, girls interact with fewer peers at a time than boys do (Fabes et al.
2003). Even by 6 months of age, infant boys more than girls prefer looking at
a larger number of animate objects than infant girls do (Benenson et al. 2004).
Further, by 3 months of age, the amount of time male infants look at a group versus
one individual is related to levels of testosterone (Alexander et al. 2009).
How does social structure affect other aspects of life? In a classic study, Waldrop
and Halverson (1975) showed that girls who were most comfortable with peers had
one best friend or at most a few close friends. In contrast, boys who were most
socially at ease interacted with a group of friends. This has important implications
for the environments that socialize girls and boys. Intense engagement in relation-
ships of emotional intimacy may equip girls more than boys to provide effective
emotional support to others during childhood and on into adulthood (Belle 1982b).
Lever (1978) has suggested that the larger, looser structure of boys’ interactions in
middle childhood is more conducive to learning about the culture of many jobs
which require workers who specialize in different tasks. Thus, girls may be at
a disadvantage in such work settings because they are more prone to forming
relationships with one other individual at a time.
Careful investigation of girls’ and boys’ interactions in both one-on-one inter-
actions and in larger groups provides some support for Lever’s conclusion. For
example, in one study conducted in England, groups of five same-sex peers 10 years
of age were asked to generate lists of words that began with the same letter, with the
group that generated the most words receiving a large monetary award (Benenson
and Heath 2006). Boys outperformed girls, even though girls generally excel at this
type of task. Examination of the videotapes of the interactions showed that girls
invested their time in finding one individual with whom to provide and receive
assistance, whereas boys shared their words with the entire group. When the study
was redone and the children interacted in pairs instead of groups, however, girls
outperformed boys. In this case, observations showed that when only two boys were
present, one of them often became distressed if his partner was generating more
words than he was. This led him to reduce his effort and begin berating his partner.
Other research suggests that even as early as age 3 years, boys appear less
comfortable than girls interacting with a single puppet as compared with a group
of puppets. In marked contrast, girls seem to relish interaction with a single
puppet and when confronted with a group of puppets simply focus on one of
them. For boys, the introduction of a group of puppets actually cheered them up
considerably.
Social structure by itself exerts a powerful influence on the interactions of
individuals of both sexes. In studies with Harvard men conducted in the 1940s and
1950s, Bales and Borgatta (1955) showed that as the group size declined from 7 to 2,
men became more polite, less self-centered, and less competitive and aggressive. In
particular, one-on-one interactions stood out from the other interactions by fostering
careful attention to the needs of the other individual as well as self-effacing behavior.
Slater (1958) attributed the direct relation between increasing politeness, diminished
self-focus, and reduced competitiveness with decreasing group size, to the fragile and
intense nature of the one-on-one interaction. Should a conflict erupt between two
individuals, the bond can easily dissolve. In contrast, as the group size increases,
loyalty to maintenance of the group, presence of allies and mediators, and alternate
partners permit conflicts that arise to be mitigated by mechanisms that preserve the
integrity of the group. Thus, individuals in a one-on-one interaction must work hard
to avoid conflict by investing more in their partner relative to themselves. Once the
number of individuals increases, an individual is freer to devote more time to his or
her own needs at the expense of his or her partner’s.
Studies with children support these findings. In games designed to test the effects
of differing forms of social structure, the same children were asked to play against
both a group of children and an individual child from that group (Benenson et al.
2001, 2002). When children of either sex played against a group of children, they
behaved more selfishly by competing harder against individuals in the group and
expressing aggression more directly. In contrast, when the same children played
against only one other child at a time, they exhibited less self-centered and
competitive behavior. This occurred even when the odds of winning were equated.
Further, children exhibited more anxious and depressive symptoms, and displayed
more altruistic behaviors, when playing against one other child as opposed to
a group of children.
This suggests that some of the large sex differences in anxiety and depression
that characterize girls and women may result from the intense one-on-one interac-
tions that require self-effacement in order not to disrupt the bond. In contrast, the
higher rates of directly competitive and aggressive behaviors of boys and men
likely are facilitated by and responsive to the greater freedom that results from
being a member of a larger group. Thus, boys’ greater expression of direct aggres-
sion, which appears by 1 year of age (Hay et al. 2011) and continues throughout
childhood and adolescence (Moffitt et al. 2001), likely both causes and results from
boys’ interactions with larger numbers of peers. Similarly, girls’ greater anxiety and
depression (Nolen-Hoeksema 2000) likely become accentuated by the desire to
maintain an intense bond with only one individual at a time. Girls invest much
energy and time into their relationships.
Girls’ greater focus on relationships may arise at least partially from the singular
importance of each relationship. Young girls, like adult women, report more inter-
personal causes for anger than do boys (Brody 1999, p. 225). School-aged girls state
that being rejected or ignored by friends, being jealous of friends, or violations of the
principles of friendship are the primary reasons they get angry (Brody 1999, p. 225).
Girls tend to be preoccupied with which girls are friends with other friends, and girls
tend to have more difficulty than boys do in relating to more than one friend at a time,
or in integrating newcomers into their intimate friendship networks.
Girls’ friendships are not connected to one another, unlike boys for whom all of
their friends are frequently friendly with one another (Markovits et al. 2001; Parker
and Seal 1996). A girl often becomes jealous when one of her close friends becomes
friendly with another one of her close friends (Parker et al. 2005). Boys generally do
not report jealousy when a friend of theirs finds another friend. At the proximate
level, this is likely because girls put so much more time than boys into selecting,
forming, and maintaining a relationship. Should the relationship end because one
member of a friendship finds another friend, this may dissolve the original bond, as
opposed to increase the number of members of the friendship group. These intense,
preemptive negative emotions may prevent a friend from forming a new friendship.
Again, a boy in this situation may profit from his friend’s newfound friendship as
his own friendship network may expand as well.
The social structure of girls’ and women’s friendships not only incites greater
care, more concern, and higher levels of jealousy but also more heartbreak. Inter-
views with girls from early childhood through adolescence demonstrate that girls’
friendships dissolve more readily than those of boys (Benenson and Alavi 2004;
Benenson and Christakos 2003). And girls at all ages feel worse about the breakup
of a friendship than boys do. Part of this may stem from the higher frequencies with
which girls’ relationships “break up.” It is difficult not to notice if your best friend
no longer wants to interact with you. If your friendship with an individual is part of
a larger group, however, its termination is much less evident. Part of the hurt also
almost certainly is mitigated by the alternate partners a group affords who are
readily available as replacements.
The termination of a close friendship likely occurs more frequently between girls
than between boys because it is more difficult to resolve a conflict when there are no
third parties to divert one’s attention and permit a cooling off period, to act as
mediators, or allies, and no allegiance to a larger group structure (Slater 1958).
Additionally, however, it is likely that girls and women are more selective about
their friendships. Because women rely on others for assistance rearing children,
they must be highly choosy about whom they can trust. Already in childhood, trust
and loyalty are major themes in girls’ discussions of their relationships with one
another (Whitesell and Harter 1996). The heartbreak may be greater partly because
so much was invested in the friendship in the first place.
Evidence demonstrates that girls and women hold one another to a higher
standard than boys and men do. In one study of hypothetical potential disruptions
to a relationship, researchers asked girls and boys in middle childhood how they
would feel if a same-sex friend divulged a poor mark in school, did not exhibit
emotional support in times of grief, refused to share lunch when the participant had
not any, and did not complete their portion of a school project (MacEvoy and Asher
2012). Girls expressed greater disappointment than boys. The same findings in
response to hypothetical potential friendship disruptions occurred in early and
middle adolescence (Whitesell and Harter 1996). Further, behavioral evidence
demonstrates that by late adolescence, not only are young women more likely
than young men to be dissatisfied with a same-sex college roommate but they are
also more likely to pack their belongings and move to another room due to an
irreconcilable conflict with their roommate (Benenson et al. 2009).
The well-being of girls and women differs from that of boys and men in the ways
in which conflicts arise as well. Thousands of studies have demonstrated that from
early childhood through adulthood, universally human males engage in more direct
competition and aggression than human females (Archer 2004; 2009; Maccoby and
Jacklin 1974). This suggests that human females do not compete, or compete much
less frequently. Newer research however shows that girls and women do compete
but employ less direct forms of competition and aggression, such as relational
aggression (Crick and Grotpeter 1995), covert aggression (Bj€orkqvist 1994), or
social aggression (Underwood 2003). Overall however, boys and men use these
forms of aggression as much as girls and women do, so that it is simply that girls
and women disproportionately utilize these forms of aggression.
But there is one form of aggression that seems particularly common among girls
and women: social exclusion. Social exclusion inflicts pain in a way that mimics
physical wounds and does so similarly in both sexes (Eisenberger et al. 2003;
MacDonald and Leary 2005). Nonetheless, human females seem to utilize it more
than males. Anecdotal reports demonstrate that social exclusion occurs among girls
in childhood and adolescence and inflicts much pain (Simmons 2003; Wiseman
2002). Empirical evidence confirms that in early childhood (Benenson et al. 2008),
middle childhood (Eder and Hallinan 1978), and young adulthood (Benenson et al.
2011), girls and young women both practice and are victims of social exclusion
more than boys and young men are. The question is why this is so.
Social exclusion likely occurs more frequently among females than males
because of its intrinsic relation to one-on-one relationships. Girls and women
who want to form a close, one-on-one relationship must by definition exclude
third parties (Benenson et al. 2011). Thus, any gathering of a group of females
implicitly may precipitate social exclusion. Girls and women may also be more
aware than boys and men of social exclusion because of its greater disruption to
their lives. Should one member of a friendship pair form a relationship with a third
party, the original participant stands to lose an entire relationship. In marked
contrast, a male’s friend who befriends a third party simply expands the number
of individuals in both of their networks, even if the original participant ends up
spending less time with one particular friend. Because social exclusion forms
a major threat to girls’ and women’s relationships, it seems likely that they regulate
their behavior and decision-making to minimize its occurrence. Boys and men
likely invest less in avoidance of social exclusion simply because it occurs less
frequently and imposes lower costs on their lives.
45.15 Non-parental Adults
The importance of non-parental adults in supporting parents and thus improving

their morale and their parenting has been discussed earlier. Grandparents, aunts and
uncles, babysitters, teachers, coaches, parental friends, neighbors, and others often
provide critical resources directly to children as well. Wahler (1980) observed that
on days marked by visits from supportive members of the mother’s social network,
both the mother and her children exhibited improved, positive social behavior to
each other. (On days marked by visits from critical or unsupportive members of the
network, however, both children and mothers exhibited more negative social
behavior.) Zelkowitz (1982a) found that when mothers were stressed, depressed,
or nonnurturant, children who received supportive care from other adults exhibited
a reduced level of aggressive behavior in the home, in comparison to children who
lacked such additional support.
Small (2009) has shown that important sources of network ties for the mothers of
young children are the child care centers their children attend. Many of the mothers
studied by Small increased the size and the usefulness of their own networks after
enrolling their children in these centers, and having a larger and more useful
network was associated with reports of less depression and less material hardship.
Most importantly, Small demonstrated that seemingly trivial differences in the
practices of child care centers predicted the ways in which mothers’ networks
were or were not changed when their children began to attend. The rules regarding
the drop-off and pickup of children, the frequency of fieldtrips and parties, and the
nature of parent-teacher organizations affected mothers’ networks. By extension,
Small’s work suggests that the size and helpfulness of our networks are deeply
affected by such small differences in the organizations with which we and our
children come in contact.
Evolutionary theory has highlighted the importance of grandmothers as
alloparents and supporters of children. In fact, some believe that the extended
human life expectancy beyond menopause may have arisen because grandmothers
offered such a significant survival advantage to grandchildren (Hrdy 1999). In the
United States, over a million households contain grandchildren living with their
grandparents but with no parents in the home (Musil et al. 2010). Stepping in when
parents are unable or unwilling to care for children keeps children in families and in
communities and makes a very positive difference for them. Maternal grandparents
in particular can reduce children’s morbidity and mortality (Sear and Mace 2008).
Responsibility for the care of grandchildren, however, often comes with costs to the
caretakers. Stress, physical health problems, depressive symptoms, and perceived
problems in family functioning are all significantly more common among grand-
mothers who take on a caretaking role than on those who share the role with parents
or those who do not live with their grandchildren (Musil et al. 2010).
Much less is known about the experiences of male relatives who also support
children. As Hansen (2005, p. 184) notes, social science research on men in families
generally focuses on men as fathers but ignores men in other kinship relationships,
such as uncles or grandfathers. The sociological and psychological literature tends
to focus on uncles as perpetrators of sexual abuse rather than as contributors to
family functioning. (Anthropology, by contrast, does study broader kinship
systems.) Studies do find that grandfathers feel closest to those grandchildren
who live nearby. Practically, the tasks they most commonly do for their
grandchildren include transportation and care in illness. Interpersonally, they transfer
values – regarding religion, family heritage, education, work, and respect for
others – to their grandchildren (Hansen 2005).
As in so many other aspects of children’s networks, there often are gender
differences in children’s access to non-parental adults. Riley and Cochran (1987)
found that boys had approximately equal numbers of such men and women who
involved them in adult tasks or took them on outings, while girls had about twice as
many female as male adults who interacted with them in these ways.
Parental divorce can truncate a child’s network, since friends and even relatives
of the noncustodial parent can be lost to the child or contact with them can become
infrequent. Divorce can also reshape the child’s network if parents incorporate new
adult friends into the network or increase contact between parental friends and
children. In a study of Swedish children, Tietjen (1982) found that daughters of
single mothers and sons of married mothers reported knowing the greatest number
of adults who were not their relatives. Several of the single mothers and daughters
reported that the daughters were often included in their mothers’ activities with
adult friends. Boys from two-parent families tended to name the coaches of their
sports teams and their fathers’ friends as adults they knew. Boys in single-parent
families had less access to both of these sources of adult companionship. Riley and
Cochran (1987) discovered that the number of adult male relatives who took the
child on outings away from home was positively related to the child’s report card
score. This effect, however, was restricted to the subgroup of boys in one-parent
(mother only) households, the particular subgroup pinpointed in Tietjen’s research
as vulnerable to a dearth of non-parental adults in their social networks.
45.16 Strengthening Children’s Social Networks
Interventions that strengthen children’s networks by introducing additional sup-

portive adults into the lives of parents and children often report dramatic gains,
particularly for children already at risk because of poverty and family isolation.
Olds and his colleagues (1997) reported that 15 years after the birth of their first
child, women who had participated in a nurse home-visiting program during
pregnancy and the child’s infancy were significantly less likely than a control
group to have been identified as perpetrators of child abuse or neglect. Among
the subset of these women who were unmarried and poor at the beginning of the
study, the program of prenatal and early childhood home visiting also was signif-
icantly associated with fewer subsequent births, wider spacing between births,
shorter periods receiving Aid to Families with Dependent Children payments,
fewer behavioral impairments related to the use of alcohol and other drugs, and
fewer arrests. Lyons-Ruth et al. (1990) found that weekly home visiting with
high-risk low-income mothers and their infants resulted in substantial gains in
secure infant attachment. In this study, home visitors without advanced education
were as successful in promoting these gains as were more highly educated and
credentialed home visitors.
Goodman et al. (2010) argue that social isolation, along with stress and power-
lessness, is central to the mental health difficulties of low-income women. Mental
health interventions, therefore, must increase women’s supportive connections, as
well as their control and choice, or these interventions will fail to improve the
emotional well-being of impoverished women in any substantial way. Goodman
et al. highlight creative interventions that expand supportive social networks,
improve the nature of women’s social networks, and enable women to improve
their relationships with family and friends. Such improvements enhance the morale
and thus the parenting capabilities of poor mothers.
One-on-one mentoring programs that pair children and adolescents with adult
mentors are hugely popular and supported across the political spectrum (Hirsch
2005). When the matches between adult volunteers and young people work well,
the programs can have large and positive effects. Yet it has been estimated that up
to two thirds of the mentoring relationships between high-poverty young people and
adult volunteers do not survive the introductory phase (Hirsch 2005). As Hirsch
notes, the adults, often white, college-educated, middle-class, and from the suburbs,
have little in common with the black or Latino inner-city youth with whom they are
often paired. Even shared interests in sports or other areas can be insufficient to
surmount differences in behavioral and linguistic styles. Mentoring relationships

that do not last long can actually have damaging effects on the children and
adolescents who enter into them (Rhodes 2002).
Community-based after-school programs can provide older children and adoles-
cents with valuable additions to their social networks in the context of ongoing
programs that offer multiple potential mentors and generally endure over time
(Hirsch 2005; McLaughlin et al. 1994). In his ethnographic research at after-school
programs in low-income African American communities, Hirsch was struck by the
warmth and caring readily apparent in relationships between staff members and
young people and by the ways in which these adults helped their charges understand
the ways of the world. As Hirsch notes, in earlier years such communities generally
provided children with unrelated adults (referred to as “old heads” or “othermothers”)
who had reputations for wisdom and supportiveness. As many poor black urban
communities deteriorated in recent decades, they lost many members of the middle
class, along with thriving businesses and strong local institutions. Yet, according to
Hirsch, “although they may no longer hang out on the front steps of their house, good
local mentors can still be found in community-based after-school programs” (p. 58).
45.17 Conclusion
Children thrive when they have a network of close and supportive relationships.
Many aspects of contemporary life pose threats to the supportiveness of children’s
networks, especially the poverty and economic inequality that so often demoralize
parents, diminishing the quality of their parenting, and long parental working hours
that can leave children without adult support for lengthy afternoons and evenings.
Home-visiting programs, after-school programs, and other interventions that increase
the support available to parents and children can improve the lives of children.
Systemic change to reduce economic inequalities and poverty rates and to improve
economic mobility for families would be still more powerful.
Children’s networks are gendered in many ways, with girls more likely than
boys to seek out social support, to provide social support, and to be satisfied with the
support they receive. Girls also tend to live more of their relational lives in dyads
while boys prefer to relate to others as part of larger groups. These gender
differences have serious consequences for the well-being of children of each sex.
As gender roles change over time, future research can investigate whether these
well-established gender differences also shift as well.
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Ecological Perspective on Child
Well-Being 46
James Garbarino
46.1 Introduction
This chapter offers an ecological perspective on child well-being. How can we best
approach this array of issues? To do so effectively, we need a perspective on human
development that begins with the realization that there are few hard and fast simple
rules about how human beings develop; complexity is the rule rather than the
exception. Rarely, if ever, is there a simple cause–effect relationship that works
the same way with all people in every situation. Rather, we find that the process of
cause and effect depends upon the child as a set of biological and psychological
systems set within the various social, cultural, political, and economic systems that
constitute the context in which developmental phenomena are occurring.
This insight is the essence of an “ecological perspective” on human development
as articulated by scholars such as Urie Bronfenbrenner (1981). It is captured in
these words: If we ask, “does X cause Y?” the best scientific answer is almost
always “it depends.” It depends upon all the constituent elements of child and
context (Garbarino 2008):
• Gender (e.g., the amount of infant babbling predicts childhood IQ in girls but not
in boys (Bronfenbrenner 1981))
• Temperament (e.g., about 10 % of children are born with a temperamental
proneness to becoming “shy,” but this predisposition can be overcome in most
children with strong, supportive, and long-term intervention (Kagan 1997))
• Cognitive competence (e.g., abused children who exhibit a pattern of negative
social cognition were found to be eight times more likely to develop problems
with antisocial aggressive behavior than were abused children who exhibited
positive social cognition (Dodge et al. 1997))
J. Garbarino
Psychology Department, Loyola University Chicago, Chicago, IL, USA

1366 J. Garbarino
• Age (e.g., on average, “unconditional maternal responsiveness” at 3 months of

age predicts “obedience” at 12 months of age, but such unconditional maternal
responsiveness at 9 months of age does not (Maccoby and Martin 1983))
• Family (e.g., while nurse home visiting that began prenatally was effective in
reducing child abuse in first time births to single mothers from 19 % to 4 %
among a high-risk sample, this effect did not occur when there was an abusive
man in the mother’s household (Olds et al. 1997))
• Neighborhood (e.g., the correlation between poverty and infant mortality is
conditioned by neighborhood factors, being “higher that would be predicted”
in some areas and “lower than would be predicted” in others, as a function of the
degree to which prenatal services are accessible (Garbarino and Kostelny 1992))
• Society (e.g., a study comparing the United States and Canada found that the
correlation between low income and child maltreatment was higher in the United
States than in Canada (Garbarino 2008))
• Culture (e.g., native Hawaiians see the goal of child rearing as producing an
interdependent person while most Americans are seeking to create rugged indi-
vidualists, and as a result, Hawaiian mothers place a high value on infants sleeping
with parents and Americans discourage the practice (Garbarino and Ebata 1983))
This ecological perspective is frustrating: we all would prefer a simple “yes
or no” to the question “does X cause Y?” It would make discussions of child
well-being much simpler conceptually and politically. But reality is not obliging on
this score. One important corollary of our ecological perspective is the fact that
generally it is the accumulation of risks and assets in a child’s life that tells the story
about developmental progress, not the presence of absence of any one negative or
positive influence. For example, Sameroff et al. (1987) classic study included eight
risk factors (both parental characteristics – educational level, mental health status,
absence, substance abuse – and family characteristics – economic status, race,
maltreatment, and number of children).
The results indicated that the average IQ scores of children were not jeopar-
dized by the presence of one or two risk factors. Since research indicates that what
matters for resilience is that children reach an “average” level of cognitive
competence (about 100), it is highly significant that children with zero, one, or
two risk factors averaged 119, 116, and 113, respectively. But IQ scores declined
significantly into the dangerous range with the presence of four or more (averag-
ing 90 with four risk factors and 85 with five). In Sameroff’s research, each risk
factor weighed equally in the effect; it was the accumulation of risk factors that
accounted for the differences. The same is true of developmental assets. Standing
against the accumulation of risk are the number of developmental assets in
a child’s life and the components of resilience. Research conducted by the Search
Institute has identified 40 developmental assets – positive characteristics of
family, school, neighborhood, peers, culture, and belief systems. As these assets
accumulate, the likelihood that a child or adolescent will be engaged in antisocial
violence declines – from 61 % for kids with 0–10 assets to 6 % for kids with
31–40, for example. Asset accumulation predicts resilient response to stress and
challenge (Scales and Leffer 2004).
46 Ecological Perspective on Child Well-Being 1367
For example, if we ask, “does absence of a parent produce long lasting negative
effects?” the answer is, as it always is, “it depends.” That’s always the answer in
general, but once we know what else a particular child is facing – poverty? drug
abuse in a parent? child abuse? racism? too many siblings? We can move closer to
“yes, probably” or “no, probably not.” And one important influence on the devel-
opmental impact of these contingencies is always the temperament of the child.
Each child offers a distinctive emotional package, a temperament. Each child
shows up in the world with a different package of characteristics. Some are more
sensitive; others are less so. Some are very active; some are lethargic. Why are
these differences important? For one thing, they affect how much and in what
direction the world around them will influence how they think and feel about things.
What one child can tolerate, another will experience as highly destructive. What
will be overwhelming to one child will be a minor inconvenience to another.
Knowing a child’s temperament goes a long way toward knowing how vulnerable
that child will be in the world, particularly in extreme situations. Thomas and
Chess’s (1977) classic research on temperament in the United States reported that
while about 70 % of “difficult” babies evidenced serious adjustment problems by
the time they entered elementary school, for “easy” babies the figure was 10 %.
Would this figure be the same for every society? It depends (upon how similar the
average balance of risk and asset factors was in comparison with the United States).
46.2 The Role of Resilience
Most children can live with one major risk factor; few can handle an accumulation
of them. Getting from a generalized “it depends” to a more specific assessment of
the likely fate of any child lies in accounting for all the elements of accumulated risk
factors, developmental assets, and temperament to determine the odds of success or
failure, and it is the foundation for approaching issues of child well-being.
Although it is defined in numerous ways, resilience generally refers to an
individual’s ability to stand up to adverse experiences, to avoid long-term negative
effects, or otherwise to overcome developmental threats. Many of us know a child
whose life is a testament to resilience. The concept of resilience rests on the
research finding that while there is a positive correlation between specific negative
experiences and specific negative outcomes, in most situations, a majority (perhaps
60–80 %) of children will not display that negative outcome. All children have
some capacity to deal with adversity, but some have more than others and are thus
more “resilient,” while others are more “vulnerable” in difficult times. But some
children face relatively easy lives while others face mountains of difficulty with few
allies and resources.
Resilience is not absolute. Virtually every child has a “breaking point” or an
upper limit on “stress absorption capacity.” Kids are “malleable” rather than
“resilient,” in the sense that each threat costs them something – and if the demands
are too heavy, the child may experience a kind of psychological bankruptcy. What
is more, in some environments virtually all children demonstrate negative effects of
1368 J. Garbarino
highly stressful and threatening environments. For example, in his Chicago data
psychologist Patrick Tolan (1996) reports that none of the minority, adolescent
males facing the combination of highly dangerous and threatening low-income
neighborhoods coupled with low-resource/high-stress families was resilient at age
15 when measured by continuing for a 2-year period as neither being more than one
grade level behind in school nor having sufficient mental health problems so as to
warrant professional intervention.
What is more, resilience in gross terms may obscure real costs to the individual.
Some children manage to avoid succumbing to the risk of social failure as defined
by poverty and criminality but nonetheless experiences real harm in the form of
diminished capacity for successful intimate relationships. Even apparent social
success – performing well in the job market, avoiding criminal activity, and
creating a family – may obscure some of the costs of being resilient in
a socially toxic environment such as if faced by millions of children. The inner
lives of these children may be fraught with emotional damage – to self-esteem
and intimacy, for example. Though resilient in social terms, these kids may be
severely wounded souls.
46.3 The Organism at the Heart of the Social Ecology
At the heart of the social ecology is the child as an organism that is developing, that
has psychological systems, neurological systems, and biological systems. This
provides some parameters on how social environments can function to enhance
child well-being. For example, one of the few universals that seems to exist cross
culturally, around the world is that children thrive in conditions of parental accep-
tance, and wither in conditions of parental rejection. Stimulated by the work of
Rohner et al. (2005), anthropologists and psychologists working around the world
have found that across cultures, simply knowing the level of parental acceptance of
children can account for 25 % of the variation in outcomes for children. Particular
outcomes studied have to do with well-being, pro-social behavior, psychological
thriving, and resilience.
There may be some universal forces at work, but things always work in context.
This is true even of rejection. A recent study conducted in Brazil found levels of
rejection among poor families at a level approximately half that found among poor
American families. This may flow from the nature of poverty in the two societies
(more “structural” in Brazil, and more “personal” in the United States in the sense
that economic opportunity is greater in the United States and thus those who are
poor are more likely to be so as a function of issues that limit their effectiveness in
competing in the economic system – such as educational success). In Brazil,
where poverty is to a larger degree imposed by the structures of society, there are
many individuals who would be competent enough to succeed if there were
more economic opportunity but who are consigned to poverty by the lack of it
(Garbarino 2008).
46.4 A Systems Approach to Human Ecology
Three specific principles underlie the ecology of human development

(Bronfenbrenner 1981). First, children are recognized as active participants who
influence, and are influenced by, the direct and indirect actions of others and
surrounding environmental systems. These reciprocal transactions create subjec-
tive, meaningful representation of experiences for children. Second, children, as
well as environments, adapt and respond accordingly to changes over time. Finally,
a series of interrelated systems – the micro-, meso-, exo-, and macrosystems –
directly and indirectly influence development. These structures merge to make up
the child’s human ecology.
Microsystems are immediate environments in which a child is influenced by
place, time, roles, and activities. This system has the most direct influence on
development (Bronfenbrenner 1981). Here, a child engages in activities,
which should become more complicated and meaningful with time. A reciprocal
relationship between the child and environment exists, meaning that not only does
the child influence surrounding environments but also environments influence the
biological and social outcomes of the child. In addition, across time, a child
develops cognitive, social, emotional, psychological, and behavioral competence,
which will enable him to assume more complicated social roles. And of course, by
engaging with others a child will form relationships with caregivers and
other family members. Each of these experiences will influence perception of
surrounding environments and future interactions.
The mesosystem – the relationship between two or more settings in which a child
is directly involved – also influences development (Bronfenbrenner 1981). A few
examples of mesosystem structures include relationships between a child’s home
and school, home and welfare and health-care institutions, and home and places of
faith. Similar to the microsystem, the extent to which a child is influenced by
mesosystem environments depends in part upon the strength of reciprocal trans-
actions, communication, and knowledge between settings. For example, the likeli-
hood that a child will be maltreated is in part a function of the degree to which
parents receive pro-social social support from surrounding environments to include
community levels resources and relationships. Similarly, it is widely known that
social workers, as well as other service agencies, must provide parents with
a feeling that the community they live in is willingness to communicate and
encourage participation (Bronfenbrenner 1981).
Many of the same principles (e.g., reciprocal relations, knowledge, and commu-
nications between settings) that apply to the mesosystem also apply to the
exosystem (Bronfenbrenner 1981). However, in contrast to the micro- and
mesosystems, children typically have no direct involvement or influence on deci-
sions made in the exosystem. Nevertheless, they are directly and indirectly affected
by decisions, legislation, and tenets set forth by policy makers, judges, and bureau-
cratic administrators at multiple levels of government (local, city, state, and
national levels) and private organizations.
1370 J. Garbarino
The macrosystem is a blueprint of how a society as a whole decides how it will

live and what and who it will value (Bronfenbrenner 1981). Within the
macrosystem lie the micro-, meso-, and exosystems, each of which is influenced
by the morals and values of a society. It is here where state and federal lawmakers,
judges, and international governmental bodies – such as the United Nations –
influence judicial decisions, legislation, and policies.
Once we lay out the interaction of the systems that represent the ecological
perspective, it gives us a framework within which to look at specific issues of child
well-being. To start, there is the microsystem of the family. It is possible to detect
changes in the composition, the constitution, and the configuration of the families
over time as microsystem issues. Divorce, early marriage, late marriage, all these
issues are very commonly addressed in child welfare can be put within the ecolog-
ical perspective as microsystem issue.
Mesosytems are the systematic connections between microsystems, connections
that reflect more than simply a child’s participation in two microsystems. There is,
for example, the school–home mesosystem that comes from the child being in both
places, but is more than this. It lies in the fact that if parents visit the school, it
establishes the home–school mesosytem just as if the teacher visits the home it
likewise creates the school–home mesosystem. One of the ways of analyzing the
shifting configuration of society and communities is to track the rise and fall of
these mesosytems, church-and-home, church-and-school, government-and-home,
government-and-school, and workplace-and-home. In some situations, work
becomes the microsystem of the child because the child actually participates
there, but in other situations, the microsystem of work is completely disconnected
from the child. Here is a conceptual tool that we can use to see how rich and knitted
together the community is. In general, child well-being issues at the mesosystem
level focus on the degree to which children experience mutual regard across
microsystems (as when school and home are congruent in valuing the values of
the school and the home).
Exosystem are the social systems that the child does not participate in directly,
but which have effects on the child’s life. If the child has no physical connection to
the parents’ place of work, that is an exosystem because what goes on there still has
an effect on the child’s life. Some of the important exosystems are agencies,
government bodies, foundations, other places where decisions are made that affect
child welfare, but the child does not participate directly. This is a principal domain
of child well-being, the nature of these exosytems and how they seek to enhance the
quality of the child’s experience and development, principally by how well they
support parents and teachers (and others who have direct contact with children in
microsystems).
Finally, there are the macrosystems, the big social and institutional blueprints of
the society: capitalism, communism, Catholicism, Hinduism, industrialization, and
urbanization, all of these big, social cultural forces. And here, almost paradoxically,
although they are far away from the child, they may actually come back close to the
child because they are manifested and embedded in consciousness – consciousness
of parents, consciousness of children, consciousness of professionals, and
consciousness of policy makers. For example, in some societies, there is a very

strong gender bias. In India, there might be a boy preference, and this can be played
out in a discriminatory policy about education. It might be played out in the
discriminatory policy about selective abortion, where girls are aborted rather than
boys because of preference for boys. This has been observed in China as well.
46.5 An Example: Democracy and Children from an Ecological

Perspective
One of the most important implications of an ecological perspective on child

development is its focus on the dynamics among the various systems – organismic,
micro-, meso-, exo-, and macrosystem. As an illustration, consider the question,
“What does ‘living in a democracy’ mean for kids?” (Garbarino 2011). This
question rises to the surface of our consciousness in the wake watching the impulse
for democracy literally explode in the past year in North Africa and the Middle
East, and over the last several decades around the world. It is an issue that taps
into many important social and intellectual issues. The classic work by political
scientists Almond and Verba (1963) referred to these macrosystem issues as
“the civic culture,” an examination of the habits of the mind and heart that define
human relationships in democratic societies.
The term “pluralistic” refers to a setting in which social agents and entities
represent different expectations, sanctions, and rewards for members of the society
but share an underlying commitment to the validity of divergent views and the
necessity of nonviolent structures and processes to resolve conflict. In pluralistic
societies differences generate intergroup conflict, which is regulated by a set of
ground rules (such as a constitution and a common commitment to the rule of law
despite individual interest in particular rulings and enforcement). This is the
essence of democracy. A monolithic setting, in contrast, is one in which all social
agents and entities are organized around loyalty to a single set of principles
and social organizations, and divergence from these values, norms, and structures
is treated as treason. In political terms, such societies are best understood as
“authoritarian” or “totalitarian.” Conversely, an anomic society is one in which
there is almost no integration; social agents and entities are either absent or
represent a multiplicity of profoundly divergent forces without any normative or
institutional coherence. In political terms, such societies are often referred to as
“failed states.”
When it is working well, democracy implies a set of social relationships infused
with a public discourse of respect for diversity in the context of consensus about the
importance of political commitments to harmonize self-interest and the legitimate
interests of others (Garbarino and Bronfenbrenner 1976). These conditions are both
the cause and effect of democracy. That is, it is difficult to create and maintain
political democracy in the absence of pluralism embedded in the institutions
of school, community, family, and religion. By the same token, when political
democracy is in place, it tends to infuse the panorama of social relationships with
1372 J. Garbarino
encouragement for pluralism. This is the essence of what Bronfenbrenner

deemed “macrosystems.” As such, it is an important dimension of child well-being.
Children and youth develop the habits of the mind and heart of democratic
pluralism, and thus become committed participants in the civic culture are a result
of their encounters with social and political realities as mediated by adults and peers.
The Jesuit educational motto “Give me a boy for his first 7 years and he is mine for
life” has a sound foundation in child development research. But it is incomplete,
however, for the next two 7-year periods are critical for political socialization. One
example of this line of influence is to be found in the work of the Search Institute
noted earlier, specifically on the role of 40 “developmental assets” in positive youth
development. Among many other issues, the Search Institute data address the link
between being rich in developmental assets and “valuing diversity,” operationalized
by asking, “How important is the following to you in your life? Getting to
know people who are of a different race than I am.” Overall, the more assets a
youth reports, the more likely he or she is to agree with the diversity item, from a low
point of 36 % for kids with 0–10 assets to a high of 88 % among kids with 31–40.
There is more to it than simply the kinds of socialization experiences tapped by
the 40 Developmental Assets (see www.search-institute.org for a complete list).
There are the social and political forces at work in the adult society in which these
developmental assets are forming and kids are experiencing them. Youth serve as
a kind of “social weathervane”: they mirror and internalize what is going on in
their society, particularly with respect to issues of authority and norms of civic
participation. Beyond the issue of valuing diversity as a foundation for pluralism is
the role of authority in the lives of kids as the make the transition from childhood to
adolescence.
The underlying hypothesis is that there is resonance between the way kids relate
to authority and the way in which authority is organized in the lives of adults in their
society. Presumably all the various manifestations of democratic culture infuse the
life experience of kids – how open the mass media are to presenting diverse
viewpoints and communicating respect across political lines; how well the political
process works to invoke trust that dissent and disagreement with political leaders
will be accepted as legitimate; how free educators feel both to express views that
diverge from political orthodoxy and to allow students to do so as well; in short,
how well adult society does in communicating democratic civic culture to kids. In
this spirit, we can examine the following analysis as a case study of this link
between the degree to which adult society manifests democratic pluralism
and how kids making the transition from childhood to adolescence balance and
incorporate adult- versus peer-oriented moral judgments.
This analysis is based upon a measure of “democracy” developed in the 1970s by
Vincent (1971) accounting for about 15 % of the variations among nation states.
It includes items such as “effective constitutional limits,” “freedom of group
opposition,” “free press,” “limited interest articulation by institutional groups,”
and “police and military politically neutral.” The moral judgment data derive
from a series of “moral dilemma” studies utilizing the “Moral Dilemma Test,”
developed by Bronfenbrenner (1961) and used widely during the period 1965
until 1979, thus paralleling the political data employed by Vincent in his analysis.
These moral dilemma studies pose problematic situations with choices that reflect
adult or peer orientation; resolution of the problem requires alignment with one side
or the other. For example, a child is told he/she finds the answers to an upcoming
math exam in a wastebasket in school and must either do what his/her peers want
(share the results with them) or what his/her parents would want (return the answer
sheet to the teacher). The procedure generates a score reflecting choices on a series
of five dilemmas – with total scores ranging between 25 and +25.
Figure 46.1 is a vehicle for examining the relationship between the way kids
approach social authority (peer- vs. adult-oriented judgments) in relation to the way
the adult society around them does so (via Vincent’s Democracy index) in the 17
nations for which both measures are available.
Democratic (pluralistic) nations show a much more balanced pattern of peer–
adult choice among 12-year-olds in matters of moral loyalty than do the totalitarian
(i.e., non-pluralistic) nations, whether they be communist or non-communist
regimes. The average moral dilemma scores for 12-year-olds in the totalitarian
nations is 10.28, while for the pluralistic nations, it is 2.20. Of course, there are
“cultural” variations in addition to the variations attributable to the pluralism score
(e.g., Canada and Israel have almost identical pluralism scores, but significantly
different moral dilemma scores, both located within the democratic cluster).
There are developmental issues embedded in the moral dilemma data as well. The
data come from the responses by 12-year-old boys and girls. This may be significant
because age 12 (with the onset of puberty in many cases) is generally the beginning of
the peer group’s challenge to adult authority – if there is to be one. This is manifest
in the fact that in one of the countries (Switzerland), data were collected not for
12-year-olds as was the norm for this protocol, but only for 13-year-olds. The moral
dilemma scores for Swiss kids were the only negative value obtained in any country
( 2.09, indicating a balance favoring peers over adults). As an expansion of this
point, when the data for Swedish kids are analyzed separately as they age from 11 to
14, their moral dilemma scores move in the direction of peers: 6.68 for 11-year-olds,
2.33 for 12-year-olds, 0.57 for 13-year-olds, and 3.72 for 14-year-olds.
This analysis illustrates an ecological perspective that can be brought to bear
in understanding issues of child well-being because it incorporates the various
elements of that ecological perspective and reveals how developmental pathways
arise in the context of social, cultural, and psychological forces. Cultural forces that
direct and infuse institutions may seem at first glance to be far away from child
development, but may actually be close to children because they become part of
consciousness.
46.6 Applying the Ecological Perspective to the Human Rights

of Children
This perspective is useful in addressing a wide range of child well-being issues. For
example, gender issues about work are common. Who can work? Who gets paid more?
1374 J. Garbarino
Pluralism Score
+ 2.00
United States
West German
Switzerland Netherlands
Sweden Japan
+1.00
United Kingdom
Israel New Zealand
Canada
South Korea
−1.00 Nigeria
Brazil
USSR
Czechoslovakia Hungary
Poland
−2.00
− 5.00 0.00 +5.00 +10.00 +15.00
Moral Dilemma Score
Fig. 46.1 Relation of pluralism scores to moral dilemma scores for 17 nations
Who gets paid less? When do children start to work? If there is a choice between going
to school and going to work, does gender determine which child goes to school, which
child stays home? These macrosystem issues of culture influence the exosystems,
influence the microsystems, and actually influence the individual children and their
individual parents and teachers.
With this analysis of the ecological perspective as a conceptual introduction,
we may proceed to consider how the concept of child well-being can be set within
an ecological perspective. We start with a moral imperative: the human rights
of children. As State parties to the UN Convention on the Rights of the Child,

societies have committed themselves to the priorities and values embedded in
that document (and even the principal “rogue” nation on this score, the
United States, has felt compelled to consider these core values even without
having ratified the Convention – as in the US Supreme Court decision
defining the execution of minors to be in conflict with the global consensus on
this point).
Central to any society’s obligation is a commitment to give priority to the needs
of children for nurturing, protective, and supportive relationships. As Article 3 of
the UN Convention puts it, “Those responsible for children must make the best
interests of the child a primary consideration.”
How do we set these human rights of children issues within an ecological
context? What are the human rights of children with respect to the nurturing
and supporting relationships? The answer, of course is “it depends.” It depends
upon the particular conditions of the society in which the UN Convention on
the Rights of the Child is being implemented. For example, in wealthy,
well-functioning economies, the key issue may be the right of children of
working-class parents to benefit from day care services (Article 18). Or, if
conditions cultural and social conditions cause the flourishing of child trafficking
and exploitation of children by nonparental adults in the sex trade, the key may
be policies and procedures to prevent illicit transfer of children (Article 11).
In countries with very low levels of poverty and high levels of economic adequacy,
the focus may be on the rights to expression (Articles 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, and 17)
and protection from child maltreatment in the home (Articles 19, 22, 32, 33,
and 37). For countries facing a large influx of immigrants or refugees, the
most pressing children’s rights issues may be those of identity (Article 7 and 8).
Which rights are the biggest issue? It depends. But the UN Convention is clear
that the human rights of children revolve around protecting their dignity by
protecting them from maltreatment and from the structural violence of poverty
and oppression.
In societies with high levels of poverty, the most pressing commitment is usually
the right to a healthy childhood uncorrelated with family income. Put another way, it
is a commitment of State and private resources to ensure that the care young children
receive should not depend upon their parents’ economic success (Article 24).
In most societies, if the national economy is allowed to function without humane
guidance, families with young children are more likely to be poor that other
segments of the population. Whether this occurs or not is matter of public policy
(Article 27). Public intervention (and to some degree, the actions of
nongovernmental organizations) can weaken the link between being a young child
and being poor. A commitment to doing so is inherent in the act of ratifying the UN
Convention on the Rights of the Child.
It is a fundamental matter of public policy – and a matter of human rights – that
vulnerable categories of the population be protected from the “natural” workings of
the economic system. Such a policy can succeed. For example, in the United States,
prior to the 1960s, the poverty rate for the elderly exceeded that of the rate for
1376 J. Garbarino
young children. But a massive social intervention changed this, and the elderly have
consistently had a lower poverty rate than families with young children for the last
four decades.
The principal policy concern of those who would enhance the development of
young children is the degree to which poverty is allowed to affect the status
and prospects of infants and young children by undermining the capacity and
motivation of adults in their lives to enter into stable relationships of the heart
with them. To the degree that poverty fractures families, distracts parents, results in
substandard out of family care, and devalues children in the community, it becomes
a social toxin.
46.7 Poverty as a Primary Threat to Child Well-Being
What does it mean to be poor? In one sense, this question is easy to answer:
government agencies and nongovernmental organizations around the world com-
pute numerical definitions that set cut offs. Globally, the focus is on the “poverty”
represented by families existing on US $2 per day (or US $730 dollars a year) and
“extreme poverty” represented by those families living on US $1 per day (US $365
per year). There are a bit more than two billion children in the world. Half live in
poverty of this sort.
For a child in a society that is not committed to child protection in its broadest
sense, being poor means being at statistical risk. Poverty early in life is
a special threat to development, because at the most basic level if unchecked, it
can compromise a child’s biological and psychological systems. Research shows
that unless there is intensive and massive intervention designed to protect them
from the “natural” consequences of poverty, poor children live in the kinds of
environments that generate multiple threats to development as academic failure,
maltreatment, and learning disabilities.
What is this intensive and massive intervention? It takes the form of nutrition
programs the feed children independent of parental income (e.g., providing break-
fast and lunch to students at preschool, nursery, and elementary school programs),
maternal–infant care programs that prevent dangerous prenatal conditions and that
detect and treat dangerous medical conditions during infancy if they cannot be
prevented, high quality child care for children of working parents at low or no cost
to poor families, literacy promotion programs that demonstrate to children that
literacy is valued in the society and in their family, and other elements of a system
of child care that is in fact caring.
Around the world, according to the United Nations (World Bank 2008), some
30,000 children die each day due to conditions associated with or directly resulting
from poverty. That is 210,000 per week and 11 million per year. They die because
they lack access to basic sanitation and health care, lack adequate food, and
experience other toxic factors that can be linked to poverty.
That is one clear meaning of being poor in any society that allows the state of
children to be highly correlated with the economic status of that child’s family
(particularly if it is not a wealthy society to start with). If society allows it, being
poor exposes children to more physical toxicity as well. Low-income populations
are more likely to be exposed to chemical and radioactive waste and polluted air
and water. But these toxic factors can be “unlinked” through social policies and
programs that assert and support the human rights of children, in short, through
policies and programs that support child care in its broadest sense.
How does that “unlinking” happen? In Canada, it has meant providing a real
safety net of social and health services for poor children (policies and programs
often presented as human rights issues). As a result, for example, when we compare
the results of research in Canada assessing the strength of the link between poverty
and child abuse with similar research from the United States (where the safety net is
not viewed as a human right, and thus access to basic health care is always
conditional), we find the link is stronger in the United States than in Canada
(Clement and Bouchard 2005). In statistical terms, this means the correlation
between the demographic and economic indicators of poverty and rates of child
maltreatment is higher in the US than it is in Canada (or at least it was when the
research was done in the 1980s and 1990s) (Garbarino 2008).
In Brazil, one form the effort to unlink poverty from toxic conditions for children
has taken is the government campaign called “Zero Hunger.” Of course, from the
perspective of the basic human rights of children, access to three meals a day should
be part of a larger commitment to the proposition that access to basic education and
essential health care should not be dictated by a child’s parents’ income.
The starting point for any discussion of the well-being care of children is always
a focus on their human rights. As noted before, the relative priority of these issues
depends upon the ecological “niche” in which a child is born. Thus, for families
with adequate incomes, the most salient issues may be the child’s right to have
access to parents (translated into day care, parental leave, and custody policies and
practices). For countries experiencing particularly severe problems with child
trafficking and sexual exploitation, it may take the form of efforts to empower
police and child protection authorities to assume custody of children detached from
their parents and seek reunification. For countries with significant ethnic and/or
racial minorities who have experienced historical oppression, it may take the form
of compensatory early education programs (like Head Start in the United States)
designed to redress accumulated educational deficits.
But in the context of societies with high levels of poverty, these core children’s
human rights issues are manifest as the question of whether or not a society will
mobilize its resources to shield children from the economic consequences of their
parent’s economic success or failure. The next step is to see how extreme poverty is
fundamentally a human rights issue and how approaching it from that perspective
is the key to eradicating poverty and thus nurturing young children.
Two world-renowned economists (Jeffrey Sachs of the Earth Institute’s
Millenium Villages Project and Grameen Bank’s Muhammad Yunus) seek to
eradicate poverty through a massive global intervention that goes beyond the
traditional mix of the infrastructure to support economic activity and job creation
and capital accumulation. What is the essence of this intervention? It is to
1378 J. Garbarino
implement a basic human rights campaign as a means for stimulating economic

growth among those in extreme poverty – the one billion people worldwide (among
them the 40 million Brazilians) who live on $1.00 per day.
Although not explicitly conceived and promoted as a human rights campaign,
these efforts are best thought in these terms. The key is that Sachs and Yunus do not
focus on “abstract” human rights – the rights to free expression, to political
independence, to legal due process, and so on. Rather, they focus on the human
rights issues that are paramount in the context of extreme poverty – the concrete
basic human rights to be free from hunger, to have drinkable water, to be free from
debilitating disease – and while he is at it, to help them have sufficient credit
resources to have access to some small means of production (like more productive
seeds and fertilizer for impoverished farmers and tools for village women workers).
Sachs and Yunus advocate for meeting these human rights challenges not as an end
unto itself, but as a means to promote economic development that will eradicate
poverty.
In his book The End of Poverty, Jeffery Sachs shows how this approach flows
from an analysis of why people are extremely poor, namely, that they are too sick,
weak, and hungry to be very productive. It makes sense. And it makes particular
sense that in this state, parental ability to meet the developmental needs of children
tends to be quite limited. Basic economic development of the sort envisioned by
Sachs and Yunus can thus benefit infants and young children both directly
(by increasing their nutritional intake and access to basic care) and indirectly
(by improving the role models presented to children by their parents).
But will these efforts succeed in eradicating poverty and thus improving the
development of infants and young children? Probably not. Why? Because there are
so many political leaders who have self-interested agendas, because there are so
many sources of violent conflict that can and will disrupt efforts to promote the
basic human rights to which the program is directed, because the developmentally
hobbling traditions of many local cultures in many areas of extreme poverty
(like patriarchal-based oppression of girls and women) will get in the way, because
issues of global warming and climate change will undermine the effectiveness of
many local community interventions, and finally, because too many people are too
self-involved and preoccupied to support the effort in the long run. In short, the
long-term threats to child well-being posed by social toxicity in the human ecology
are substantial and have proved themselves to be largely intractable.
Nonetheless, despite the built-in impediments to Grameen Bank, the
Millenium Villages Project, and other efforts that adopt the same model, Yunus
and Sachs are correct in their analysis and their strategy, and they will help protect
many children from poverty and increase child well-being. What is more, these
intervention and any others that parallel them are the only efforts that will do
anything substantial to reduce the fundamental violence of human rights that is
extreme poverty. Traditional capital-intensive infrastructure projects are of only
limited value when they do not accompany the microenterprise and health pro-
grams envision by Yunus and Sachs. But there is more to this than simply
increasing economic assets for the very poor, particularly if our concern is the
welfare and development of children. This takes us to the psychology of poverty

and its implications for child development from an ecological perspective.
Being poor is about being left out of what your society tells people they could
expect if there were included. This is relative poverty. At root, it is a social issue, an
issue captured in a question a child asked at the conclusion of the interview being
conducted with him as part of a psychological assessment. He asked, “when you
were growing up were you poor or regular?” (Garbarino 2008).
That is it precisely: are you poor or regular. Being poor means being negatively
different; it means not meeting the basic standards set by your society. It is not so
much a matter of what you have as of what you do not have compared to what your
peers have. It means being ashamed of who you are – and that in and of itself can be
an instigator of violence toward self and others as well as a host of other negative
developmental trajectories. All of this has direct implications for child well-being.
When Gandhi said that poverty is the worst form of violence he was on the mark.
When Sachs and Yunus say that only by mobilizing an intervention to guarantee the
basic human rights that extreme poverty violates can there be economic peace they
also exactly correct. They are correct in part because of a global trend toward
economic inequality which reduces the impact of any general increase in wealth.
46.8 Poverty in Context: The Role of Economic Inequality
Globally, the data indicate growing economic inequality among societies as

modernization has moved forward. Wealth is possible in dramatically different
ways since the advent of technologically driven modern economic systems, and an
analysis of long-term trends presented in the 1999 Human Development Reports
from the United Nations Development Program reveals that the gap between rich
and poor countries (expressed as the ratio of wealth in the richest to wealth in the
poorest) has grown since the early 1800s:
• 3 to 1 in 1820
• 11 to 1 in 1913
• 35 to 1 in 1950
• 44 to 1 in 1973
• 72 to 1 in 1992
There are several approaches to measuring this economic inequality. The
Luxembourg Income Study compared the ratio of incomes for the top 10 % of the
population with that of the bottom 10 % among 31 countries. These comparisons
were made after taxes and income transfers are taken into account (because
a society’s economy may generate inequality but its political system can seek to
reduce that inequality by income redistribution programs that supplement the
incomes of the poor directly and/or fund public services like education, health
care, and recreation so that family income becomes less of a factor in the quality of
life for children). Using this approach, the study revealed that among industrialized
“rich” countries, the United States had the worst ratio – about six to one – while
Sweden had the best – about two to one (with Canada at four to one and no country
1380 J. Garbarino
other than the United States above four to one). This is one study, but it is consistent
with global analyses of economic inequality such as those based upon the Gini Index.
The Gini Index is perhaps the best statistical measure of economic inequality
because it compares a country’s divergence from complete income inequality
(i.e., if each 10 % of the population receives 10 % of the income, the Gini score
would be zero, and if the top 10 % controlled all the income, it would be nearly
100). Scandinavian countries usually report the lowest Gini Indices – for example,
Denmark’s score of 24 – and most industrialized nations have scores of about 30
(the United States is at 41 and has increased 20 % in recent decades). The
worst countries (i.e., the countries with the most inequality) have scores of about
70 (e.g., Namibia’s score of 71).
46.9 Little Matters of Life and Death: Child Survival
Infant mortality is one of the best simple indicators of the material quality of life in
any society, the answer to the question, “how many babies die in the first year of
life?” There are many amplifications of this number of course, for example, the
child mortality rate after age one and before age five, the rate of environmentally
induced mental retardation, and the growth and height curves of the children. But
infant mortality is a good measure in part because it represents and is correlated
with a host of variables linked to the degree to which children are well cared for. It
is a good starting point in efforts to assess child well-being.
The underlying reality of the matter is that if the basic human rights to physical
and social care institutions (maternal–infant clinics, day care centers, churches,
local governments, schools, basic economic resources) are functioning well, par-
ents will care for children, and children will survive. And if they survive – and not
seriously malnourished, drastically neglected, or chronically sick – children will
smile. It is good to be alive, even if your playground is a garbage dump, even if your
toys are pieces of junk, even if your food is boring and tasteless. Thus, if the
important adults in the lives of infants and children are present and not psycholog-
ically or physically incapacitated because of economic stress or oppression – in
other words so long as there in an intact structure of adult support that enables
parents to care for children – children can take advantage of subsequent educational
opportunities presented to them by schools and other educational influences in the
community and the society (e.g., educational television and community education
campaigns). Whether or not these “subsequent educational opportunities” are in
fact provided to children and adolescents is another matter of policy and practice
(one beyond the scope of the present analysis).
Of course, if the conditions of life conspire against parents – particularly mothers –
to the degree that they become depressed and apathetic the quality of care experience
by infants and young children deteriorates. Research from many societies reveals
that the quality of care for infants and young children tends to decline when mothers
are depressed and thus become “psychologically unavailable.” Thus, one measure of
the degree to which a society “cares” for its children zero to three is the degree to
which it supports mothers – through financial subsidies like “child allowances,”

through social arrangements that offer respite care and other child care support
services, and through mental health interventions to prevent or reduce depression.
All of these interventions serve to ensure the survival of infants.
Usually expressed as the number of infants per 1,000 live births who die before
their first birthday, the infant mortality rate says a great deal about how well
communities are doing in meeting basic human needs, particularly health and
nutritional needs. Why? Because without unlinking interventions, it is correlated
with poverty and the availability of medical technology.
So it is that infant mortality directly reflects the political priorities of a society.
Societies with equal resources sometimes have very different rates of infant
mortality – as is true of neighborhoods and communities within societies. On the
whole, the number of babies who die reflects a society’s willingness and ability
to marshal its resources on behalf of its next generation. A highly motivated
community can lower infant mortality significantly without fundamentally altering
the socioeconomic order by providing good maternal/infant care, prenatally and
postnatally. Being born to a poor family need not be a death sentence for a baby.
In the United States, for example, between 1920 and 1980, infant mortality
decreased from about 80 per 1,000 to about 12 per 1,000 (the figure was double that
for non-Whites) due mainly to improved public health measures and provision of
maternal–infant care. By 2003, it was under 10 per 1,000. The world leaders on this
score post figures of about 4 per 1,000, but anything 10 and under is good by
international standards (Garbarino 2008).
But infant mortality goes up in times of deteriorating social and economic
conditions for families, particularly families otherwise at risk, such as unmarried
teenagers and large, low-income households. In the United States, as the recession
of the early 1980s deepened, infant mortality rates began to creep up in the areas
hardest hit by economic disintegration. It was not from lack of wealth in the society
as a whole during this period that this occurred, but rather from the way wealth was
accumulated and distributed.
This paralleled a global pattern. During the period 1980–1998 as the global
economy flourished, progress in reducing infant mortality around the world slowed
considerably when compared with the previous two decades, when more societies
were committed to social progress rather than simply fitting into the emerging
global economy.
In Brazil, for example, the boom years of the 1960s and 1970s resulted in large
increases in GNP, but did not produce dramatic improvements in the infant mor-
tality rate commensurate with the growing total wealth of the society (Garbarino
2008). In the mid-1980s, the officially reported rate was about 80 per 1,000 for the
richest, most developed of Brazil’s states such as Rio de Janeiro, and reached 130
per 1,000 in the poorer states such as Bahia. At the same time, there was evidence of
deteriorating social and economic conditions as more and more families crossed the
line from being poor to being impoverished. The result was increased infant
mortality, and (among those infants who did survive these harsh conditions) more
and more children and youth subsequently becoming “orphans with living parents.”
1382 J. Garbarino
All this can change when national policy is guided by a focus on the protecting the
human rights of children as laid out in the UN Convention on the Rights of the Child.
Such a child well-being policy that focuses upon protecting the human rights of
young children finds support in systematic research in the United States and
elsewhere, most notably in the work of David Olds and his colleagues over the
last 30 years to develop, perfect, implement, and evaluate the “nurse home visitor
model.” Olds and his team have demonstrated the effectiveness and cost–benefit
ratios that come with providing nurses who visit high-risk families, starting prena-
tally with the first pregnancy and continuing for the first 2 years of the child’s life.
These efforts have dramatically reduced child maltreatment and maternal and
infant health concerns in the short run, and various social problems (e.g., delin-
quency, teenage pregnancy, and welfare dependency) in the long run. No zero to
three programs can immunize children against later social threats and risk factors,
but such efforts can ensure that the child has the maximum capacity to profit from
later developmental opportunities and demonstrate resilience in the face of adver-
sity. However, simply accomplishing this much is a major improvement in the life
any society with poor and at-risk families, and reflects a conscious policy of setting
a high priority on investments that nurture and support infants and young children
by nurturing and supporting the adults who care for them.
46.10 Acceptance–Rejection as a Macrosystem Issue Affecting

Child Well-Being
Perhaps one of the important elements of this investment is represented by the

process by which national leadership can validate the self-worth of marginal poor
parents. Anthropologist Nancy Scheper-Hughes (1993) conducted an important
study of poor marginalized Brazilian parents. In her study, she found that these
parents were so demoralized and hopeless in their “world view,” that they too
readily gave up on young children when the children became ill – and in so doing
hastened the death of the sick child.
One of the ways that public policy makers and political leaders can improve the
care of children zero to three is to inspire hope and a feeling of validation in parents
and other adults who care for poor children – teachers, nurses, pediatricians, child
welfare workers, and others whose job it is to protect and promote the development
of young children. Perhaps an example from the United States will make clear this
possibility.
During the Great Depression in the 1930s large numbers of American workers
were unemployed because of the economic crisis and felt despair, fear, and anger
that through no fault of their own they were being impoverished. Debate continues
among historians and economists about the exact causes of the Depression and the
strategies and tactics used to deal with it by the national government and other
public policy entities. What does seem clear is that the actions of President Franklin
Roosevelt, a Democrat elected to lead the nation in 1932, played an important role
in inspiring demoralized unemployed workers, who prior to his arrival on the
national scene felt betrayed and abandoned by the national political leadership and
business leaders who were their allies. The renowned American writer John Updike
(2007) was a child during the 1930s and recalls observing his own unemployed
father’s desolation, and his reaction to the policies and words of President
Roosevelt:
My father had been reared a Republican, but he switched parties to vote for Roosevelt and
never switched back. His memory of being abandoned by society and big business never
left him and, for all his paternal kindness and humorousness, communicated itself to me,
along with his preference for the political party that offered ‘the forgotten man’ the better
break. Roosevelt made such people feel less alone. The impression of recovery—the
impression that a President was bending the old rules and, drawing upon his own courage
and flamboyance in adversity and illness, stirring things up on behalf of the down-and-
out—mattered more than any miscalculations in the moot mathematics of economics.
46.11 Summary
Specific prevention and intervention programs can make concrete improvements in

the well-being of children, but only if parents are motivated to enroll their children
and demonstrate support for the goals and objectives of the program. One important
element in the success of these early intervention programs is the degree to which
the larger human ecology supports and nurtures them, and communicates a sense of
their importance to parents, grandparents, and other adults in the community.
A public national commitment to protecting the human rights of the poor and
their children in the spirit of Franklin Roosevelt contributes to a culture of affirma-
tion that enhances the motivation of at-risk parents to participate in and support
developmentally enhancing programs for their children. Will this be enough? As
always, the answer is as it always is from an ecological perspective, “it depends.”
But if the commitment to support relationships of the heart for young children is
fulfilled, the future holds great promise of human improvement.
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Section VIII
Economy/Material Well-Being
Poverty and Social Exclusion
47
Gerry Redmond
47.1 Introduction
After a hiatus of some decades, the definition of poverty is now back in fashion as
a subject for serious academic consideration (Alkire and Foster 2011a; Kanbur and
Grusky 2006; Lister 2004; Spicker 2007). However, the debate on poverty has
moved to new territories, encompassing a broader range of issues than before and
becoming entangled in concurrent debates on well-being, capabilities, freedom,
human rights, social relations, and agency. Or has it? The shifting of the poverty
debate to new ground can arguably be interpreted in two ways. First is that the strict
definition of poverty has remained much the same – inadequate command over
economic resources (Atkinson 1989). Under this interpretation, a wide range of
interests have sought to capture the emotive and powerful associations that people
often attach to poverty in order to further particular agendas, such as human rights,
educational opportunities, access to health care, equality for ethnic minorities, or
political freedom. But really, they are talking about different things that merely
muddy and confuse poverty debates?
The second interpretation would suggest that while in a strict sense Atkinson’s
definition still holds, it is now more widely recognized that lack of command over
economic resources in itself is problematic because it tends to be associated with
a range of outcomes that are of intrinsic importance, for example, participating fully
in the life of one’s community, or leading a life that one has reason to value
(Sen 1999). This interpretation also allows space for more “bottom-up” approaches
to counter criticisms that poverty has for too long been characterized as an objective
condition that is assigned by experts to individuals, with the individuals themselves
G. Redmond
School of Social and Policy Studies, Flinders University, Adelaide, South Australia, Australia

1388 G. Redmond
being “objectified” and given no say in their own status (Chambers 1997; Lister
2004; Narayan-Parker et al. 2000).
What Kanbur and Squire (1999, p.1) call the “progressive broadening of the
definition and measurement of poverty” raises an important issue for this chapter:
what are the implications for children of the different definitions of poverty? While
there is now quite a literature on the overall implications of measuring poverty
using different approaches (Alkire and Foster 2011b; Kanbur and Squire 1999;
Ruggeri Laderchi et al. 2003; Wagle 2002), there has been rather less discussion
on the implications of this wider debate for children. The main aim of this chapter
will therefore be to evaluate the literature that considers the definition and meaning
of poverty in order to assess its implications for children. This literature encom-
passes a number of competing and complementary terms – deprivation, exclusion,
underclass, and capabilities, to name a few. These terms are sometimes conflated
with “poverty.” To the extent possible, this chapter seeks to define these terms
separately and analyze them as distinct aspects of the wider debate on child poverty.
Poverty is also commonly associated with a low standard of living. The standard
of living as Sen (1987) recognizes is at the one time a universally understood term
and at the same time inherently subjective the way it is universally understood. Sen
argues that a person might consider herself to have a high standard of living because
she lives near the sea. But if she puts greater value on living in the mountains, then
she might not consider her standard of living to be so high. Or, she may consider
herself to have a high standard of living because she has a higher income this year
than last. But another person in the same “objective” situation might not consider
themselves to be so lucky. So, while everyone uses the term “standard of living” as
if it were universally understood, actual understandings can differ among people
and over time. In other words, the standard of living is a measure of resources for
well-being, but should not be seen as equivalent to well-being. So it is with
discourse on poverty. As Himmelfarb (1984) makes clear in her analysis of the
evolution of poverty as a “social problem” in Elizabethan England, debates about
poverty are inherently value laden. It is the job of the analyst or researcher to make
those values she is working with as explicit as possible.
It is worth noting at the outset a fundamental assumption that underlies
most poverty analysis: that being poor is discretely different from being nonpoor
(Alkire and Foster 2011b; Callan and Nolan 1991; Lewis and Ulph 1988; Amartya Sen
1976). This is apparent in Townsend’s (1979) hypothesis that as a household’s
resources diminish, a point is reached where withdrawal from participation in customs
and activities considered normal in the community accelerates, and in Sen’s conten-
tion that there is “an irreducible absolutist core in the idea of poverty” (1983, p. 159). It
is also central to theories of “underclass” (Murray 1984, 1990) and in Lister’s (2004)
argument that poverty should be viewed as a social relation between the “poor” and the
“nonpoor.” Many analysts highlight uncertainties in the ascription of poverty to
individuals or households (see, e.g., Burchardt et al. 2002; Cheli and Lemmi 1995).
Nonetheless, the assumption remains that it is important to identify poor people
(and poor children) because they experience some fundamental deficits that impact
on their lives and opportunities in a basic and absolute way, or that differentiates them
47 Poverty and Social Exclusion 1389
from the rest of society. To remove this assumption is to move away from poverty
analysis and into examination of inequality (Lewis and Ulph 1988).
This chapter follows a pattern of considering poverty first in term of lack of
command over economic resources and then gradually broadens the informational
field to take into consideration wider aspects of children’s well-being and develop-
ment associated with opportunities, capabilities, and exclusion. Section 47.2
describes approaches to defining and measuring child poverty as a lack of material
resources – income and consumption poverty, and absolute and relative deprivation.
This section is the longest, not because it is more important than the other sections,
but because literature on material poverty is the most developed. Section 47.3 looks at
child poverty and human development, encompassing the capabilities approach, the
issue of poverty and human rights, and the relationship between poverty and mortal-
ity. Section 47.4 considers child poverty as a social relation: the underclass thesis,
social exclusion, and participative approaches to poverty definition and analysis.
Section 47.5 sums up with an appraisal of the implications of the different approaches
discussed here for the examination of child poverty.
47.2 Poverty as Lack of Material Resources
The poverty debate begins with the definition of poverty as a lack of material resources:
According to normal usage poverty is ‘The state of one who lacks a usual or socially
acceptable amount of money or material possessions.’ This definition contains two impor-
tant ideas. First, the definition of poverty will be different at different times and in different
societies – what is ‘socially acceptable’ in, say, India may differ from that in the U.S.A.
And second, the focus is on the ability to purchase goods and services (money) or on their
ownership (material possessions). (Kanbur and Squire 1999, p. 3)
This simple conceptualization (or ones very similar) has probably engendered
a larger literature than all other considerations of poverty and associated issues put
together. In particular, one popular image of poverty is a serious deficit in income or
consumption. (Another popular image, that of underclass, is discussed in Sect. 47.4.)
Poverty definition and measurement using these two concepts of resources is
discussed in Sect. 47.2.1 below. Section 47.2.2 deals with poverty as deprivation,
which may be defined as the lack of a specific set of goods or commodities that are
considered necessary for survival or for participation in the life of one’s community.
In both of these sections, the focus is on objective measures of poverty.
47.2.1 Income and Consumption Poverty
The “traditional” approach to poverty measurement is to derive a distribution of

resources for a sample of households or families, draw a poverty line through that
distribution, and call those whose incomes/consumption are less than the threshold
“poor.” The choice of income or consumption as an indicator for poverty
1390 G. Redmond
(3) Aggregation to an index

1 n β
N i =1 (Y – y i )
b = 0 headcount ratio
b = 1 poverty gap index
b = 2 poverty gap index squared
f(y)
(1) Resources — f ( y )
a. definition
b. unit of analysis
c. equivalence Scale
d. sharing assumption
(2) Identification of the poor by
setting a minimum threshold — Y
a. Reference to general population
- Absolute or Relative
b. Updating over time
Fixed or Moving
Fig. 47.1 Schematic representation of three issues in the derivation of an economic welfare-
based poverty rate (Source: Adapted from Corak (2006), Fig. 1)
measurement is almost a default, both in the popular imagination and in economic and
social analysis. The use of income or consumption suggests that at face value, poverty
is not about lack of well-being, or unhappiness, or failure to attain certain statuses, or
consume certain products. It is simply about having a low level of overall income or
consumption. As Atkinson (1989) puts it, the definition of income or consumption as
the concept of resources for poverty measurement means that the analytical concern is
with Y, the level of resources, and not U(Y), the individual’s or household’s personal
sense of well-being. Although as Hagenaars rightly argues, “every poverty line can be
seen to be based on a definition of welfare” (1986, p.11), this relationship can become
somewhat detached in practice, such is the number of assumptions that need to be
made in translating a definition of income or consumption into a poverty measure. As
Orshansky eloquently puts it, “For deciding who is poor, prayers are more relevant
than calculation because poverty, like beauty, lies in the eye of the beholder” (1969,
p. 37). Figure 47.1 (adapted from Corak 2005) highlights four classes of choices.
Which resources? What unit of analysis – household, family, individual, and (related)
how to account for differences in within units of greater than one person? And how to
equivalize? These questions are worth considering in more detail.
47.2.1.1 Income or Consumption?

First, which is the better indicator of a household’s or person’s resources: income or
consumption? While the former can be characterized as a measure of consumption
potential, the latter is perhaps more closely related to actual living. As such, it takes
into account some contributions to living standards that a measure of income does
not, such as the ability to run down savings or to borrow (Atkinson 1989). Income,
on the other hand, takes into account the ability to save. Summing up the differ-
ences between the two measures, Atkinson concludes:
In considering these approaches to the indicator of poverty, we can discern two rather
different conceptions. The first is concerned with the standard of living, and it leads in the
direction of studying total expenditure (or the consumption of specific commodities). This
approach is perhaps the natural one for those who see concern for poverty as stemming
from individual caring or compassion for others (or utility interdependence). The second
conception is that of poverty as concerned with the right to a minimum level of resources.
On this basis, families are entitled, as citizens, to a minimum income, the disposal of which
is a matter for them. This approach may be more appealing to those who see concern for
poverty as based on a notion as to what constitutes a good society. (Atkinson 1989, p. 12)
Linked to both concepts is the role of children as dependants in a household

where adults usually earn most of the income, and control most of the expenditure.
While a given level of consumption may suggest a particular standard of living for
a household, that standard of living may not necessarily be shared among all
household members, with children being particularly susceptible to favorable
treatment (especially from their mothers), or discrimination (Browning 1992;
Grogan 2004; Middleton et al. 1997). (Sen (1987) is critical of such a suggestion
on different grounds, as will be discussed in Sect. 47.3.) Where income is used as
the measure of resources, Bradbury and Jantti (1999) point out that saving that is
made from income (e.g., in the form of purchase of life insurance, superannuation,
or home purchase) is likely to be of considerably more benefit to parents than their
children and should be subtracted from any income measure that is used in the
evaluation of child well-being.
This question of how savings should be treated is part of a much larger set of choices
relating to the definition of resources (i.e., apart from the overall choice of income or
consumption). Which income (e.g., gross or net, including estimates of in-kind income,
or the value of home production)? Or which consumption? Often, choices are deter-
mined by expediency – the availability of relevant data being an acute concern (see
Smeeding and Weinberg 2001 for a fuller discussion of income definitions).
47.2.1.2 Unit of Analysis

Aside from the individual, as partially used in Gordon et al. (2003), and more
satisfactorily used (albeit in mostly qualitative work) by Ridge (2002), com-
monly used units of analysis for child well-being are the family unit (parents plus
dependent children who live with them, and sometimes also nondependent chil-
dren who live with them), and the household. Analyses that use consumption as
the measure of resources tend toward the household as the unit of analysis, since
many resources (e.g., the home itself, lighting, heating) are assumed to be shared
at that level. Analyses that use income as the unit of resources focus on both
family and household. Differences can be important. Redmond (1999) shows that
in Australia over time adult children living with their parents have moved on
average from being net contributors to household income, to being net recipients.
In rich countries such as Australia, most children live in households with only
1392 G. Redmond
their siblings and parents. In poorer countries, however, where children are more
likely to live in extended families, the unit of analysis may be a more critical issue
and has been little explored in the child poverty literature. In both poor and rich
countries, the stability of the unit of analysis needs greater attention in studies of
poverty and exclusion.
Equally important (and relatively unexplored) is the role of divorced and sepa-
rated parents not living with the child, the extended family, and others in the
community in supporting children across households. A recent Australian study,
for example, shows that almost one in five children receives regular care from
grandparents (Gray et al. 2005). Studies from South Africa show the important role
that the universal pension paid to persons over retirement age plays in supporting
children (Duflo 2000). This support may perhaps not always come in the form of
transfers to the parents of the child but sometimes direct to the child herself in the
form of meals, clothing, payments for education, etc.
47.2.1.3 Intrahousehold Distribution

There is now a large literature on the distribution of resources within the household
(for a review, see Browning 1992). Much of this literature is theoretical (see Becker
1981), and empirical evidence is still relatively scarce, perhaps because it is difficult
for researchers to enter into the “black box” of the family to understand fully the
complex dynamics of distribution of goods, services, and favors. Limited existing
research does point to a number of findings that are relevant to the study of child
poverty. Perhaps the most important of these is that mothers across a range of cultures
tend to share a greater part of their incomes with their children than is the case with
fathers and appear to make greater personal sacrifices for their children (Grogan
2004; Middleton et al. 1997). A second finding is that once family income increases
above a certain threshold, a smaller proportion is devoted to children (Henman 2005
makes such a finding for Australia). However, as Cockburn, Dauphin et al. point out:
The absence of empirical studies looking at the effect of intrahousehold allocation of

resources on child poverty measurement is very surprising since many child poverty studies
are acknowledging the importance of taking intrahousehold inequality into account.
(Cockburn et al. 2006, p. 3)
In spite of many studies acknowledging the importance of intrahousehold distribu-

tion (see, e.g., Bradbury and Jantti 1999; Corak 2005), it has always seemed somewhat
marginal to debates about child poverty in both rich and developing countries. Feminist
critiques of the unitary model of the household have arguably had a greater impact on
assumptions about intrahousehold sharing, and these could usefully be applied to the
problem of child poverty. Hill (2005) draws on Jenkins (1991) and Phipps and Burton
(1995) to develop a number of different models of intrahousehold sharing based on
principles of equal sharing and on information on relative personal income shares in
total household income. In the absence of adequate empirical data regarding the impact
on child poverty of intrahousehold allocations, similar models could be applied to the
analysis of child poverty in order to develop a picture of the likely implications of
different sharing arrangements on the resources expended on individual children.
47.2.1.4 Economies of Scale

As with the related concept of intrahousehold distribution, there is also a large
child-specific literature on assumptions about economies of scale in household
consumption. One necessary step in any analysis of household resources and
individual well-being, or in the comparison of two households of different compo-
sition and size, is the equivalization of those resources to attribute a portion of
household resources to each household member. This allows a form of comparison
between individuals rather than between households and formally allows children
to be considered separately from their parents. Although given equivalence scales
can incorporate unequal patterns of intrahousehold distribution (Cockburn et al.
2006; Lanjouw and Ravallion 1995), the usual assumption is that equivalence
scales reflect an equitable notion of the relative needs of individuals within the
household and equitable consumption of “public goods” within the household, for
example, the dwelling itself (Nelson 1993).
In consideration of the adequacy of resources to meet needs, two problems in
particular are apparent. First, actual equivalence scales used in analysis of house-
hold income are to a large extent arbitrary. Percival and Harding (2001) show that
across a number of recent Australian studies, the ratio of equivalence scales for
a couple with four dependent children to a couple with no children ranges from 1.25
to 1.57. Whiteford (1985), in an examination of 59 international studies, shows that
the ratio for the same two family types ranges from 1.11 to 1.93. Second, as Nelson
points out, “The bulk of current academic literature defines “household welfare” as
the material standard of living of the adults (or parents) in the household” (Nelson
1993, p. 471). Although the literature does include examples where equivalence
scales in relation to children are considered in depth (see, e.g., Lanjouw et al. 2004),
the problem remains that the final choice is somewhat arbitrary, and the sensitivity
of results needs to be tested against that final choice.
47.2.1.5 Poverty Lines

Income or consumption poverty lines represent the crucial point at which needs and
resources, and indeed resources and outcomes – at least in theory – should meet.
The poverty line represents the threshold below which a person or household is
assumed to be not meeting their needs, or alternatively, is assumed to be on track for
suboptimal outcomes. In studies of child poverty that focus on income and con-
sumption, poverty thresholds, however, appear to be somewhat removed from
a clear definition of children’s needs. In rich countries (except the USA), it is
common in studies of both adult and child poverty to take a relative approach and
define the poverty threshold in relation to median (adult equivalent) income. This is
similar to Townsend’s (1979) definition of relative poverty cited above and is in
effect an operationalization of a 1984 European Union decision regarding the
guiding principles for a definition of poverty:
The poor shall be taken to mean persons, families and groups of persons, where resources
(material, cultural and social) are so limited as to exclude them from the minimum accept-
able way of life in the Member States in which they live. (cited in Ramprakash 1994, p. 118)
1394 G. Redmond
Definitions of income poverty that are related to the mean or median have
a number of advantages. First, they are easily understood by non-policy experts.
Second, the same threshold can be applied in a meaningful way in a range of
different countries (e.g., across all European Union member states) in a way that
absolute poverty definitions cannot. Third, the threshold changes with average
incomes, so there is an inbuilt expectation that everyone will share in economic
growth (but also conversely that the impact of economic decline on the poorest
sections of the community can be effectively masked).
However, such definitions also have a number of disadvantages that are perhaps
especially relevant for children. Here I wish to dwell on one in particular. What is
the “minimum acceptable way of life” for a child, and how does it differ from that
of an adult, or indeed among children? This question is not adequately addressed
in the literature. The strong implication in the EU definition above is that the
minimum acceptable way of life may vary between member states, but not within
them – there is one standard, across city and countryside, across regions, and across
people. This is, moreover, an objective “minimum acceptable way of life” – it must
not be merely acceptable to the person concerned but to society as a whole. This
acceptable minimum has been defined as variously as 40 %, 50 % or 60 % of
median household income.
In practice, the application of absolute poverty lines to children is relatively
straightforward – children are counted as poor if they live in a household where
total resources fall short of the minimum absolute threshold for a household of that
particular type and size. With relative poverty lines, the question of “compared to
whom?” – a key question in the social exclusion literature (Atkinson 1998;
Micklewright 2002) – assumes greater importance. According to the EU definition
above, the comparator should be the average for the country in which the child
lives. Bradbury and Jantti (1999) use an alternative definition of “whom” – the child
median in the country where the child lives. Since this poverty line does not
produce significantly different results to those produced by the overall median,
they do not examine it further. However, it may be possible to examine the effect of
comparing children with just their age group, or with other children who have
similar characteristics. This type of comparison may yield a different picture of
relative child poverty to one derived from the overall poverty line.
The value of these relative lines and others (such as the US absolute poverty line
and the Henderson poverty line sometimes used in Australia) needs to be tested not
only against each other but also against a number of outcomes for children with
different characteristics. For this, we need a clearer picture of acceptable outcomes
for children across different countries and situations.
Once a poverty line is defined, choices need to be made regarding aggregation of
the poor into an index, which could be a headcount measure, or could alternatively
attempt to take account of the distribution of resources below the poverty
line (Alkire and Foster 2008; Foster et al. 1984). For each of these issues,
the literature is enormous. The issues discussed above have specific relevance for
the counting of poverty among children. For example, the choice of unit of analysis
(household, or family, or individual) may reflect the analyst’s observations on how
people appear to pool resources in a given community. The equivalence scale

represents the analyst’s view on how resources of income units of different size
and composition can be fairly compared in terms of the standard of living that they
achieve. The threshold below which people are deemed to be poor, and therefore
arguably different in some important respect from the nonpoor, is again a value
choice, even when based on an apparently scientifically derived minimum.
UNICEF (2005) uses the following definition of child poverty in a study of
relative child poverty in rich countries:
A child is to be considered poor if the income available to that child, assuming a fair
distribution of resources within the family and making allowances for family size and
composition, is less than half the median income available to a child growing up in that
society. (UNICEF 2005, p. 7)
The poverty line used in the UNICEF report (half median equivalized household
income) is now commonly used in studies of poverty in most rich countries, espe-
cially European Union countries. Household income is calculated as market or
private income, plus transfers, minus taxes paid on that income. Income is
equivalized using the “square root of household size” scale, which assumes that
a household with two people (adults or children) needs 1.41 times the income of
a single-person household to achieve the same standard of living, a household with
three people needs an income equal to 1.73 times the single-person household
income, and a household with four people needs twice the single-person household’s
income. The UNICEF analysis shows child poverty is lowest in the Nordic countries,
where rates vary between 2 % and 4 %, and highest in New Zealand, Italy, the USA,
and Mexico. The main conclusion of the report is that relative poverty is low in
countries such as Denmark and Sweden because public expenditure on transfers and
services in these countries is high, while public expenditure is low in countries such as
Italy and the US. The other main conclusion of the report is that those countries that
put in place policies to reduce child poverty during the decade of the 1990s tended to
achieve the best results in that respect.
47.2.2 Deprivation
The deprivation approach to poverty measurement attempts to look at how people

actually live, rather than their access to resources. McKay (2004), citing Ringen
(1988), places the study of deprivation somewhere more toward the direct end of
methods for measuring living standards, with income noted as being very indirect
and consumption a little less indirect. Measuring deprivation entails obtaining
information from an individual or household on what they actually consume,
what activities they participate in, and what durables and other goods they actually
own or use. In introducing his discussion of deprivation as a means for measuring
poverty, Townsend argues that national or social conceptions of poverty
(mostly income based) tend to be “inadequate and idiosyncratic or inconsistent”
(1979, p. 46). This section shows that while the concept of deprivation does
1396 G. Redmond
overcome some of the limitations associated with monetary resource based

measures of poverty and well-being, Orshansky’s (1969) pithy comment cited
above applies as much to deprivation as it does to poverty, albeit for different
reasons. The discussion that follows considers child deprivation, first in rich
countries and then in developing countries.
47.2.2.1 Child Deprivation in Rich Countries

Most studies of deprivation that focus on rich countries examine relative depriva-
tion: people not having things or being able to participate in activities to the extent
that they are “excluded from ordinary living patterns, customs and activities”
(Townsend 1979, p. 31). In his pioneering study, Townsend uses information
taken from households about their possessions, problems, and activities in order
to supplement the very detailed income data that he collects from the same
households. He asks respondents (usually the “head” or “wife”) whether they had
holidays away from home; meals out; friends visiting for meals; children’s friends
to the house to play; cooked breakfasts; fresh meat; given levels of clothing and
footwear per household member; ability to pay bills; birthday parties for children;
possession of a number of durables such as a fridge, vacuum cleaner, or television;
and amenities such as sole use of bathroom and hot water. From these he derives
a list of 60 deprivation indictors (1979, Appendix 13). These are clear examples of
the “direct measures” referred to by Ringen (1988) and McKay (2004). From this
list of 60 indicators, Townsend chooses 12 indicators, reproduced in Table 47.1,
that he argues are relevant to the whole population. These indicators include some
that a majority of the population appears not to have, notably a cooked breakfast
most days of the week, which only a third of the population consumed.
Townsend’s index, whose main purpose is to calibrate rather than replace his
income poverty measures (Haller€ od 2006), is constructed simply as the sum of all
deprivations a household experiences, with a score of 1 given for each deprivation.
Therefore, a household that experienced all 12 deprivations would be given a score
of 12, while a household that did not experience any would have a score of zero. As
Townsend (1979) and others (see, e.g., Ringen 1988) argue, direct deprivation
measures overcome a number of problems associated with cash income or con-
sumption based measures of poverty: we can observe directly what households are
consuming, overcoming worries about income that is not (and perhaps cannot) be
spent, or expenditure that for some households does not appear to go as far as one
might assume. Problems of equivalization and sharing of resources across house-
hold members are also to some extent solved by direct measures, although this does
depend on whom in the household is asked questions such as those posed by
Townsend in Table 47.1. above. (Townsend himself appears to ask some questions
of all adults (aged 15 and over) in the household, and others of just the informant
or housewife. Everyone is asked the question about eating a cooked breakfast
(which incidentally is meant to mean bacon and egg, but not porridge or toast).
On the other hand, he only asks the housewife (times were different back then)
about buying second-hand clothing (Townsend 1979, Appendix 10)). In addition,
Table 47.1 Peter Townsend’s deprivation index

Correlation with net
Percent of disposable household
Indicator population income last year (Pearson)
Has not had a week’s holiday away from home in the 53.6 0.1892
last 12 months
Has not had a relative or friend home for a meal or 33.4 0.0493
snack in the past 4 weeks (adults only)
Has not been out in the last 4 weeks with a relative or 45.1 0.0515
friend for a meal or snack (adults only)
Has not had a friend to play or to tea in the last 4 weeks 36.3 0.0643
(children only)
Did not have a party last birthday (children only) 56.6 0.0660
Has not had an afternoon or evening out for 47.0 0.1088
entertainment in the last 2 weeks
Does not have fresh meat (including meals out) as 19.3 0.1821
many as 4 days a week
Has gone through one or more days in the past 7.0 0.0684
fortnight without a cooked meal
Has not had a cooked breakfast for most days of the 67.3 0.0559
week
Household does not have a refrigerator 45.1 0.2419
Household does not usually have a Sunday joint (three 25.9 0.1734
in four times)
Household does not have sole use of four amenities 21.4 0.1671
indoors (flush WC; sink or washbasin and cold water
tap; fixed bath or shower; gas or electric cooker)
Source: Townsend (1979, Table 6.3)
deprivation indexes can focus specifically on children, and on possession of goods,

access to services, or participation in activities that are directly relevant to children.
Most studies of deprivation however focus on household deprivation, where a
responsible adult is asked about access to goods and services. In recent years of
the UK Family Resources Survey (a large annual survey of household income and
access to services), a large number of child-focused questions on deprivation have
been asked of parents, including:
• Does your child have/do your children have a family holiday away from home
for at least 1 week a year?
• Are there enough bedrooms for every child of ten or over of a different sex to
have their own?
• Does your child have/do your children have leisure equipment such as sports
equipment or a bicycle?
• Does your child/do your children have celebrations on special occasions such as
birthdays, Christmas, or other religious festivals?
Parents are also asked about whether their children go swimming, whether
they have a hobby, and whether they have friends to visit. Parents of children
1398 G. Redmond
aged under 6 years are asked about their child’s participation in a toddler group,
nursery school, or preschool, and parents of children aged over 6 are asked about
their child’s participation in school trips. In her analysis of severe child deprivation
in the UK using FRS data, Magadi (2009) shows that about 4 % of children in the
UK are in what she calls “severe poverty,” a combination of very low income and
deprivation on a number of items. Among this group, nine in ten do not go on
holidays, about half do not go swimming or have a hobby, and four in ten do not go
on school trips. Magadi’s analysis therefore suggests that analysis of a combination
of income poverty and deprivation can do much to reveal severe deprivation among
children in low-income households.
Information on parents’ views of necessities for their children is somewhat
more extensive in the UK 2009 Omnibus Survey, where information is also
elicited on availability of fresh fruit and vegetables, and school uniforms.
Hirsch and Smith (2010) note that what parents deem a necessity for children
evolves considerably from year to year, so that in recent years, access to
a computer with internet and a mobile phone are increasingly being seen as
necessities. Bradshaw and Main (2010) propose a list of 39 items to be asked of
parents with respect to child deprivation in the 2011 Survey of Poverty and
Exclusion in the UK. This list includes questions asked of parents in the FRS
and Omnibus Survey, and also questions on access to a GP or dentist, having
brand name trainers, a computer, mobile phone and satellite TV, and clothes
that children consider allow them to fit in with their peers. Bradshaw and Main
discuss at some length how questions about children’s deprivation can be
interpreted in the context of adapted preferences, for example, to what extent
can parents state with certainty that their children do not want an item that they
do not have?
The 2008 Understanding Children’s Well-being survey, also carried out in the UK,
is one of very few surveys that ask children aged 10–15 directly about the deprivation
that they experience. Also sampled were a subset of 300 parents who were asked the
same questions as the children about deprivation. In general, differences in responses
by parents and children were significant but small, even in the case of quite abstract
questions, for example, about self-rated wealth. Bradshaw and Main conclude:
Children’s subjective perceptions of familial wealth were closely linked to possession of

deprivation items, suggesting that such items are a promising way of measuring subjective
poverty amongst children. Since children’s reporting of objective facets of poverty was also
similar to that of adults, and deprivation items correlated with annual income, the depri-
vation scale also appears to be an adequate proxy (amongst other forms of measurement) of
objective deprivation. (Bradshaw and Main 2010, pp. 39–40)
Bradshaw and Main also show however that parents and children do often appear
to have differing views on what they want that they do not have, with parents more
likely to state that their children do not want the items in question. This leaves open
the issue of whether differences in parent and child responses are related to
children’s desire to protect their parents from their experience of poverty
(Bradshaw and Main 2010; Ridge 2002).
47.2.2.2 Child Deprivation in Developing Countries

Studies of child deprivation in developing countries have evolved in a different
direction to studies in rich countries, for a number of reasons. First, in a few
developing countries, money is not universally used as a means of exchange.
Second, many developing countries, including those where money is mostly used
as a means of exchange, have large informal sectors, a typical example being
subsistence farming, where a household grows crops primarily in order to feed
itself. Production for home consumption can be difficult to value in money terms at
market prices (although this is often done), and it is possible as an alternative to
estimate the caloric value of food consumed by the household (even though this is
also difficult to estimate accurately). Third, policy concern in developing countries
has tended to be less with relative deprivation (this might be an appropriate
descriptor, for example, of the deprivation indicator cited above “Does your child
have/do your children have a family holiday way from home for at least 1 week
a year?”) but with access to “basic” goods and services – enough food and nutrition,
water that is safe to drink, adequate sewage and sanitation, access to health care
and school, and so on. Note that there is also quite a literature on “basic”
deprivations in rich countries. One example (Munoz et al. 1997) compares food
intakes of US children with recommended diets and finds that the prevalent food
intake pattern of children and teenagers does not meet national nutritional
recommendations.
In general, however, large-scale studies of deprivation in rich countries tend to
take a more relative perspective, while studies in developing countries take a more
absolute or “basic needs” perspective (see, e.g., Cornia et al. 1988). Caloric intake
is perhaps the most regularly used but also frequently used are indicators of literacy
and (at an aggregate level) life expectancy (Ram 1992). Gordon et al. (2003)
develop a set of basic needs indicators for children including stunting (low height
for age), wasting (low weight for height), attendance at school, and access to health
care services. Their indicators are derived from the definition of absolute poverty
agreed by governments of over 100 countries at the 1995 UN Summit for Interna-
tional Development in Copenhagen:
Absolute poverty is a condition characterized by severe deprivation of basic human needs,

including food, safe drinking water, sanitation facilities, health, shelter, education and
information. It depends not only on income but also on access to social services. (United
Nations 1995, p. 41)
This definition contains the features inherent in the basic needs approach, for
example, the focus on commodities. However, it is also quite an advanced defini-
tion in that it includes deprivation of information as one of the characteristics of
poverty and explicitly states that income alone is unlikely to lift people out of
poverty – access to social services is also necessary. Therefore, this definition is
clearly placing an onus on governments to act. This has been followed through in
living standards surveys carried out in many developing countries, which ask
respondents about children’s schooling, and accessibility of safe water and medical
services (e.g., see World Bank sponsored Living Standards Measurement Surveys).
1400 G. Redmond
Table 47.2 Indicators of absolute child poverty in developing countries (Gordon et al. 2003)
Severe food deprivation: children whose heights and weights for their age were more than 3
standard deviations below the median of the international reference population, that is, severe
anthropometric failure
Severe water deprivation: children who only had access to surface water (e.g., rivers) for drinking
or who lived in households where the nearest source of water was more than 15 min away
(indicators of severe deprivation of water quality or quantity)
Severe deprivation of sanitation facilities: children who had no access to a toilet of any kind in the
vicinity of their dwelling, that is, no private or communal toilets or latrines
Severe health deprivation: children who had not been immunized against any diseases or young
children who had a recent illness involving diarrhea and had not received any medical advice or
treatment
Severe shelter deprivation: children in dwellings with more than five people per room (severe
overcrowding) or with no flooring material (e.g., a mud floor)
Severe educational deprivation: children aged between 7 and 18 who had never been to school and
were not currently attending school (no professional education of any kind)
Severe information deprivation: children aged between 3 and 18 with no access to radio,
television, telephone, or newspapers at home
Severe deprivation of access to basic services: children living 20 km or more from any type of
school or 50 km or more from any medical facility with doctors. Unfortunately, this kind of
information was only available for a few countries, so it has not been possible to construct accurate
regional estimates of severe deprivation of access to basic services
Gordon et al. (2003) use the UN Copenhagen Declaration definition of absolute

poverty to operationalize their study of poverty among children in developing
countries. Their development of indicators is shown on Table 47.1 and illustrates
some of the challenges of developing a needs-based approach in practice. They use
Demographic and Health Surveys for about 60 developing countries to develop
a continuum of deprivation for all of the indicators on Table 47.2, ranging from “no
deprivation” to “severe deprivation,” and therefore allow for alternative definitions
of needs levels in their analysis. They also attempt to develop measures for
individual children and indeed reject the validity of household income as
a measure of child well-being because it does not focus on the individual child.
The indicators of food, health, and education deprivation are clearly individual. All
other indicators, however, are closely related to household status, in part reflecting
the nature of the deprivation (all household members are arguably deprived if the
home does not have access to water or sanitation), but also the difficulty in
understanding how these deprivations are distributed within the household. For
example, a household member who never has to fetch water and who washes and
drinks as much as s/he likes is presumably less affected by water deprivation than
a household member who hauls water daily. As with food and education, the need
for water (and several other requirements) is individual. However, it is sometimes
difficult to directly measure fulfillment of such needs on an individual basis.
47.2.2.3 Value Choices

The child deprivation indexes discussed above are potentially confusing in two
particular respects. First, the actual choice of indicators can be random. To some
extent, all social science research in the positivist tradition is burdened with the
choices and biases of the researcher in terms of what the population of interest is,
how the sample is chosen, and what the sample is asked. While this is true with
research regarding “indirect measures” such as aggregate income and consumption,
the problems associated with deciding what to ask are perhaps greater with “direct
measures,” since these by definition try to capture more precisely a household’s
actual consumption patterns and activities. In their studies, Mack and Lansley
(1985), Nolan and Whelan (1996), and Saunders and Adelman (2006) attempt to
overcome the problem of choice of direct indicators by using data which ask
respondents for each item and activity: (1) whether they have it; (2) whether they
do not have it but do not want it, or whether they think it is a “necessity” which people
should not have to do without; and (3) whether they do not have it because they cannot
not afford it. In other words, respondents are able to get over the “cooked breakfast”
problem in Townsend’s survey by indicating whether they have any interest in eating
a cooked breakfast, regardless of whether they can afford it or not. However,
respondents in these surveys are still asked about items from limited lists (typically
40–100 items) and have no direct input into the construction of these lists.
Alkire and Roche (2011) summarize five methods commonly used by analysts
for determining dimensions of material deprivation:
– Deliberative participatory exercises to obtain the values and perspectives of target
populations (Biggeri et al. 2006; Hirsch and Smith 2010; Saunders et al. 2007)
– Using a list with legitimacy conferred by public consensus, for example, the
Millennium Development Goals, or a list based on the Convention on the Rights
of the Child (Gordon et al. 2003)
– Making implicit or explicit assumptions about what people should value, for
example, adapting lists proposed by Doyal and Gough (1991), or Nussbaum (2003)
– Convenience or convention, for example, variables available in a recent survey
(Menchini and Redmond 2009)
– Empirical evidence regarding core dimensions that are vital for child development
More fundamentally, as Hallerod (2006) argues, it is difficult to interpret
responses to the question of whether somebody cannot afford a particular item, or
whether they think it is a necessity, because of the problem of “adaptive preference”
(a problem that is exacerbated where parents are asked to answer on children’s
behalf – see Bradshaw and Main 2010). People will evaluate whether a particular
item is a necessity based on their reference group, rather than according to more
“objective” criteria. In an analysis of UK data, McKay concludes that “there is only
weak evidence that there is a consensus on which goods and services people should
have” (2004, p. 220). Hallerod (2006) argues that all “objective relative depriva-
tion” studies that use these necessity/want/affordability criteria are in fact strongly
subjective because of the “adaptive preference” problem.
The choice of indicators is an important issue for child poverty that researchers
have only recently begun to grapple with, even though many studies include
specifically child-related indicators, such as having a party last birthday, or having
friends to the house to play (Nolan and Whelan 1996; Townsend 1979). There is
room for more serious consideration of what are the most appropriate indicators of
1402 G. Redmond
children’s deprivation that qualitative research on children and poverty can perhaps
go some way towards addressing (Ridge 2002; Roker 1998). Also important in
considering the meaning of relative deprivation and children is the question of
children as agents and dependants, and the choices they have within the household.
Their (presumed) lack of agency in actual consumption decisions does not preclude
reflection on the choices made for them and feelings of deprivation that may ensue.
47.2.2.4 Multidimensional Measures of Deprivation

By nature, deprivation measures are multidimensional and can be aggregated in
a number of ways. Townsend (1979) and Gordon et al. (2003) simply add up the
number of deprivations that each household (or child) experiences. They implicitly
give each item on the list a weight of 1.0, but there is in fact no a priori reason why
all items should be weighted equally. Deprivation analysts have developed
a number of approaches to the problem of weighting different items on
a deprivation list. For example, Hallerod (2006) weights each item according to
the proportion of the sample that possesses it. Applying this technique to
Townsend’s 12 items on Table 47.1 would entail giving the “cooked breakfast”
indicator a relatively low weight of 0.327 (1–67.3/100), while the indicator “Has
gone through one or more days in the past fortnight without a cooked meal” would
have a relatively higher weight of 0.93 (1–7.0/100).
This, however, is only a partial solution, since universal possession of an item is
not the only possible criterion for determining its importance, and the type of
additivity built into this approach may be problematic (McKay 2004). Again
using Table 47.1 as an example, Hallerod’s approach means that a person who
“Has not had a week’s holiday away from home in the last 12 months” and who
“Did not have a party last birthday (children only)” (weighted score ¼ 0.898) is
worse off than a person living in a “Household [which] does not have sole use of
four amenities indoors (flush WC, sink or washbasin and cold water tap, fixed bath
or shower, gas or electric cooker)” (weighted score ¼ 0.786) but who did have
a holiday and a child’s birthday party. Such valuations may sometimes be difficult
to justify. On the other hand, the weighting is explicit, and its robustness can be
tested by introducing a set of alternative weights.
Robeyns states that many economists consider explicit weighting of elements in
a multidimensional index to be “an entirely arbitrary procedure and disapprove of
the explicit value judgments involved” (2006, p. 357), and prefer to derive weights
in a more statistical way, even though she argues that there has been little discussion
to date of the plausibility of assumptions underlying these statistical methods.
However, statistical methods have helped in two areas. First, they have introduced
the concept of “dominance” (Atkinson 2003), where the approach is analogous to
that taken with Lorenz curves in estimating which of two distributions is more
unequal: in cases where the curves cross, it cannot be unequivocally stated that one
distribution is more unequal than the other. With multidimensional deprivation
measures, a number of axioms can be derived to determine at least an ordinal
multidimensional deprivation ranking, and its robustness to changes in deprivation
thresholds and other parameters (Bourguignon and Chakravarty 2002). Second, the
technique of factor analysis (as used in Nolan and Whelan 1996) has allowed for
a more rigorous grouping of large numbers of indicators into “dimensions” that can
reveal some underlying factors associated with deprivation.
Alkire and Foster (2011a) propose a method for measuring multidimensional
poverty that attempts to draw on the axiomatic approach, so that any improvement in
a poor person’s living standard counts toward a reduction in poverty, that any improve-
ment in a very poor person’s living standard is given greater weight than a transfer to
a person just under the poverty line, and that any transfer between two persons below
the poverty line counts as a reduction in poverty if the recipient of the transfer has
a lower income than the donor (provided the latter still has a higher living standard after
the transfer) and as an increase in poverty if the recipient has a higher income than the
donor. These axioms are satisfied by deriving two cutoffs for the determination of who
is poor – one for each dimension of poverty that is measured, one overall cutoff to
identify the poor population. Weights are applied to each dimension (depending on the
analyst’s valuation of each dimension’s relative importance), allowing ordinal and in
some cases cardinal measurement of multidimensional poverty, what Alkire and Foster
call the “adjusted headcount ratio.” An analysis using this method to measure poverty
in Bangladesh by Alkire and Roche (2011) shows that the adjusted headcount ratio
produces a different picture of child poverty than can be seen from a traditional
headcount measure, highlighting in particular what they call “the intensity of depriva-
tions that batter poor children’s lives at the same time” (2011, p. 18).
47.3 Poverty and Human Development
While human development, which can broadly be described as a global approach to

improving living standards and human well-being, has traditionally been seen as
fulfillment of basic needs (as discussed in Sect. 47.2.2 above), the debate has now
shifted decisively toward the concept of capabilities, championed by Amartya Sen
(1999). Most of this section is devoted to describing the capabilities approach and
discusses its relevance for the study of child poverty. More recently, human rights have
also been placed at the heart of the human development debate, and a considerable
literature has also grown around its relationship to capabilities. This section discusses
how the capabilities approach broadens issues of concern for poverty analysts.
47.3.1 The Capabilities Approach
Amartya Sen (1983, 1987, 1992, 1999) has been one of the prime movers in
broadening the poverty debate away from economic welfare and toward what he
terms capabilities:
If our attention is shifted from an exclusive concentration on income poverty to the more
inclusive idea of capability deprivation, we can better understand the poverty of human lives
and freedoms in terms of a different informational base (involving the statistics of a kind that
the income perspective tends to crowd out as a reference point for policy analysis). The role
1404 G. Redmond
of income and wealth – important as it is along with other influences – has to be integrated
into a broader and fuller picture of success and deprivation. (Amartya Sen 1999, p. 20)
Whereas economic welfare is about a stock or flow of (generally) countable

resources or commodities, capabilities are about how we can make use of pos-
sessions and other things in order to lead a life which we have reason to value.
Material welfare is instrumentally important, but capabilities are intrinsically
important. Moreover, factors other than economic resources can influence these
intrinsically important outcomes. Because people have different skills, character-
istics, and attributes, and live in different situations, they may need different
levels and types of resources (both economic and other) to achieve a given level of
capability.
Capabilities are best described as the freedom a person has to choose from a set
of different possible and desirable courses of action – “the alternative combina-
tions of functionings that are feasible for her to achieve.” (Amartya Sen 1999,
p. 75) Functioning describes the actual choice – the observed outcome within
a capability set. While the term deprivation can be used to describe a suboptimal
outcome in any capability set, poverty arguably describes a subset of such
suboptimal outcomes in a capabilities space that the analyst must explicitly
define. Sen himself does not attempt to define which capability sets should be
included in the poverty definition (Robeyns 2006 describes the approach as
“underspecified”), although in his writings on capabilities and poverty, he does
repeatedly return to those elements that UNDP (2000) includes in its definition of
human poverty – “the ability to be well-nourished and well-sheltered, the capa-
bility of escaping avoidable mortality and premature morbidity, and so forth”
(Amartya Sen 1992, p. 45).
Unlike approaches to poverty analysis that focus exclusively on material
well-being (where the analyst needs to inject exogenous values in order to develop
a definition of poverty), the capability approach is inherently value laden and gives
some clear directions as to what an “adequate standard of living” might be. First, it
includes an absolute minimum base. Children who die or who are malnourished or
who cannot read or write are capability deprived. Second, it suggests a normative
orientation toward outcomes:
The capabilities of relevance are not only those that relate to avoiding premature mortality,
being in good health, being schooled and educated, and other such basic concerns, but also
various social achievements, including – as Adam Smith (1776) emphasized – being able to
appear in public without shame and being able to take part in the life of the community.
(Amartya Sen 2006, p. 35)
Capabilities, therefore, are not only about minimum functionings but about
freedom for a person to live the life that she values. While the role of material
resources is recognized as important in helping people realise their capabilities,
the capabilities approach explicitly recognizes that they are one among several
types of input, and the efficacy with which a person can translate these resources
into capabilities (the conversion factor) is dependent on his own inherent talents and
limitations and the environment in which he lives. Therefore, if adequacy
(or “non-poverty”) is conceptualized as a situation where a person can lead a life

they have reason to value, then the size and type of material inputs to this living
standard are dependent on several factors and can vary from person to person.
47.3.1.1 Application of the Capabilities Approach

Operationalization of the capabilities approach has been fraught with difficulty, in
part because of the “underspecified” nature of the concept and in part because of the
lack of suitable data at the level of the individual that can identify the sorts of choices
that people are able to make (Robeyns 2006). Most research that applies the capability
approach therefore focuses on functionings, with the assumption that the functioning
represents the rationally best choice available to the individual and that those who do
not take this rational choice (such as the rich man who chooses to fast) are outliers.
This brings much empirical work which places itself in the capabilities tradition into
the orbit of “deprivation” or “social exclusion.” Indeed, Ruggeri Laderchi et al. (2003)
make the point that practical applications of the capabilities approach tend to
identify the same needs as those used in basic needs approaches (which Sen charac-
terizes as a “commodity fetish”) – for example, nutrition, education, and health care.
Robeyns argues however that the capabilities approach “offers the underpin-
nings of multidimensional empirical analysis, and stresses to a far greater extent
[than other poverty analysis approaches] the need to integrate theory and practice,
and to pay due attention to the philosophical foundations.” (2006, p. 371) This is
seen in many empirical analyses in the capabilities tradition that use well-being
indicators that are widely analyzed within the poverty and deprivation traditions
(see, e.g., Di Tomasso 2006; Haveman and Bershadker 2001; Klasen 2000). These
underpinnings can be important in terms of the conclusions drawn from such
research. Klasen, for example, uses the capabilities approach in his study of income
poverty and deprivation in South Africa to justify a focus on outcomes experienced
by the population – a term that is rarely used in deprivation type analysis.
The difference here is perhaps that with deprivation analysis, the concern for using
nonmonetary indicators is because they may better capture the state of “poverty,” but
of themselves they are often not of great significance – Townsend’s indicators on
Table 47.1 above of not eating fresh meat several times a week, or a child not having
a birthday party, are examples in this respect. While the material poverty analyst may
interpret deprivation in these indicators only in the context of a number of other
indicators that together suggest “poverty” or “deprivation,” the capabilities analyst
will be more interested in what the indicators mean in terms of final outcomes – poor
nutrition leading to poor health, for example, or “shame” a term much utilized by
Sen, often in the context of the above reference to Adam Smith.
The focus on philosophical underpinnings presents some challenges for empir-
ical work on children and capabilities that is meaningfully different from work in
other traditions. One application would be to draw a clear distinction between
“resources” (including commodities) and outcomes and to systematically work
through the meaning of common indicators such as school attendance as
a resource or instrument (for human capital development, for social inclusion), or
as an activity or status which in itself is of intrinsic value (i.e., on a par with good
1406 G. Redmond
health, happiness, knowledge, inclusion). Phipps (2002) takes something close to

this approach in focusing on health and psychological well-being outcomes for
children in the USA, Norway, and Canada. The indicators she uses may have
a number of implications, but each is also arguably of concern in itself. Di Tomasso
(2006) attempts to relate four basic needs-type indicators in her study of children’s
well-being in India (stunting, wasting, enrolment in school, and work status) closely
to Nussbaum’s (2003) list of basic capabilities (including bodily health, bodily
integrity, emotions, senses, imagination, and thought).
Another area in which there may be scope for a capabilities approach that is
clearly differentiated from other approaches is in the development of conversion
factors – the “market price” for an individual, given their characteristics, talents,
and environmental and other constraints, to achieve a minimally acceptable level
of capability. These appear to have generally been ignored by analysts who seek
to apply the capabilities approach (Burchardt and Zaidi 2005; Kuklys and
Robeyns 2005). Governments however implicitly accept that some people may
need more help than others in order to get by (this is one rationale for higher cash
transfers for people with disabilities and also, in some countries, higher payments
for single parents). It may be possible using household survey datasets to develop
a picture of conversion factors for particular groups of children based on what
they are observed to achieve in terms of outcomes or functionings with different
levels of resources.
47.3.1.2 Poverty and Mortality

Indicators of life expectancy and mortality are sometimes included alongside other
indicators of absolute deprivation, particularly in the context of developing countries,
but also at least occasionally in rich countries (OECD 2009). The UNDP Human
Development Index includes life expectancy as one of its main indicators for ranking
countries, alongside GDP and literacy (e.g., see United Nations Development
Programme UNDP 2000). Sen (1998)has promoted mortality as an indicator of economic
success and failure and argues that information on mortality, first, is of intrinsic impor-
tance; second, of enabling significance (being alive is necessary if we are to lead lives we
have reason to value); and third, of associative relevance, since many other important
indicators are correlated either positively or negatively with mortality. In particular,
a large literature has developed linking both life expectancy and infant mortality to
socioeconomic conditions (Franz and FitzRoy 2006; see, e.g., Krueger et al. 2003).
Mortality in the household context should be seen as a powerful indicator of
deprivation (or capability deprivation). Households that experience the death of
a child, or the premature death of an adult, are deprived, even though according
to conventional measures, that death may result in per capita income in the
household increasing and the household’s outlays on healthcare decreasing.
In addition, infant mortality is often used as a key indicator of child well-being
at the national level (UNICEF 2006) and at the regional level within countries.
The case for including analysis of mortality among children and their parents in
studies of child poverty is strong. However, the means for doing this need further
development.
47.3.2 Poverty and Human Rights
While the term is now universally used, there is little agreement among lawyers and
philosophers on what human rights actually are. The closest we arguably have to
agreement is what is in the UN-sponsored conventions that have been ratified by the
vast majority of nations – the Universal Declaration of Human Rights; the Interna-
tional Covenant on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights; the International Cove-
nant on Civil and Political Rights; the Convention on the Elimination of All Forms
of Discrimination Against Women; the Convention Against Torture and Other
Cruel, Inhuman or Degrading Treatment or Punishment; the Convention on the
Rights of Persons with Disabilities; and the Convention on the Rights of the Child.
As Beitz (2001) points out, these treaties do not lay out any foundational principles
but simply declare certain matters to be rights. These human rights treaties
represent a coherent and progressive body of law – coherent in the sense that all
treaties subsequent to the Universal Declaration seek to give prominence and
detail to elements that are already implicit in the Universal Declaration. There
are no cases where a later treaty actually rescinds any provision in an earlier
treaty. The treaties are also progressive in that each treaty seeks to strengthen
individuals’ rights.
The treaties are somewhat ambiguous on the issue of poverty. The word “pov-
erty” is not actually mentioned in any treaty, and the right to freedom from poverty
is not clearly stated anywhere (Alston 2005). Nonetheless, poverty is one of the
dominant issues in contemporary human rights debates, as is shown by the linking
of Millennium Development Goals to human rights fulfillment. This is sometimes
argued from the perspective of the right to survival, or to access to education, health
care, and other basic social services. It is also sometimes argued in the context of
adequacy of living standards. Article 27 of the Convention on the Rights of the
Child states in full:
1. States Parties recognize the right of every child to a standard of living adequate
for the child’s physical, mental, spiritual, moral and social development.
2. The parent(s) or others responsible for the child have the primary responsibility
to secure, within their abilities and financial capacities, the conditions of living
necessary for the child’s development.
3. States Parties, in accordance with national conditions and within their means, shall
take appropriate measures to assist parents and others responsible for the child to
implement this right and shall in case of need provide material assistance and
support programmes, particularly with regard to nutrition, clothing and housing.
4. States Parties shall take all appropriate measures to secure the recovery of
maintenance for the child from the parents or other persons having financial
responsibility for the child, both within the State Party and from abroad.
In particular, where the person having financial responsibility for the child
lives in a State different from that of the child, States Parties shall promote the
accession to international agreements or the conclusion of such agreements, as
well as the making of other appropriate arrangements (Article 27, Convention on
the Rights of the Child, 1989).
1408 G. Redmond
Here I focus mostly on Article 27.1, although it is important to interpret this

section in the context of the whole article and indeed the whole convention. If
freedom from poverty is to have a concrete meaning in terms of human rights, it
has to be in the context of adequate living standards. Craven (1995, p. 293), writing
on the International Covenant on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights, notes that the
lack of clarity in the term “adequate standard of living” has resulted in a right “which
appears to have little independent substance.” This is undoubtedly the case. It is other
rights (to life, survival, health education, etc.) that appear to ultimately point toward
what an adequate standard of living might entail. On the other hand, Bowers Andrews
(1999, p. 7) states that “Article 27 focuses the need to move beyond traditional
emphasis on physical development to regard the child as fully human, with complex
needs, characteristics, and abilities that must be nurtured from birth onwards.”
Moreover, implicitly taking up Craven’s (1995) point, she points to an important
difference between the terminology used in Article 27 of the Convention on the
Rights of the Child, and that used in Articles 24 (on health) and 29 (on education):
The terms “adequate” and “necessary” used in Article 27 imply the child’s right is to minimal,
not optimal, living conditions that support holistic development. Article 29 contains bolder
language, stating that the child’s education shall be directed to the development of the
child’s personality, talents and mental and physical abilities to their fullest potential (empha-
sis added in the original). Likewise, Article 24 recognizes the right to the highest attainable
standard of health. As a practical matter, establishing standards for what constitutes adequate
living conditions will be determined by various states, communities and cultures. Notions of
adequacy, need, and child development vary across nations and habitats and within societal
groups. In effect, the UN has issued a challenge to nations through Article 27 that requires
them to discover what conditions are adequate and necessary for their children’s development
and to secure, to the extent possible, those conditions for each child. The process requires
scientific research, political discourse, and value-based decisions about child development.
(Bowers Andrews 1999, pp. 7–8)
Hodgkin and Newell (2007, p. 393) offer a somewhat similar interpretation,

arguing that the child’s right to development “must be to ‘the maximum extent’
(article 6) or to the child’s ‘fullest potential’ (article 29).” I interpret the challenge
set out by Bowers Andrews as follows: while “adequate” perhaps suggests some-
thing other than “opulent” and more like “basic minimum” or “poverty line,” the
kind of development to be achieved with this standard of living is clearly not basic
(Hodgkin and Newell 2007, pp. 393–4); moreover, it cannot in any meaningful
sense be an absolute standard but is relative to those in the society where the child
lives, or to those in other societies that the society in question desires to emulate,
and it is the responsibility of society to ensure that no child falls far below this
prevailing or aspirational standard of living.
There are a number of resources that can feed into achievement of this goal,
among which family and parental resources are one element, as Article 27.2 states.
Another important element is the resources of the state that are either directly
invested in the child or invested through the parents – this is the focus of Article
27.3. The right, moreover, while it refers to a minimum level of inputs, can only be
judged in terms of its adequacy according to the outcomes it achieves. We can only
therefore truly know if a child’s standard of living has been adequate through their
childhood if they have actually achieved optimal outcomes. This presents

a challenge for the capabilities approach, which cannot easily accommodate tem-
poral and dynamic aspects of well-being, although recent theory does attempt to
grapple with this issue (see Biggeri et al. 2011).
Detrick (1999, pp. 458–9) however appears to suggest what might be described
as a weak absolutist core to this right. In her analysis of the travaux préparatoires
for the Convention on the Rights of the Child, she notes that the US delegation
suggested replacing the original proposed wording for Article 27.1 – “States Parties
recognize the right of every child to a standard of living adequate to guarantee the
child’s physical, mental, spiritual, moral and social development.” – with the some-
what weaker statement – “States Parties recognize the right of every child to
a standard of living adequate for the child’s physical, mental, spiritual, moral and
social development.” (emphasis added for clarity). This proposal was accepted, but
a further US proposal to add the phrase “in accordance with national conditions” was
rejected, as several delegations felt that it would weaken the basic principle contained
in the article; the phrase was instead added to Article 27.3 (Detrick 1999, p. 457).
Delegates to the Convention therefore appeared to agree that the word “guarantee”
was too strong for connecting children’s living standards with their development.
I interpret rejection of the word “guarantee” to mean that states are not obliged to
ensure that all children develop in the ways stated – only that they have the policies in
place and that they in conjunction with parents have resources in place to ensure that
underdevelopment is not a commonplace and predictable occurrence. This is consis-
tent with Pogge’s (2008) notion of “secure access” to human rights. On the other
hand, delegates were unwilling to agree that adequacy in living standards should be
determined or judged solely in the context of national conditions where the child
lived. This suggests to me not only that the international community is obliged to
support the living standards of children in states where resources are inadequate in
absolute terms (this is stated in Article 4 of the Convention) but also that all states are
obliged to carefully consider how they interpret “adequacy” and how they may be
able to learn from other jurisdictions in this context.
47.4 Poverty as a Social Relation
The idea of poverty, not as an income status, but more as a position in a social
hierarchy, is a powerful one that perhaps comes out more strongly in literature and in
the popular imagination than in academic research. (As was noted in Sect. 47.2
above, the most common “popular” definition of poverty is probably having little or
no money, but the image that goes with this definition is not that of the hard-up
student but more of the person who has had it hard for a long time, who will probably
have it hard well into the future, and who lives a different life from those who are not
poor.) Lister (2004) proposes two alternative ideas of “the poor” in popular imagi-
nation. The image frequently portrayed in literature (e.g., that of Charles Dickens) is
one where rich and poor live in completely different communities and where contact
between these societies is generally problematic and only encouraged under carefully
1410 G. Redmond
prescribed circumstances. “The poor” are characterized as having their own norms,
habits, and customs and that these may pose a threat to “mainstream” society. Lister’s
alternative idea of the poor, as good people just like us, only with fewer resources,
appears to deny the “two separate communities” thesis; but it often propagates
another image, of poor people as passive and helpless. In both cases, poor people
are “othered” to use Lister’s (2004) term – people who are nonpoor objectify those
who are poor. Underlying both images is the idea of poverty not as a state of low
income or other resources but as a set of economic and social characteristics that are
attached to people for the long term, and perhaps for their whole lives.
Analysis used to describe poverty as a social relation (between the poor and
the rest of society) often assumes one of the above ideas. Here, two such ideas are
examined – underclass in Sect. 47.4.1 and social exclusion in Sect. 47.4.2. The
role of children in these schemas is interesting in that by convention, they
are never agents and therefore cannot be blamed for their circumstances and for
the most part cannot in themselves be characterized as “dangerous,” only as
victims (although it is worth noting that in most countries, the age of criminal
responsibility is often one of the first age thresholds that children reach on their
way to adulthood – long before they acquire other rights and responsibilities
associated with adulthood). Section 47.4.3 deals with the opposite of poor people
as objects: participative approaches among poor people for defining poverty and
proposing solutions to it.
47.4.1 Underclass
The term “underclass” appears to have been coined by journalists in the USA in
the 1970s and 1980s to describe a group of people who were stuck at the bottom
of society, living in clearly demarcated ghettoes, dependant on welfare, and with
values and behavior that differentiated them from the rest of society (Jencks
1992; Lister 2004). The idea of underclass however has a longer pedigree.
Alcock (1997, p. 29), for example, shows that Charles Booth in his pioneering
analysis of poverty in London “distinguished a group among the ranks of the poor
whom he regarded as a ‘residuum’ of criminal or feckless characters who were
a blight on the rest of the poor and lower classes.” Alcock makes the point that
this “residuum” generated a great deal of fear among the more “respectable”
classes because it was felt that the former did not share the values and norms of
the latter. Indeed, the idea of an “underclass” takes to extremes the notion
proposed by Lister (2004) of poverty as a social relationship between those
who are not poor and those who are poor, where the poor lead totally separate
lives to the nonpoor.
More recently some researchers have attempted to identify the characteristics of
the modern underclass. Murray (1984, 1990) focuses on welfare dependency,
illegitimacy and single parenthood, criminality, and disengagement from the
labor market. He strongly argues, moreover, that the underclass is responsible for
its own situation. Mincy et al. (1990) propose three major classes of measures to
identify the underclass. The first concerns persistence – those with chronically
low incomes, across a lifetime or even across generations. The second concerns
behavior or attitudes – welfare dependency, joblessness, teenage parenthood,
crime, and child abuse. The third class of measures is related to location, where
neighborhoods “where the incidence of nonconformity with existing social norms is
high” (Mincy et al. 1990, p. 451) rather than individuals are defined as underclass.
Buckingham (1999) separately examines the existence of an underclass in the UK
according to sets of criteria relating to individual behaviors, structural issues
such as access to the labor market, and critical approaches that deny the existence
of a significant underclass. He argues that while evidence is weak in terms of all
three criteria, he concludes that an underclass may be emerging in the UK.
Children are invariably present as passive subjects (but sometimes as active
criminals) in underclass studies. One of the major policy concerns with respect
to the “underclass” is that membership should not be passed from parents to
children and that early intervention represents the best opportunity to break
the cycle of poverty. Children are also the more direct objects of analysis in
some underclass studies, with focus typically on the impact of underclass parents
on child outcomes (see, e.g., Kliegman 1992; Sampson and Laub 1994).
These studies tend to support theories on the negative consequences of underclass
membership for children in terms of early development and in terms of
delinquency. By extension, they suggest that if we are interested in the broader
idea of child poverty (not just income), and the transmission of poverty from
parents to children, then we have to understand better “the socializing influence
of the family as reflected in disciplinary practices, supervision and direct parental
controls, and bonds of attachment” (Sampson and Laub 1994, p. 538). Findings
such as this present a challenge for the definition of child poverty, and whether it is
advisable to supplement income and other material indicators of poverty with
indicators of family functioning that may be related to children’s poverty in the
present, and as they develop into adults.
47.4.2 Social Exclusion
As the term suggests, social exclusion is not about command over economic
resources (although exclusion is commonly linked to a lack of resources), or
about a set of outcomes or functionings. Rather, it concerns processes in society
which lead some people to be excluded from a range of institutions, activities, or
environments: the “denial or non-realization of civil, political and social rights of
citizenship” (Room 1995). As such, it is in one sense the opposite of underclass
theories as proposed by Murray (1984, 1990). However, it is similar in that the
excluded nonetheless tend to be objectified in this approach (Ruth Levitas 1999;
Lister 2004; Veit-Wilson 1998). And just as “underclass” can incite a strong image
in many people’s imagination, so too “exclusion” has come to be associated not
only with poverty and unemployment but also membership of ethnic minorities and
residence in outer urban public housing estates.
1412 G. Redmond
The following definition of social exclusion, proposed by the UK Social Exclu-

sion Unit, has been commonly used by the UK government:
A shorthand term for what can happen when people or areas suffer from a combination of
linked problems such as unemployment, poor skills, low incomes, poor housing, high
crime, bad health and family breakdown. (Social Exclusion 2001, p. 10)
Levitas et al. (2007) propose a more comprehensive definition:
Social exclusion is a complex and multi-dimensional process. It involves the lack or denial
of resources, rights, goods and services, and the inability to participate in the normal
relationships and activities, available to the majority of people in a society, whether in
economic, social, cultural or political arenas. It affects both the quality of life of individuals
and the equity and cohesion of society as a whole. (Ruth Levitas et al. 2007, p. 9)
While the Social Exclusion Unit definition is ambiguous as to the causes of

exclusion (they could be in the individual, but they could also be in society), the
Levitas et al. definition suggests that the causes may lie outside the affected
individual (this is the essence of denial of rights) and may moreover have negative
effects, not only on people who are excluded but on the non-excluded too. The
implication is that it is in everybody’s interest to eliminate social exclusion.
While there is no one agreed definition of social exclusion, Atkinson (1998)
identifies three elements that appear to be constant in debates. First, it is a relative
concept. People are excluded from a particular community or society, at a particular
place and time. Unlike with, say, material welfare approaches discussed in Sect. 47.2
(which can but need not take a relative approach), it is not possible to judge whether
a person is excluded by looking at her circumstances in isolation. Over time, Sen has
tended to build relativity more into the capability approach (see Sen 2006), but he
still strongly argues for the irreducible absolutist core to poverty (1983).
The second element identified by Atkinson is agency. The examination of
a person’s failure to achieve inclusion has to be concerned with identification of
the actors (including possibly the person himself) causing exclusion. Agency is
arguably central to human rights, since for every right there is a corresponding duty
bearer. (However, this does not mean that where there is no explicitly named duty
bearer, there are no rights; for example, the international community has in princi-
ple the duty of upholding the rights of stateless persons). It is perhaps a weakness of
both the material welfare and capability approaches that they are inherently indi-
vidualistic, and that there is less emphasis on agency processes (as enabling, or as
oppression) in them.
The third element is that of dynamics. It is not only people’s current situation
that is important but their prospects for the future. Again, this sets social exclusion
apart from the other two approaches that tend to accommodate a “here and now”
perspective. “While the other approaches can study causes and interconnections
between different elements of deprivation, such investigation is not part of the
process of identifying the poor. In contrast, the definition of [social exclusion]
typically includes the process of becoming poor as well as some outcomes of
deprivation” (Ruggeri Laderchi et al. 2003, p. 258). Atkinson explicitly includes
in this element of dynamics not only people’s own prospects but those of their
children, where parents’ poverty, deprivation, or exclusion increases risks for
children’s social exclusion.
Like the capabilities approach, the social exclusion approach is inherently
multidimensional (Rogers 1995) or pluralistic (Wolff and de-Shalit 2007). As the
quasi-official definition of the UK government cited above suggests, disadvantage
does not tend to visit people in single variants, but in multiple forms, some of them
connected with a lack of material resources, but others stemming a range of other
situations that they find themselves in. But unlike the capabilities approach, the social
exclusion approach does not generally attempt to order different types of exclusion, or
“risk factors for exclusion” as the literature tends to characterize them (Ruth Levitas
et al. 2007; Social Exclusion Unit 2001). For example, it does not as a matter of course
draw a distinction between resources and functionings (Ruth Levitas et al. 2007), but
instead sees both as potential risk factors for social exclusion. Another feature of
the literature is that while risk factors are usually clearly spelt out, actual social
exclusion is not always so clearly identified (Burchardt et al. 2002).
Unlike either of the other two approaches, some experts claim that social
exclusion contains a certain subjective element. Barry (1998) cites the following
contribution from Professor Julian LeGrand at a meeting at the London School of
Economics’ Centre for the Analysis of Social Exclusion:
A (British) individual is socially excluded if (a) he/she is geographically resident in the

United Kingdom but (b) for reasons beyond his or her control, he/she cannot participate in
the normal activities of United Kingdom citizens, and (c) he/she would like to so partic-
ipate. (Barry 1998, p. 4)
In a similar vein, Estivill (2003, p. 13) states that exclusion is related to “the
dissatisfaction or unease felt by individuals who are faced with situations
in which they cannot achieve their objectives for themselves or their loved
ones” and that “exclusion tends to have a certain subjective content based on
material facts.” This is not to suggest that all those who feel excluded are
excluded, or that all those who do not feel excluded are not excluded. However,
it seems to me that the social exclusion approach does allow space for groups of
people to declare their inclusion or exclusion, and to investigate its causes. There is
little space in more “objective” approaches for such perspectives. Indeed, Sen appears
to view subjective assessments of one’s own situation with a degree of suspicion:
“The defeated and the down-trodden come to lack the courage to desire things that
others more favourably treated by society desire with easy confidence” (Amartya Sen
1987, p. 10).
As with studies using the capabilities approach, studies using the social
exclusion approach have tended to position themselves to some extent in opposition
to, or as an alternative to the more conventional methods of poverty analysis that
focus on material welfare. But unlike approaches that focus on material well-being,
or the capabilities approach, which are both situated broadly within the discipline of
economics (in the sense that both are engaged in conversations with utilitarianism,
both focus on the individual, and neither offers a trenchant critique of the market as
1414 G. Redmond
an efficient method of allocation), the social exclusion approach would claim to be

interdisciplinary:
A central idea is that exclusion has much to do with inequality in many dimensions —
economic, social, political, cultural. This broad framework not only helps to identify the
most important mechanisms and dimensions of exclusion, which vary from one situation
to another, but also provides the basis for an effective interdisciplinary approach. (Rogers
1995, p. 50)
While this interdisciplinary characteristic has considerable advantages, notably

that debates on social exclusion have blossomed across a much wider range of
issues than might have been the case had it been confined to a single discipline, it
may also contribute to its somewhat ragged and permanently unfinished feel, with
basic definitions, as well as lower order questions, subject to constant review and
refinement. For this reason perhaps, empirical applications of the social exclusion
approach do not easily cohere into a single literature in the manner of more
conventional studies of income poverty and deprivation, or studies of capability
deprivation.
47.4.2.1 Exclusion and Children

As discussed above, one of the key assumptions noted by Atkinson (1998) that
underpins the concept of social exclusion (and one of the things that sets it apart
from economic welfare and capability approaches) is that actions by people and
institutions have the impact of including or excluding adults and children from
what is considered normal in a community or society. Analysis of these actions,
moreover, can uncover not only inclusion or exclusion of individuals or groups
related to economic adversity but also on the basis of geography, mental health,
ability/disability or ethnicity, or a combination of several factors.
Micklewright (2002) draws up a list of potential actors who exclude children:
government and its agents, the labor market, schools, parents, other children, and
the children themselves. It is important to recognize that if these actors have the
power to exclude, then they also have the power to include. Many of these actors
also engage in multiple transactions with children, some of them inclusionary and
some less so.
Government and its agents are important agents of inclusion through redistri-
bution of resources toward low-income families and through provision of universal
services such as public transport, health, and education. In the Australian context,
Daly and Smith (2003) note some inclusionary positives related to income support
payments to indigenous families. However, governments can also exclude partic-
ular people through social policies that promote a particular welfare ethic or ideal
family type (as Apps 2006 argues in the case of the current Australian income tax
system), or through policies that create strong systems of social stratification
(Esping-Andersen 1990).
The labor market includes many children as workers, often from quite a young
age, but sometimes exploits them, particularly through payment of very low
wages (Ridge 2002). In their studies of children’s perceptions of poverty in the

UK, both Roker (1998) and Ridge (2002) attest to children’s real contributions to
the household economy through giving at least some of their earnings from
casual work to their parents. Micklewright (2002) argues that children can suffer
from their parents’ exclusion from the labor market and that young people are
often excluded by employer “short-termism” which makes firms less willing to
invest in employees long term. Smyth (2002) points out that “credential creep”
implies employers may increasingly demand formal qualifications for even fairly
basic jobs.
Schools are clearly agents of inclusion in the first instance, in that they bring
children together. However, schools can also be agents of exclusion – literally, as
Micklewright (2002) points out in the case of exclusions (sending home children for
unacceptable behavior) and expulsions but also because they may fail to teach some
children adequately, or because of policies that exclude children from some activ-
ities because they do not have the means to pay for them, or because of policies that
stigmatize children who access income-tested school services. One UK study shows
that expulsions and suspensions are much more common among children with low
incomes. Such children, moreover, appear to have worse relations in general with
their teachers and are less concerned about doing well at school (Ridge 2002).
Many children also feel keenly the stigma of lack of money at school. Roker
(1998) reports on some children’s reluctance to ask for discounts available to children
from low income families for school trips and not being able to afford gear for sports
classes. Ridge (2002, pp.141–2) argues that it is not simply financial hardship that
excludes children at school but institutional practices that exacerbate the effects of
poverty on children by stigmatizing them and effectively presiding over their exclu-
sion from some school activities, such as trips where a parental contribution is
required.
Parents, Micklewright argues, “have an enormous influence on the well-being
of their children. One implication is that parents must be a major potential agent
for their children’s exclusion” (2002, Chap. 3). He suggests that parents can
exclude their children by not bringing enough money into the household, by
failing to spend their money wisely, by failing to take an interest in their
children’s education, or by failing to take adequate interest in their children’s
health, nutrition, or social development (or conversely, parents can include
children by paying due attention to these aspects of their development). His
point is that parents and parenting skills are very important for child well-being
and development, and while parental failures may be inadvertent or unintended,
and greatly exacerbated (or ameliorated) by other factors, the point remains that
parents can be agents of exclusion. This argument fits well with Mayer’s (1997)
thesis that children’s life chances are not principally governed by their parents’
incomes but by other factors relating to parenting practices and parents’ psycho-
logical well-being. This finding fits with qualitative research that tries to under-
stand children’s perceptions of poverty. In several such studies, family support is
one factor that strongly emerges as important for children: parents and families
1416 G. Redmond
can provide children with the means to cope better with poverty (Ridge 2002;
Roker 1998; van der Hoek 2005).
Other children come across in several qualitative studies of children and poverty
as agents of both inclusion and exclusion, not least because of the importance
children themselves place in fitting in, and in being included (Ridge 2002; Roker
1998; van der Hoek 2005; Weinger 2000). (This however was not apparent from
one Australian study of children in economic adversity, where children reported
being bullied for a number of reasons but not their poverty (Taylor and Fraser
2003).) Some evidence moreover suggests that this exclusion can be ingrained from
a very early age (Backett-Milburn et al. 2003; Weinger 2000).
Finally, children can also exclude themselves if they are ascribed agency. In
a review of a number of studies of children and poverty, Attree (2006) notes that
children and their parents often have few aspirations to engage more in life in the
present, or to improve their situations in the future. In addition, some studies show
that children exclude themselves from activities because they do not want to
pressure their parents into giving them money that they cannot afford, so they
simply do not ask (Ridge 2002; van der Hoek 2005). In contrast, children whose
parents have recently found work and whose family incomes have increased find
themselves going out more and engaging in more activities (Ridge 2007).
Micklewright (2002) notes some other forms of self-exclusion (not all of which
I would agree with), including wagging school and drug addiction. Certainly,
there is an element of voluntarism in children’s decisions to miss school or take
drugs. But agency in these circumstances should perhaps be interpreted in the
context of constraints (including poverty and adult authority) that may greatly
restrict freedom of action in a range of domains that are considered more legit-
imate. Arguably, self-exclusion by children may follow some form of exclusion
by others more powerful.
While identification of likely agents of children’s exclusion serves the pur-
pose of pointing toward responsible actors, the operationalization of agency to
foster inclusion or exclusion in survey microdata has proved difficult, since this
would involve capturing dynamic processes that cannot be easily recorded in
“snapshot” data. The more usual approach in the analysis of social exclusion
using survey microdata has been to identify “risk factors” or “drivers”
(Bradshaw et al. 2004) that might be associated with the state of social exclu-
sion. The role of agents in the process of exclusion tends to be overlooked. This
is clear, for example, in the comprehensive review of indicators of social
exclusion undertaken by Levitas et al. (2007) and the operationalization of
Levitas’ work by Oroyemi et al. (2009) to measure social exclusion of children
in the UK. The indicators reviewed are drawn from large-scale survey microdata and
in a few cases from administrative data. Indicators (on low income, deprivation,
school attendance, educational attainment, unemployment, homelessness, physical
and mental health, child protection, and so on) describe states that may be the product
of exclusionary processes – “moments” of social reproduction to use Lareau’s (2003)
terminology, but do not adequately capture the processes, or the “moments,”
themselves.
47.4.3 Participative Approaches
In spite of a long tradition in the social science of poverty analysis, it is only in

relatively recent times that people living in poverty themselves have been asked by
researchers for their own perspectives on poverty and the services that aim to support
them (Lister 2004; Narayan-Parker et al. 2000; Ruggeri Laderchi et al. 2003;
Williams et al. 1999). Just as poor people have recently been increasingly recognized
as persons with rights, dignity, and agency (Office of the High Commissioner of
Human Rights 2004), it is only in recent times, too, that children’s right to be heard
(United Nations 1989) has become widely accepted. In tandem with these two
developments, a growing body of academic literature has sought to document and
understand children’s perspectives on economic adversity. The development of this
literature can be seen as a positive indicator of concern for children’s rights and well-
being. These studies have shed new light on how children perceive poverty and how
they respond to economic disadvantage.
Following the pioneering work of Narayan-Parker et al. (2000), Participative
Poverty Assessments (PPAs) are now a standard part of World Bank-led poverty
assessments in developing countries. Norton et al. (2001) define PPAs as instru-
ments “for including poor people’s views in the analysis of poverty and the
formulation of strategies to reduce it through public policy” (p.6). They argue
that PPAs can strengthen poverty assessment through broadening stakeholder
involvement, increasing support for antipoverty strategies, enriching understanding
of poverty, and building relationships between policymakers and people in poor
communities. There is no prior reason why participative methods of conceptualiz-
ing and understanding poverty should fit within a “poverty as a relationship”
framework. However, one of the most consistent perspectives from PPAs is that
poverty is experienced as powerlessness.
The need to understand the experience of powerlessness is a recurring theme in
research that engages with children (Christensen 2004; Mayall 2002). This comes
through strongly in research that engages with children and young people on living
in the context of low incomes and poverty. As Redmond (2008, p. 4) observes with
respect to children’s perspectives, “it is usually not poverty per se that hurts, but the
social exclusion that accompanies it.” Atree (2006) states that “for children living in
low-income households life can be a struggle to avoid being set apart from friends
and peers” (p.59). That is, children’s powerlessness emanates, not directly from a
lack of resources, but the exclusion that happens as a result. Children often feel left
out and report being picked on because they do not possess some things that other
children appear to take for granted. Several studies argue that this problem of
exclusion increases in children’s perception with age (Ridge 2002; Roker 1998).
Ridge (2002) draws up a comprehensive list of material possessions and capa-
bilities that can result in the exclusion of poor children from two domains in
particular – school and social networks. School came across strongly as a locus
of exclusion, something also apparent from other studies (Taylor and Fraser 2003;
Taylor and Nelms 2006; Skattebol et al. 2012). “Dress-down days,” when children
could wear their own clothes to school, caused anxiety among some children who
1418 G. Redmond
did not consider that they had any decent or fashionable clothes and were afraid of
being teased or laughed at by the other children. Uniforms, on the other hand, were
seen as having a protective effect – reducing differences among children, although
some parents worried about not being able to afford the “full” uniform (Taylor and
Fraser 2003). Poor children also regularly missed out on school trips that required
a parental contribution. The impact on children was twofold: first, being excluded
from the actual trip, and second, “the people who are left behind in the school are
the people who are looked down on” (16-year-old boy in Ridge 2002, p. 74).
Wikeley et al. (2007) show how poverty can also impact on children’s participa-
tion in organized out of school activities. Poorer children are more reliant on school
provision of extracurricular activities, while middle class children can take advantage
of a wider range of activities. Transportation costs tend to restrict young people’s
access to many activities (a point echoed by Ridge 2002). Poorer children also
frequently have complex family lives that can demand significant amounts of time
for maintaining relationships, for example, visiting stepparents, or caring for younger
or disabled siblings. Some children also appear to isolate themselves, avoiding social
contact with their peers; this is interpreted by Wikeley et al. (2007) as face-saving –
covering inability to participate for financial reasons with a seeming indifference. In
addition, poverty appears to negatively contribute to children’s exclusion from social
networks. Ridge cites an Irish study which reports that children who do not have the
“right” clothes are fearful of being bullied or rejected by their peers. Missing out on
holidays appears to be particularly difficult for some children (Van der Hoek 2005).
A range of recent studies (many of them emanating from the Young Lives project
based at Oxford University – see www.younglives.org.uk) show that exclusion as
the main impact of poverty is as much an experience of children in developing
countries as it is of children in rich countries. In their study of children’s perspec-
tives of poverty in Uganda, Witter and Bukokhe (2004) emphasize what they term
as “the mental suffering [the children] experience as a result of being poor, and the
humiliation they feel.” Children report being teased by other children about being
smelly and dirty, or being forced into sex and being consequently excluded and
treated with disdain. Camfield (2010) also focuses on exclusion in her study of
children’s perspectives on poverty in Ethiopia. She concludes that:
The concept of social exclusion can extend our understanding of the factors sustaining
poverty and disadvantage in childhood by highlighting its multi-dimensionality and loca-
tion in a particular place and time. Talking in terms of social exclusion rather than poverty
denaturalises poverty and inequality by emphasising firstly that it is something people do to
others and have done to them, and secondly that it is not inevitable. Interventions to address
childhood poverty should provide resources for social participation as well as survival, and
recognise the operation of mechanisms of power, both directly through coercion and
indirectly through shaping children’s understandings of their lives. (Camfield 2010, p. 279)
These, arguably, are the key contributions that social exclusion approaches can
make to the understanding of child poverty – its multidimensionality and particu-
larity; its process effects in terms of shaping relationships among children, as well
as between children and adults; and (perhaps most important) its unnaturalness.
However defined, whether in terms of material possessions, capabilities, or unequal
social relations, child poverty in both rich and poor countries should not be seen as
a “natural” state of affairs but as a challenge for children and adults in poorer and
richer countries alike to eliminate.
47.5 Implications for the Definition and Analysis of Child

Poverty
The purpose of this concluding section is to summarize pathways toward addressing

the question raised in the introduction: what are the implications for children of the
different definitions of poverty? In considering this question, it is worth
distinguishing between concepts of poverty – what we are trying to capture in
a particular definition of poverty – and poverty indicators, the measures we use to
operationalize those concepts. While indicators should, as a matter of best practice,
capture the essence of the concept they are designed to measure (Atkinson et al.
2002), they often fail to live up to this expectation. Here, we put questions of actual
operationalization aside and focus on the relevance and usefulness of different
concepts of poverty in the analysis of child well-being.
47.5.1 Does the Definition Matter?
There are a number of senses in which the definition might matter. It matters because
different definitions produce radically different overall poverty estimates, or differences
in the characteristics of who is described as poor. But it also matters in terms of process
and dynamics, where responsibility is placed for reducing poverty, and in particular the
extent to which people themselves, or society, are responsible for poverty and its
consequences. In their review of existing evidence for differences between poverty
approaches, Ruggeri Laderchi et al. (2003) show that material welfare and capabilities
approaches can produce significant differences in poverty estimates. But this in itself is
not surprising: a change in the income poverty line or in the equivalence scale can have
the same impact on poverty assessments. In the final analysis, the level of poverty that
one might wish to ascribe to a particular population is a political matter brought on by
judicious political choices in the construction of the poverty line and other value
judgments. Equally important perhaps is how poverty defined in different ways changes
over time. UNICEF (2005) shows that in Ireland, while absolute deprivation among
households with children declined notably over the 1990s, relative child poverty hardly
changed at all: massive economic growth “lifted all boats” but was also accompanied by
a significant increase in inequality. If trends over time with constant definitions can vary
within the material welfare tradition, there is reason to suspect that trends in the three
different approaches examined in this chapter may also vary.
The main reason why the definition matters, however, is because it also suggests
where policy emphasis should lie in tackling poverty. The radically different
philosophical underpinnings of the three approaches discussed in this chapter
point to different policy solutions. This is now clear in several European countries
1420 G. Redmond
with a shift in policy emphasis from “material poverty” to “exclusion” and in some
countries (both rich and developing) with a greater emphasis on capabilities and
power relations between poor people and the rest of society.
47.5.2 Implications for Children
A number of issues have been flagged in this chapter that are important for the
applications of the different definitions to children. These issues can be seen as
setting out parameters for the empirical examination of child poverty.
Within the material welfare approach, there is now a large literature on the
impact of issues such as equivalence scales and intrahousehold sharing on
measurement of income poverty among children. Less explored within the mate-
rial welfare approach is the issue of deprivation and children – which types of
deprivation are particularly important for children in the present and for their
future development (Qvortrup 1994), and the meaning of deprivation indicators
commonly collected in surveys for children. Results from qualitative research on
children and poverty may go some way toward clarifying this issue. However,
examination of deprivation and children in the household context will need to
take account of children’s position in the household as (usually) dependant, so
any feelings of deprivation could as much reflect a sense of powerlessness, or
some other type of deficit, as it may poverty.
Within the human development and capabilities approach, a number of critical
issues emerge. First, the capabilities approach (unlike approaches that focus on
material welfare) suggests a clear distinction between resources on the one hand,
and functionings or outcomes on the other. This is useful for poverty analysis, as it
suggests the need to build a picture of what is intrinsically important for children
and to use this as the basis for defining minimum functionings. Also important
however is the link between resources and functionings, and how conversion
factors change for different groups of children. One approach to linking capabilities
to material well-being would be to define a means of calculating conversion factors
for given groups of children.
In terms of poverty as a relation, underclass appears to be a difficult subject to
incorporate into a study of child poverty, except in terms of the impact of having
underclass parents. This suggests perhaps the incorporation of some indicators of
family functioning into a poverty definition in order to capture some essence of the
“difference” between poor and nonpoor. However, as is the case with all concep-
tualization and analysis of poverty, the value-laden character of such an analysis
would need to be made explicit. The social exclusion approach is perhaps more
promising in that it offers the possibility of identifying agents of exclusion – those
who have power and those who experience other people’s power (for good or ill).
A definition of poverty in terms of social exclusion suggests the construction of
a set of indicators that measure the extent to which children are helped or hindered
by agents of exclusion, be they schools, peers, the labor market, parents, or
themselves. It further suggests an understanding of poverty in terms of its social

effects, ranging from reduced possibilities for participation to active discrimination
and exclusion.
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Well-Being and Children in a Consumer
Society 48
Ragnhild Brusdal and Ivar Frønes
48.1 Introduction
As commercialization has come to dominate new areas of life, children’s

well-being is increasingly being drawn into the expanding markets. An analysis
of the complex interplay of well-being and consumption requires an understanding
of the dimensions of well-being, as well as of various markets. This chapter is
organized in sections focusing different perspectives of well-being, relating these
perspectives to the relevant markets and discussing the different aspects of con-
sumption in relation to children’s well-being. The last section seeks to sum up the
interplay between the aspects of children’s well-being and the variety of markets
and cultural and economic contexts.
48.2 Understanding Well-Being
48.2.1 Well-Being, Consumption, and Consumerism
Modern societies have undergone commercialization processes in which the lives of

children increasingly are subjugated to markets (Kline 1995; Pecora 1998; Schor
2004; Beder et al. 2009), both directly, as active consumers, and indirectly, when
parents seek to fulfill their children’s needs. Children in today’s postindustrial
societies increasingly spend their time in commercialized arenas where participation
R. Brusdal (*)
SIFO (National Institute for Consumer Research), Nydalen, Oslo, Norway
I. Frønes
Department of Sociology and Human Geography, University of Oslo, Oslo, Norway
The Norwegian Center for Child Behavioural Development, University of Oslo, Oslo, Norway

1428 R. Brusdal and I. Frønes
and products carry a price tag. Participation in organized activities has a cost, and
indoor activities often imply consumer goods like computer games and toys.
The childhood in which middle-class children spent their free time in unsupervised
play in public spaces is mostly a dream of the past. Nobody lives outside the market;
increased commercialization often has the strongest consequences for those who
consume less (Chin 2001).
The child consumer is often associated with the market for specific childhood
products (Cook 2004), but understanding children’s well-being as consumers
cannot be restricted to what they buy themselves or to their “pester power.” Apart
from the basic needs for food, clothes, and protection, children’s consumption
includes their access to good-quality housing as well as to health care, education
and educational materials, family holidays, sports equipment, theater tickets,
parental transport, and so on. Modern children’s consumption is also anchored in
the symbolic value of products as well as in their functions.
We consume to be able to do things, we consume to belong, we consume to
impress; consumption displays hedonism and egoism as well as altruism. Con-
sumption may make us happy as well as obese, stimulate our development as well
as harm it. Most aspects of life, be it housing, leisure activities, media use, or choice
of meals, imply consumption, which is at the core of our modern lifestyles and
socialization. Miles (1998) distinguishes between “consumption” – purchasing
something – and “consumerism” – consumption as part of the very fabric of life.
Well-being is not influenced by consumption; it is interwoven with it. The markets
are increasingly offering not just tangible products but symbolic values; the value of
the product is based on its position in symbolic hierarchies.
In relation to modern childhood, the term “commercial” is both an economic and
a cultural category: economic refers to the price tag attached to the product and
cultural to the symbolic meaning of the product. The cultural and normative
differentiation of products, in which upscale products often escape the label
“commercial,” illustrates the complex interplay of economic and cultural capital
within the framework of consumerism. The consumption of products and services
often represents a prerequisite for access to the many activities and social settings
that facilitate the well-being of children.
In this chapter we define consumption not as what we consume but as what we
pay privately to consume; the consumption of free public goods is not part of this
analysis.
48.2.2 Perspectives on Well-Being
The frameworks defining material well-being vary with historical and social con-
texts and with political regimes, and the perspectives of various disciplines frame
the concepts in the vocabularies of the social sciences. Objective indicators on well-
being will in general refer to material conditions and financial security. Subjective
well-being is often understood as equivalent to happiness and satisfaction.
48 Well-Being and Children in a Consumer Society 1429
Quality of life represents a much broader scope, involving income, wealth, and
employment but also environmental factors and health, access to education, recre-
ation and leisure time, and social integration and social belonging. The capability
approach of Amartya Sen (1999) sees well-being as related to the capacity to access
and use a variety of goods for one’s own purposes (in Sen’s vocabulary, the
alternative combinations of functioning one can achieve). Well-being is not related
to subjective experiences of happiness but to rights, opportunities, and development
of capacities.
Childhood can be understood as a social and cultural framework influencing the
well-being of children. Well-being refers to the life and happiness of the age
category “children” but also to how childhood experiences influence their future.
This is illustrated by the Convention on the Rights of the Child, referring both to
children’s right to happiness in the present and to their rights to develop and realize
their potential. Opportunities to realize one’s potential involve the development of
capacities, which requires an opportunity structure that makes this development
possible as well as the opportunity of freedom of choice.
From an analytical perspective, it is important to grasp the relevant dimensions
of well-being related to children and consumption. The material and welfare
dimensions are relevant both to the experiences of the present and to development.
The experience of happiness and pleasure relates primarily to the present, while
opportunity structures and freedom of choice are fundamentally related to devel-
opment and the unfolding of potentials. Social belonging refers both to happiness in
the present and to the social capital required for the future. Here, well-being related
to basic material conditions and services will be referred to as well-being as
welfare; well-being related to mental and psychical health will be referred to as
well-being as health. Well-being as inspired by the capability approach, the oppor-
tunity to realize one’s potential and to access resources corresponding with prefer-
ences, will be referred to as well-being as participation and development. The
experiences of pleasures, satisfaction, and happiness in the present will be referred
to as well-being as satisfaction and happiness. Social integration and belonging will
be termed well-being as belonging.
Children’s total well-being is provided by a set of institutions, services, and
products provided by the state, by local communities, by the market, and by
families. Well-being as welfare is traditionally measured by material conditions,
housing, safety, and welfare services (e.g., OECD 2009; UNICEF 2007).
Well-being as health refers to both health in the present and to the influence of
childhood lifestyles on future health. Well-being as participation and development is
primarily shown through opportunity structures, while well-being as satisfaction and
happiness in general is indicated by surveys on subjective experiences. Well-being as
belonging is indicated as social and cultural integration and as development of identity.
A variety of studies illustrate that all aspects of well-being have to be related to
the intersection of gender, class, cultural patterns, and household position; an
analysis of the part consumption plays in the many dimensions of well-being has
to be related to these intersections (Phoenix 2005).
48.3 Well-Being as Welfare
48.3.1 Private Consumption and Private Priorities
We define consumption as private consumption, and do not include the

consumption of public services. Services and goods that are fully covered by public
agencies are outside the market; in some countries preschools are free of charge
(e.g., in France), while in most countries preschools are at least partly paid for
by the parents. However, the amount of support or subsidy influences the price
on the market, and subsidies are also likely to ensure a certain universal standard.
Services that are paid for by private means are subject to private budgets and
private choices related to the options available on various markets. The family is
the fundamental consumer unit; from the start children are exposed to different
consumption patterns rooted in the resources and priorities of the parents. The fact
that children whose families live below the poverty line are more likely than children
from higher income families not to be involved in out-of-school-time activities (Ridge
2002) is likely to be rooted in scarce economic resources as well as in lack of relevant
social and cultural capital. When, for instance, expenditures on kindergarten are
privately funded, it implies that parents’ possible spending on early education has to
compete with other attractive products on the market. With scarce material resources
and/or little public support, families have to make a choice between options that are
attractive at the moment, like fashion and status products, and products and services
that will pay off in the long run, such as educational services.
Several studies indicate how ethnic and social differences are related to how
consumption is used as an indication of collective identity (Lamont and Molnar
2001) and how parents from different ethnic and social groups invest in educational
products or fashion and conspicuous consumption (Charles et al. 2009). This is primar-
ily related to different reference groups in the local culture, but the dilemma of choosing
between investments in long-term educational products or in short-term fashions is
accentuated when both products are only available on the market. Public financing of
preschool, as in France, partly eliminates this dilemma. When welfare takes educational
participation off the market, this removes educational products not only from the budget
and the economy of the parents but from the parents’ priority.
48.3.2 The Increasing Dependency on the Market
Miles’s (1998) characterization of our time as a culture of “consumerism” is related to

the increasing entanglement of the market and general well-being, as illustrated by the
need for a personal computer for educational purposes or sports equipment for
participation in athletics. In the educational society, a desk and a quiet place to do
homework are part of children’s well-being (UNICEF 2007), implying that this aspect
of housing is directly related to educational purposes and well-being. The decline of
informal leisure and the rise of organized leisure activities raise the “entrance fees” as
well as the need for equipment and commuting costs. Participation and the
development of social capital are increasingly dependent on consumption. Deprived

children miss out on a broad range of essential items and activities enjoyed by their
wealthier peers (Middleton et al. 1997; Mayer 1997; Pugh 2009) and often lack
products that generate important educational and even social capital. The increasing
time children spend in organized activities, and the expanding markets for activities
and “edutainment,” implies that even the accumulation of the social capital of peers
increasingly requires money and parental support.
Free access to playgrounds, activities, friends, and so on is an essential part of
children’s well-being. But even the access to goods that are free of charge is correlated
with other factors that have to be bought, like residential location. A safe environment
is not bought on a specific market, but access to that environment is controlled by other
factors that are market based. Schools are generally free of charge, but the quality of
local schools influences the price of housing, as does the availability of space and
safety and the local level of social and cultural capital. Profiles of housing prices
illustrate that the well-being of children is an important aspect of residential markets –
parents are moving to communities they consider suitable for their children and their
development. The pressure to get into an excellent school by buying homes in the
nearby district has in some cases lead to “admission lotteries,” to stop parents from
buying extremely expensive houses close to the school. The well-being of children, as
exemplified by good schools and child-friendly environments, is not traded directly
but is one of the most important aspects of the housing market.
48.3.3 The Importance of Family Resources for Well-Being
In general parents will give their children’s well-being high priority, as illustrated
by a study that showed that British single parents receiving government income
support spent almost as much as other parents on Christmas presents for their
children (Middleton et al. 1997). In the period between 1990 and 1999 in China,
children’s share of family consumption increased with the general increase in
affluence (Ying 2003).
Consumption may influence participation, as in the tangible products required for
specific activities such as sports equipment or musical instruments. Social participa-
tion may also require commercial products that signal style and identity, and eco-
nomic resources may be necessary for participating in the social rituals of young
people. Studies on poverty indicate that one possible consequence of lack of eco-
nomic resources is loss of relevant social participation; poverty often entails lack of
access more than lack of things. Lack of economic capital also forces families to
make choices that well-off parents do not have to make. The poor mother who gives
priority to new sneakers makes her child happy at the moment and disguises their
visible poverty, but she is less likely to invest in the accumulation of cultural and
educational capital ensuring the child’s future. Children of poor immigrant families
that intensively support their children’s educational efforts, emphasizing future well-
being and not the needs and wants of today, often lack the material items that are
available to well-off children.
Townsend (1979) pinpointed that children in low-income families may be

hindered from fully participating in society. Increased commercialization is likely
to reinforce this trend.
48.4 Well-Being as Health
48.4.1 Health, Safety, and Risk
The relation today between consumption and well-being is vividly illustrated by the
increased frequency of overweight. Obesity is often understood as a modern epi-
demic, affecting up to one-third of children in Europe and even more in the United
States. Obese children recognize significantly more of the food advertisements they
see; being sensitive to these ads is significantly correlated with the amount of food
eaten after exposure to them (Halford et al. 2004). Parents who blame their
children’s poor eating habits on advertising of unhealthy products may have
a point (Hastings et al. 2003).
Children who are not eating the recommended number of fruits and vegetables
do not do so just because their families cannot afford to buy these products;
eating habits are related to cultural preferences as well as to household budgets.
Overweight is related to lifestyle in general, and children’s environments provide
a wide range of opportunities to consume food, soft drinks, and snacks that are
energy dense. These are readily consumed, relatively cheap and accessible, and
may inadvertently lead to overconsumption and overweight (WHO 2007).
These products often contribute to the consumption of low-nutrient food and
to an increase in soft drink intake at the expense of milk. This means not only
more calories but may lead, for example, to teenage girls not getting enough
calcium in their diet.
The challenge of obesity illustrates that while starvation and malnutrition still
affect a majority of the world’s child population, affluence can create new health
issues. Health problems are not produced by affluence as such but by its interaction
with cultural capital and the market. In low-income countries, obesity increases as
wealth increases; in high-income countries, obesity increases with decreasing
income and with decreasing educational level.
Zelizer (1985) describes how children have become the core of family life; and
the possible risks to the lives of these priceless children have become a basic threat
to the family. Today’s parents are concerned with children’s safety – with safe
surroundings, safe objects to play with, and protective equipment related to their
activities. Responsibility is important in modern parenting and not without reason;
unintentional injuries are the leading cause of death in children and a major cause of
disability. Life outside the home is understood as risky even if the parents increas-
ingly control it; participation in sports and organized play, which is encouraged and
paid for by the parents, carries the potential for injuries. To prevent this it is
important that the child have proper equipment and safety gear, which has provided
a fertile ground for expansion of the markets for these products. Safety products
proliferate and get more differentiated; every sport and activity requires specific
equipment to provide maximum safety. The markets contribute to better and more
differentiated products but also to more expensive and specialized ones (Watson
et al. 2005).
The application of the term “risk society” (Beck 1992) to modern developed
countries is paradoxical in the sense that people in these societies are generally safer
than ever before in human history. In Western countries accidents among children
have decreased in the last few decades (UNICEF 2001). The risk societies can be
understood as risk-oriented cultures rather than societies filled with risks; children
are precious and more vulnerable than grown-ups and are subsequently at the center
of modern risk cultures. The parents’ experiences of risks in consumer societies
may stem from their children’s possible lack of the right consumer goods or the
quality of the consumer goods, as well as from the possible unhealthy effects of
overconsumption.
The discourses on advertising and cultural pressures, health, and products
directed toward children also bring up complex issues of well-being, such as
cognitive development and self-esteem. The symbolic aspects of some products
may affect children’s development; for instance the styling pressures felt by
“tween” girls have been termed “sexualization” by the American Psychological
Association (APA). The industry marketing sexualized clothes and other accesso-
ries to preteens produces a forced maturation that takes “childhood” away
from young girls (Rysst 2010). The APA argues that this may negatively affect
well-being, illustrated by eating disorders, low self-esteem, negative mood, and
depressive symptoms.
Studies indicate that children under a certain age level and cognitive level will in
general not be able to discriminate between advertisement and information
or entertainment (Oates et al. 2002). These children do not comprehend that
commercial transactions make them an attractive group of possible customers, as
well as a vulnerable group (Bakan 2011). In countries like Norway, Sweden, and
Greece, advertisements directed toward small children are prohibited; Greece also
has a ban on advertising children’s toys between 7 am and 10 pm. The fact that
television advertisements seem to have an impact on children’s health and eating
behavior illustrate that the debate on protection versus children’s right to make their
own decisions is related to a well-known aspect of upbringing: the relationship
between short-term and long-term consequences.
48.4.2 The Moment and the Long Term: The Tensions of Well-Being
Children and adolescents who are obese are at risk for health and psycho-
logical problems, but the most severe risks are related to their future; obese
youth are likely to become overweight adults and might suffer from heart
disease, diabetes, and cancer. Well-being related to health illustrates the
tension between the moment and the future; the immediate pleasure of eating
sweets can have unfortunate long-term consequences. The paradox of public
agencies campaigning against heavily advertised products lead in some cases

to banning some products from the market, as happened with tobacco in
many countries. The risk products, from sweets to tobacco or alcohol, are
generally characterized by the sense of well-being in the moment but lead to
a decrease in well-being in the long run. Today’s children might be the first
generation born after World War II whose life span will actually decrease
due to their lifestyle.
New products enter the market every day. Some of them are seen to benefit the
child, others are thought to harm the child, and some have effects that are not known
yet. Cell phones illustrate one of the dilemmas of the risk society: should parents
fear them or embrace them? Cell phones help parents and children to organize their
day and keep children in touch with their friends; for children over a certain age,
a cell phone is necessary for social belonging simply because without it they are not
able to communicate and participate socially. But cell phones also give children
access to gaming and virtual worlds as well as to social networks that may imply
risks, and research cannot guarantee that cell phones do not contribute to brain
tumors or other future health problems.
Good upbringing is often defined as teaching children to refrain from the
pleasure of the moment for the benefit of the future. This is a critical issue in the
relationship between well-being and consumption, and illustrative of the discourses
on children’s right to autonomy versus their right to protection. The
markets illustrate the dilemmas of protection and agency; while the sociology of
childhood in general has underscored children’s competence and agency,
analyses of the relationship between children and commercial corporations depict
children as being under assault by forces seeking to exploit their vulnerabilities
(Bakan 2011).
48.5 Well-Being as Participation and Development
48.5.1 The Educational Markets
Sen’s capability approach understands well-being as related to the freedom to use

ones resources in correspondence with individual preferences; for children, devel-
opment of these capacities to choose is at the core of well-being. Middle-class
upbringing that seeks to develop children’s capacities and to accumulate cultural
and social capital has been termed “concerted cultivation” (Lareau 2003), whereas
the child rearing of working-class families is referred to as “natural growth” – if you
give your children love, food, and safety, they will grow and thrive. Seiter (1993)
argues that middle-class parents are in particular concerned with educational
measures, as they seek to ensure the child’s social and academic advancement.
Vincent and Ball (2007) conclude that stimulating and enriching activities are
a response to the concern and the responsibility that these parents experience.
The child is a project to be cultivated. Modern parents are more oriented toward
expert advice than were their mothers, especially educated middle-class
mothers (Beck and Beck-Gernshein 1995), and middle-class parents see

their children as unique individuals who have the right to develop their potential
(Gillies 2005). Styles of consumption seem to be rooted in styles of
parenting, which again are anchored in class position, in economic as well as
cultural capital (Theokas and Bloch 2006; Stasz and Bloch 2007).
The term “concerted cultivation” refers both to a culture of parenting and to an
extensive use of products and services provided by the markets that cater to this
parental culture. The focus on educational achievements and skills influences not
only patterns and ideologies of upbringing but also the expansion of the markets for
educational products directed toward the children and their parents. The sociological
understanding of social and cultural resources as capitals is part of modern parenting
culture; cultivating various capitals is based not only on the value of the capitals as
such but on the fact that they are convertible; the accumulation of cultural and social
capitals through the socialization process will later be converted into economic
capital and greater well-being.
“Edutainment” (also infotainment or entertainment education) refers to
forms of entertainment designed to educate as well as to amuse” (Wikipedia
24.8.2011). Edutainment also implies learning and active participation, as
illustrated by edutainment centers and educational toys. Playful learning edu-
tainment pointing toward adult activities has always existed, as play or as fairy
tales and fables that promoted moral development and cultural understanding.
Modern forms include television productions, film, museum exhibits, and
computer software incorporating educational content and/or involving children
in playful educational activities. As the cultivation of social and cognitive
development is increasingly related to the market, as illustrated by sales
figures, children’s participation in different activities requires greater economic
resources.
The organized childhood and “concerted cultivation” moved participation
off the street corner and into a variety of market-related arenas (Jacobson 2004)
and increasingly based children’s capacities for participation and their access to
educational requisites on the market. The varieties of organized activities,
the growing number of edutainment centers, the after-school activities, and the
educational kindergartens are all increasingly becoming the meeting places of peers.
Participation and social capital develop social and cultural competencies, which are at
the center of modern middle-class upbringing. Social participation may also require
certain products because of their symbolic functions, as illustrated by the power of
brands and styles. The need for these consumer goods expands the influence of
the markets, and their lack may marginalize some children and adolescents relative
to activities and social participation. Lack of participation hinders the development of
competencies and delimits the development of social and cultural capital (Chin 2001).
Thus, the markets can help create well-being if one has the economic and
cultural resources to acquire the right products. The educational markets require
cultural capital and produce cultural capital. The market can as well hinder the
development of competence, both through lack of resources and the acquisition of
products that do not contribute to development.
48.5.2 The Hierarchy of Needs and the Development of Capacities
The hierarchy of needs implies that fulfilling “lower” needs leads to increasingly
more complex ones that have to be met – moving from basic material needs to the
need for self-realization (Maslow 1968). Well-being is related to this hierarchy;
self-realization has to be matched by opportunity structures and individual
capacities. In affluent societies the challenge of achieving well-being is not only
to be able to realize one’s preferences but the continuous evolution of individual as
well as collective capacities and preferences.
The fulfillment of material needs is a prerequisite of the development of “higher”
needs; the challenge is the development of capabilities matching the needs at the top
of the hierarchy. The concept of commodification indicates that the market and the
culture of marketing may exploit human needs instead of fulfilling them, representing
an obstacle to the attainment of the “higher needs.” The idea of commodity fetishism
and false needs, emphasized by the Frankfurter School (see, e.g., Marcuse 1964),
implies needs defined by the profit motive. For vulnerable customers like children,
“higher” needs, such as self-realization, requiring the development of relevant capac-
ities, will easily be targeted by products promising to secure these needs by their
symbolic values. The frustration that follows when the products fail may in fact be
positive for profit. The economic dynamics of symbolic markets is partly driven by
the inability of the products to fulfill the needs addressed, in this way producing the
need for new products.
The markets produce products that open up the development of higher needs,
but the markets produce commodification and reification as well as products
catering to self-realization. Well-being as self-realization is dependent on the
capacity for self-reflexivity related to social and cultural contexts and values.
This puts children in a vulnerable position; children’s well-being requires markets
that support the development of the capacities for critical reflection.
48.6 Well-Being as Satisfaction and Happiness
48.6.1 Well-Being and Happiness as Market Products
In economics, if the preference for product A over product B represents an increase

in marginal utility, the product increases well-being. Studies of the general levels of
satisfaction and happiness approach well-being not as a relationship to products or
events but as subjective happiness. Satisfaction and happiness are in general
understood not as peak moments that are the positive affects one may feel at
a single point in time but as a more general state of mind. Understanding the
dynamics of modern consumerism requires understanding both the utility functions
of various products and the relationship between the products and the general
experience of well-being.
Although well-being often is associated with the pleasure generated by the
acquisition of material products, well-being as such has itself become a product
on modern markets. Products that especially address young children often focus on
the immediate affective experiences. When spending their own money, young
children are often in a world of pleasure experiencing what Campbell (1987)
calls the spirit of consumerism. The marketing of affective happiness to children
can therefore be extremely profitable; television advertisements aimed at the
youngest children will in general emphasize the bliss and the excitement of the
buyer’s experience. Although parents may enjoy the children’s momentary happi-
ness, they are often critical of the long-term effects of many products. The quest for
the peak moment also creates market fads and fashion dynamics: yesterday’s dolls
do not provide happiness today.
The focus on the pleasures of the present illustrates another parental concern:
consumerism often seems to offer a set of superficial, shallow values, contrary
to the deeper values stressed in a good upbringing. The dilemma of the emotional
pleasures of shopping versus the long-term quest for self-realization is the
critical epicenter of consumerism, also illustrating the possible tension
between well-being as individual hedonism and well-being as the well-being of
all. This conflict of values is becoming accentuated in relation to childhood and
socialization.
48.6.2 The Pleasures of Consumption
The child is an emotional and affective asset, and one of the joys of
parents (and others) is to give the child pleasure (Zelizer 1985). Younger mothers
take greater pleasure in shopping for their children than do older mothers, indicating
that the cohorts that grew up with the pleasure of shopping may transfer this to
their children (Miller 1998). Modern consumerism is an expression of the quest
for experience and adventure (Campbell 1987), and new consumer goods and the
activity of buying them can be an antidote to boredom. Both can be attractive to
the young, especially in certain age phases. However, shopping is not always just a
selfish ego-trip; it can also be an expression of love, care, and relationship. Gifts are
signs of affection; their intention is the well-being of the receiver. The pleasure of
shopping may be even more intense when buying for others (Miller 1998) and vice
versa; receiving gifts and consumer goods might give the child the feeling of being
loved and taken care of. Children’s intense emotional excitement or “bliss” over
a new toy underscores the authentic affection for and the ties to the giver, as well as
the authentic well-being of the child.
The consumer culture emphasizes immediate gratification, and nothing
illustrates this better than shopping, which is often associated with the culture of
young people. This aspect of consumerism represents a quest for the experience of
well-being, and since immediate affective well-being does not last, the act has to
be repeated. The growth of children’s consumer culture has made many things
inexpensive; children’s consumption is filled with many small items adapted to
the culture of immediate gratification, interwoven with the fads and crazes of
the children’s culture. The crazes and the related small items coming and
going in the child culture illustrate the tight relationship between the industry,
media, and child culture. Langer (2004) stresses that for children it is not just
brands that become intimately associated with culture and identity; toys and media
characters also connect children to products through emotional identification.
Disney educates children in the Disney universe, bridging products, brands,
and values. Spin-off products marketed through movies and television are
an enormous industry. For children these objects might not only give affective
pleasure in themselves but also access to their peer culture.
This entertainment consumption fits well with Campbell’s (1987) description of
the new hedonistic consumer as a person consuming experiences. This generates
“being bored” as a theme in everyday life, producing a continual search
for well-being and new experiences. The commercialization of the fads and
crazes of the child culture increases the speed of the turnover of the products and
produces the fads as well as utilizing their existence. The small pleasure items
illustrate how modern child culture is tightly interwoven with commercial markets
and the media.
48.7 Well-Being as Belonging
48.7.1 Well-Being and Social Integration
Modern individuals stage themselves with the help of consumer goods through the
signals sent out by material or immaterial carriers (Veblen 1953; Bourdieu 1984).
Staging is not only about standing out as an individual; to own and to do as other
people of the same age group or social category also make it possible to experience
a common basis of beliefs and ideas. Understood in this way, consumer goods are
used to maintain a common culture and ensure social belonging (Douglas and
Isherwood 1979). Consumer goods also ensure social integration, as when cell
phones are required for communication with peers. Some young children often
do not turn off their phones at night: the cell phone is the precious channel to
well-being – to friends, peers, and social events (Katz and Aakhus 2002).
Studies describe how children become part of communities or groups by
possessing certain products, and parents often express understanding of the fact
that having certain things is necessary or at least desirable (Seiter 1993; Chin 2001;
Pugh 2009). The reasoning behind this parental stance refers to participation:
consumer goods are necessary in order to participate in certain activities, and
certain consumer goods exemplify belonging to specific social groups; symbolic
consumption is an important part of belonging. Douglas and Isherwood (1979)
argue that certain luxury goods are not superfluous; they are social necessities for
the maintenance of networks and social cohesion. Consumption represents entering
and belonging to social and cultural worlds. For children this logic is obvious: toys
or clothes provide cues for either standing out as an individual or fitting in with
peers, as well as cues for social distinction and social class (Ridge 2002; Elliot and
Leonard 2004). Consumerism is not a world of goods and things, but a world of
symbols available on the market. In the multiethnic class society, the world of
goods more than ever becomes a world of distinctions, indicating belonging and
integration, crucial for well-being.
48.7.2 Well-Being as Identity
Pugh (2009) calls consumption in the cultural context of families and children an
“economy of dignity,” illustrating that consumption is embedded in the moral and
symbolic economy of the family. Different symbolic strategies are rooted in the
parents’ place on the socioeconomic ladder. Well-off parents practice something
she calls “symbolic deprivation,” referring to refraining from buying certain costly
or significant consumer goods, which signals moral identity by not consuming
certain visibly expensive goods. Parents at the other end of the social ladder
practice “symbolic indulgence,” buying goods that have the most significant
value in the children’s social world. Consumption represents highly visual indica-
tions not only of style and position but also of care and dignity.
Identities are staged with the help of consumer goods and practices, and brands
have come to function as banners of social identity. Social identity is intensely
related to well-being; Douglas’s (1996) expression “I’d rather be dead than. . .”
illustrates the terrible situation of being assigned a social identity contrary to the
self-image. The consumption of style and fashion among young people is often
understood as an exemplary illustration of this relationship between identity and
consumption.
Style and fashion products vary but their functions are stable; they represent
social well-being by representing social identities. In the last decades, branded
identity products have moved into the markets for younger age groups. Young
children’s understanding of fashion and symbolic status is likely related to simple
cues and brands represent just those kinds of cues. Wearing this special brand is
cool while wearing that one is out – not by taste but by definition. Children learn
brand names and their status as early as age two (Seiter 1993); it is much easier to
identify brands than to acquire taste. Brands are not foreign to children’s social
logic; the use of simple cues for fitting in suits them well. The symbolic positions
among children, and by this their well-being, are increasingly related to the market,
that is, to the interaction between the market and the symbolic language of peer
groups.
Among older children and teens, the relationship between brands, taste, and
position is more complex, and the identity arenas are diversified and partly
constructed by the actors and subcultures. The modern young individual, seeking
to achieve well-being by seeking and signaling uniqueness as well as social position
and belonging, is a perfect match for expanding identity markets.
Mass media targeting children have shortened the period of exclusively parental
influence over their children’s symbolic universe. A distinctive, peer-oriented
consumer culture now intervenes in the relationship between parents and children,
and that intervention begins for many children before they are able to talk.
Modern media are not only channels for the presenting and advertising of “prod-
ucts” but of symbolic worlds and chains of interrelated products. The products
themselves also function as media, drawing children into extensive symbolic
universes based on markets.
48.7.3 Symbols of Well-Being: The Purchase of Moral Signifiers
The commercial products displayed by children represent a visible indication of

parental care and competence in the knowledge society, with its emphasis on
educational products, development, and safety (Dedeoglu 2006). The well-being
of children is translated into the symbolic values of tangible products; the right
products for safety, education, and care indicate the position of the parents. This
position is not only illustrated by what the children wear, use, or carry but also by
what they do not wear or use; the display of cheap products with little or no
educational value indicates lack of parental concern and knowledge. Class-related
upbringing expresses itself through different commercial products, indicating the
well-being of children within different ideologies of socialization. Commercial
products not only show class positions, they put the parents’ position in the
moral economy of different class cultures and contexts on display (Brusdal and
Frønes 2012).
Specific products signify not only economic and cultural capital but are signifiers
of parental efforts to secure their children’s well-being. The fact that specific
products signify this concern creates extremely profitable markets. The expansion
of commercial markets in knowledge societies is partly based in the ideologies
of stimulation and educational support and the corresponding expansion of
educational products; the markets grow through the expansion of moral concern
for children’s well-being.
48.8 The Complex Pattern: Consumption and Well-Being
We have argued that children’s consumption and children’s well-being are closely
and increasingly interwoven. Well-being is understood as a multidimensional phe-
nomenon, as a material standard of living, as health and safety, as development and
opportunity structures, as satisfaction and happiness, and as identity and belonging.
The power of modern markets involves both blessings and curses. If well-being
is related to material standards as such, then lack of well-being will be rooted in
poverty or lack of material resources. Well-being as health and safety is related to
both economic and cultural capital and illustrates that the pleasure of today might
be the curse of tomorrow. Some consumer goods, such as sweets and soft drinks and
junk food, are related to the pleasures of the moment but may produce obesity and
bad health in the near as well as in the distant future.
Resources for development are increasingly available on the market, as illus-
trated by educational products. The growing differentiation into educational and
noneducational products, with preschooling, kindergartens, and edutainment cen-

ters available on the market, illustrates that the commercialization of childhood in
the knowledge society requires both cultural and economic capital to utilize the
available products. The educational parts of the markets are expansive, and the
available products are expensive; from this perspective the challenge related to
children’s well-being is the increasing social inequality that is likely to follow from
the market expansion.
The expanding markets are also understood as a moral and pedagogical challenge;
children are shown as growing up in intensive media streams that emphasize shallow
values and superficial materialism. Small children are especially vulnerable to market
pressure, and they are also easy targets as a channel into the family purse. From this
perspective protection from the market is an essential part of children’s well-being.
Some products, like educational products, seek to secure the future; others focus
on the pleasure of the moment. The market accentuates the dilemma between
indulging in the pleasures of the present and investment in the future, illustrating
both children’s need for protection from market forces and the need for parental
monitoring and guidance. Studies indicate that the style of consumption among
children varies with the economic and cultural capital of the parents; high total
capital indicates increased focus on the future. From this perspective the markets
underscore the need for active parenting.
The markets provide the visible cues for belonging to groups or communities,
as well as for personal identity. The term symbolic deprivation illustrates the
power of the market related to belonging as well as to the construction of identity.
In this regard the critical resources are the economic as well as the relevant cultural
capitals.
Increased material wealth is not necessarily followed by increased happiness
(Easterlin 1974). This can be based in the dynamics of reference groups – increased
wealth entails new reference groups related to lifestyles, and in the hierarchy of
needs – fulfilling needs at the lower level leads to higher levels that must be
satisfied. The complexity of self-realization illustrates the multidimensional char-
acter of the market; it may provide tools for social and personal development and
experiences, or it may draw the consumer into the shallowness often associated with
modern mass production. Increased commercialization transforms even antimarket
attitudes into exclusive submarkets of symbolic products (Brusdal and Frønes 2012).
Market forces permeate the core of the socialization process, the shaping of
individuals and their cultures. Related to the well-being of children, the political
challenge is not primarily protection – there is no place to hide from the forces of
the markets – but the development of the children’s capacity for critical reflection.
From a purely economic perspective, markets are the most efficient way to produce
and distribute goods. The power of markets, especially related to children’s well-
being, is entangled with social and cultural processes. Understanding the relation-
ship between well-being and consumption has to be related to the multidimensional
social, cultural, and developmental effects of a highly differentiated set of markets
and products, distributing positive and negative consequences for children’s
well-being in complex ways.
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Children’s Material Living Standards in
Rich Countries 49
Gill Main and Kirsten Besemer
49.1 Introduction
Children’s material living conditions refer to the physical resources children have
access to. This can be in terms of physical possessions such as adequate clothing
and food or financial or social resources enabling participation such as enough
money to gain an adequate education and to participate in social activities. Lacking
adequate physical resources, whether in terms of resources needed for survival or
for meeting social norms in the society in which children live, is associated with
a range of negative outcomes. Material deprivation is increasingly acknowledged as
important in academic and policy fields as a direct measure of poverty for both
adults and children. Studies of different measures of poverty reveal that income
poverty and material deprivation are overlapping but not identical. Studying child
material deprivation can therefore provide a fuller picture of child poverty than
studying income poverty alone. Historically, the development of child-specific
indicators of material living conditions has grown out of a household-focused
and adult-derived interest in the topic. However, developments in the study
of childhood and in policies relating to children have increasingly led to more
child-focused measures. Two important issues are how to investigate the material
living conditions of children in a way that acknowledges them as individuals, while
reflecting their position as deeply entwined with families, and how to incorporate
concerns with both child well-being and well-becoming, particularly at times when
the two may conflict. The aim of this chapter is to provide an introduction to the
G. Main (*)
Department of Social Policy and Social Work, The University of York, York,
North Yorkshire, UK
K. Besemer
Institute of Housing, Urban and Real Estate Research, Heriot Watt University,
Edinburgh, Scotland

1446 G. Main and K. Besemer
concept of children’s material conditions, draw attention to the effects of material

deprivation, and highlight some key debates in the field. We will also provide some
ideas for future directions at the end of the chapter.
49.2 What Are Material Living Standards?
49.2.1 Direct and Indirect Poverty Measures
Studying children’s material living standards, and at one end of this spectrum
studying child material deprivation (i.e., studying children whose material living
standards are unacceptably low), is one approach to studying child poverty.
Traditionally, poverty has often been conceived very narrowly, and many people
tend to think of individuals or families with no or low income. However, in recent
years, the academic study of poverty and, to a lesser extent, policy approaches to
poverty have begun to incorporate wider measures in response to the limitations of
income as an indicator of poverty (e.g., the UK government has included combined
income poverty and material deprivation measures in official statistics – see Adams
et al. (2012)). The main advantage of income, as noted by Laderchi et al. (2003), is
that it is easy to understand and theoretically easy to measure (although in practice
measuring people’s incomes can be a very complicated matter – Meyer and Sullivan
(2003) outline some of the difficulties in a US context). Additionally, income offers
insight into the monetary resources that are available to families or individuals.
However, an income-only approach to poverty has many limitations. Firstly,
income does not account for nonmonetary resources that families or individuals
might have at their disposal (Short 2005). For example, someone who has inherited
a great deal of land or property may have a low income, but at the same time may not
need to spend much money on their day-to-day needs. Secondly, deciding what to
include in someone’s income is deceptively problematic (Hallerod 1995); if some-
one regularly receives gifts of money, goods, or services in addition to any paid
work, deciding whether and how to include these in calculations of income is very
complicated. Thirdly, the same income can result in very different living standards
depending on several factors (Ebert 1996). For example, three people living together
in a house may have three times the income of an individual living alone, but are
unlikely to have three times the expenses on housing costs; similarly, someone living
in a rural area may have to spend much more money on transport to achieve a similar
lifestyle to someone living in an urban environment. Fourthly, changes in income do
not always happen concurrently with changes in living standards (Berthoud et al.
(2004) discuss the relationship between income poverty and deprivation in the UK
using both cross-sectional and longitudinal analysis; Gordon (2006)). Families who
face a sudden loss of income may maintain high living standards for some time as
a result of savings and goods purchased before the change. Conversely, families with
low material living standards may not be able to address this completely and
immediately on achieving an increase in income – it may take time to service
debts and gradually accumulate the goods necessary for a decent standard of living.
49 Children’s Material Living Standards in Rich Countries 1447
Fifthly, as will be discussed in more detail below, children live in increasingly

diverse family types, with some children living in multiple households and family
structures; so, for example, children may live with both parents in one household,
but are increasingly likely to live with parents across multiple households in lone
parent or stepfamily structures (Beier et al. 2010). In this context, the use of income
in one of the child’s households oversimplifies the realities of the child’s life – the
households they live in may vary in terms of experiences of and extent of income
poverty and the child may bring resources from one household into another. For
example, a child may bring clothes between the two households of which they are
a member, when these have been purchased exclusively as part of the spending of
one household. Finally, the use of low income as a definition of poverty risks the
conflation of definition and measure – if poverty is measured by income, also using
low income as the definition of poverty results in a high degree of circularity and
risks, losing the deeper motivation for studying poverty. That is, defining poverty as
low income and measuring poverty according to whether people have low income
breaks with the idea that poverty refers to an unacceptable deficit in living standards
(Saunders 2005; an example of this in UK policy can be found in The Cabinet Office
(2010) – relative income poverty is defined as living in a household with an income
below 60 % of the national median). An exclusive focus on income as a measure of
poverty has given rise to criticisms around whether the focus of poverty research is
on poverty per se or on inequality (Alcock 2006) – arguably a different (but not
necessarily less important) issue.
The use of income as a measure of child (rather than household) poverty presents
a number of additional problems. In practice, income is often calculated at the level
of the household or family – that is, the incomes of adults living within a household
are added together to arrive at an aggregate figure for household income. Children
are very unlikely to have substantial personal incomes and are overwhelmingly
likely to be financially dependent on parents or carers; measuring household income
is therefore by its nature an indirect method of assessing child poverty. Statistical
research typically deals with this problem by disaggregating household income
based on the assumption that spending is shared equitably between different mem-
bers of a household (a process called equivalization). In practice, this means that
a formula is used to approximate what proportion of the household income is likely
to be allocated to each member of the household. How true the assumptions behind
such formulae are to real intra-household distributions remains open to a great deal
of question (e.g., Pahl (1989, 2000a, b, 2005) has conducted a great deal of work
over time challenging the assumption that household resources are equitably divided
between adult men and women). For example, in some households, parents may
prioritize spending on their children to their own detriment, resulting in the children
having good living standards while the parents have poor living standards (Ridge
2002); alternatively, it is possible that some parents prioritize their own needs and
wants over those of their children, resulting in parents having good living standards
while children have poor living standards (Main and Bradshaw 2012).
For the reasons listed above, income is often described as an indirect measure of
child poverty. Ringen (1988) provides a detailed discussion of direct and indirect
approaches to poverty measurement. Income represents an input at the level of the

adult or adults in a family, which may or may not be translated into good living
standards for the child or children. In contrast, material living standards are an
output or outcome of income in combination with other factors. That is, income can
be translated into good living standards, but other factors might mean that children
have good living standards despite a low family income or poor living standards
despite a high family income. Material living standards and material deprivation
particularly, therefore, represent a direct measure of child poverty.
49.2.2 What Is Material Deprivation?
Within the study of poverty, there are many terms which are used frequently but
which lack a single or in some cases a coherent and consistent definition. While we
acknowledge that the definitions and usages of many of the terms used are contested
and complex, we have taken what some experts may view as a simplistic approach in
this chapter in order to convey key ideas to a wide audience. For those interested in
a more detailed discussion of the debates around definitions and conceptualizations of
important issues in the study of poverty, a vast literature is available on the topic.
Throughout this chapter, we will draw on Townsend’s (1979: 31) definition of
material deprivation as an approach to poverty. That is,
Individuals, families and groups in the population can be said to be in poverty when they
lack the resources to obtain the types of diet, participate in the activities and have the living
conditions and amenities which are customary, or at least widely encouraged or approved,
in the societies to which they belong. Their resources are so seriously below those
commanded by the average individual or family that they are, in effect, excluded from
ordinary living patterns, customs and activities
This conception of poverty – as an inability to adhere to basic social norms – has

been hugely influential in poverty studies and policies, particularly within the
developed world (e.g., the European Union Social Protection Committee adopted
a definition of poverty that strongly draws on Townsend’s conception – see
European Commission (2004)). Some important aspects of the definition should
be noted. Implicit in the definition is a concern with living standards that goes
beyond what can be measured using income alone. Access to resources, diets,
activities, and living conditions are not tied to any particular monetary value, but
seen as valuable in their own right. Secondly, the definition is inherently relative,
rather than absolute. Absolute conceptions of poverty are concerned with people’s
basic biological needs, whereas relative conceptions are concerned with
people’s living standards in relation to the time and place in which they are living
(Alcock 2006). While this distinction makes a lot of sense in theory, in practice it is
much harder to implement. Indeed, in adopting his relative definition, Townsend
(1985) questioned the whole basis of an absolute approach to poverty. He argued
that to some extent all approaches are relative in that they are based on common
understandings about physical requirements and social norms prevalent at the time
and in the place where they are developed. One example he gave was Seebohm
Rowntree’s inclusion of tea – a drink that provides no nutritional benefit – in his
basket of goods thought to be basic necessities for families in York at the turn of the
twentieth century (Rowntree 2000 (first published 1901)).
While Townsend’s definition gives a broad overview, it requires a great deal
of work to operationalize it into a functioning measure. Some issues in Townsend’s
definition which require clarification are highlighted by Mack and Lansley
(1985: 29). The following questions are raised:
Lack of which living conditions and amenities constitutes poverty? What types of diet are
we talking about? Lack of participation in which activities distinguishes the poor from the
non-poor? Behind these questions lies a more fundamental question: on what basis should
such decisions be made?
Additionally, they note that clarity is required around what counts as “widely
encouraged and approved,” and whether this is the same as these things being
“customary” – would this mean that 50 % of the population encourage and approve
it, or is a more sweeping majority required? We would add that the definition
makes it unclear whether poverty is conceived as a problem at the level of the
individual, the household, or both. Townsend’s definition refers to both families
and individuals, but it is possible that an individual might live in a family which
commands adequate material resources while they themselves are unable to do so
or vice versa. As Alcock (2006) comments, poverty is experienced at the level of
the individual, but individuals’ fortunes are bound up to a large extent to those of
the families or other groups in which they live. When research is dealing with
poverty at the level of the individual, one of the challenges is in capturing the
subtlety of this position.
Given the focus of this chapter, then, we would define children’s material living
standards as the access children have to resources which they can use, directly or
indirectly, to achieve a lifestyle that is in accordance with the social norms of
people at their life stage living within their society. By using resources directly, we
mean using resources that are themselves outputs or outcomes and are physically
available to the child – so a child who has a pair of shoes can make direct use of that
resource, and a child who has their own bedroom can make direct use of that
resource. Indirect use of resources may involve more complex processes for
children. For example, a child may require new clothes, but given their lack of
personal income, their capacity to obtain these depends on parents or carers having
the resources, ability, and will to provide these for the child. Similarly, a child may
wish to participate in fee-charging event or in an event for which parental consent is
required. A child has only indirect access to these resources as they are dependent
on the continued cooperation and capacity of parents or carers to obtain access to
them. This complication in examining material living standards from the perspec-
tive of children highlights an important facet of most aspects of childhood studies –
that is, that physical resources interact with power relationships in a complex
manner, producing outcomes which may appear counterintuitive when compared
to studies of poverty that rely exclusively on household income.
This section has detailed some of the issues in arriving at an operationalizable

measure of child material deprivation. Some of the solutions that have been used in
poverty studies are given below. But first, we will put material deprivation into
a context of other approaches to poverty and outline its strengths and weaknesses
compared to these approaches.
49.2.3 Conceptualizations of Poverty and Overlaps Between

Approaches
The ability of material deprivation to offer insight into child poverty which goes
beyond that offered by income alone leads on to a consideration of what other
conceptualizations of poverty are available. “Poverty” and “child poverty” are
widely acknowledged as important, but are nevertheless deeply contested concepts.
One continuum along which the concept of poverty is contested regards the breadth
of the condition (Lister 2004). Some approaches consider poverty to be a narrow,
single-dimensional concept, while others view it as broad and multidimensional.
Four examples of approaches, ranging from narrow to broad, are income, material
deprivation, social exclusion, and well-being. These approaches are illustrated
below in Fig. 49.1.
Income poverty, as outlined above, refers to low household income. As discussed
previously, the simplicity of this definition makes it an attractive but also a very
limited measure.
Material deprivation has the advantage over income that it provides a direct
measure of poverty and can be used to capture experiences at the level of the
individual rather than the household. As will be discussed below, it can also be
operationalized in a way which allows for scientific or democratic rather than
expert or arbitrary judgements on what the poor need and on what constitutes
poverty.
Social exclusion is about the social processes and cycles which result in some
people withdrawing from normal cultural practices and participation and becoming
isolated from social norms and unable to benefit from social resources. It is
concerned with the impact of these processes on both excluded individuals and
groups and on wider society (Levitas et al. 2007). It is understood by some as
a conceptualization of poverty and by others as a condition which is separate from,
if often comorbid with, poverty (Lister 2004). Here, it will be discussed as an
approach to poverty – a wide range of literature is available for those wishing to
pursue the issue of whether social exclusion is an approach to poverty or something
different. Social exclusion widens the focus from a concern with access to material
resources and activities to a concern with participation in customary social pro-
cesses and with how the individual and the social interact to create and perpetuate
exclusion and inclusion (for an example, see Colley and Hodkinson (2001)).
To illustrate this, participation in political processes can be used as an example.
A person who cannot afford to travel to a polling station to vote may be considered
materially deprived as a result of this lack of affordability. If the same person could
Fig. 49.1 Different breadths

of conception used in the
study of poverty Income
Material
deprivation
Social exclusion
Well-being
afford the travel but chose not to vote due to feelings of disenchantment with the
national political system, they may be considered socially excluded – they are not
participating in social processes which are important to the society in which they
live – but they would not be considered materially deprived. This illustrates
a further point: different approaches to poverty differ in terms of what they consider
facets of poverty and what they consider causes and effects of poverty (Lister
2004). A lack of a desire to vote may be found to be an effect of poverty when
a material deprivation conception is used, but at the same time may be an important
facet of poverty when the underlying framework for the study is social exclusion.
Well-being is an approach which is broad both in how the term is used and (in
most cases) in what is included within the approach. So while some researchers use
the term “well-being” synonymously with “income poverty” (e.g., Cruces 2005),
others have much broader and more varied interpretations (Axford 2008, discusses
some of the various meanings of child well-being in a UK context). As with social
exclusion, well-being is used in a much wider range of contexts than just in the
study of poverty, and many studies of well-being are conceptually very different
from studies of poverty – a study of children’s well-being may have little to do with
what would traditionally have been considered to be poverty. However, recently,
there has been an increasing focus on well-being as a policy concern incorporating
but not limited to material deprivation (see, e.g., Helliwell (2006); Layard (2003)).
This is partially in response to the Easterlin Paradox – the finding that, beyond
a threshold, increases in income are not related to significant increases in people’s
subjective well-being (Easterlin 1974). In response to this, some governments have
widened their social policy concerns from a focus on low income and material
deprivation to a broader conception of “the good life,” incorporating nonmaterial
resources such as relationships, personality, and an ability to thrive in the face of
adversity (some examples of the kinds of measures being introduced in the UK are
outlined in ONS (2012)). One important well-being focused approach to the study
of poverty is Amartya Sen’s Capabilities Approach, which is concerned with
people’s capacity to live a life which they have reason to value (Sen 1985). This
kind of approach moves conceptions of poverty away from normative frameworks
which are concerned with objective resources and social conventions towards more
subjective frameworks which are concerned with personal preferences, albeit that
preferences are shaped by social structures and so are likely to have high levels of
cultural homogeneity. An important critique that well-being approaches make of
narrower approaches is that they tend to rely on negative indicators – such as the
lack of material goods within the material deprivation approach – rather than the
impacts of these indicators (e.g., Ben-Arieh (2006); Camfield et al. (2008)). So
someone approaching the study of poverty from a well-being perspective may be
concerned not only with what physical resources a person has access to but also
with the creative strategies they find to thrive despite a lack of access to what others
may consider to be necessary resources. That is, the holistic picture of someone’s
environment and their interactions with and roles in shaping that environment are
considered to be far more important than more simplistic considerations of what
people have or do not have.
One way of making sense of these varying approaches to the study of poverty is
to see them as complementary ways of understanding the same underlying problem.
This is not to say that the approaches do not differ significantly in how they
conceptualize poverty, but that all of them are striving to find ways to better
understand the causes, effects, and processes involved in creating human misery
and happiness, with a particular focus on how material resources relate to these
processes. Spicker (2007) discusses how different conceptions of poverty differ and
overlap around a central core. However, since the focus of this chapter is on
material deprivation, some justification for this approach is provided. Reasons for
preferring material deprivation to an income-only approach have been outlined
above. One advantage of material deprivation over broader approaches is that it
allows for an examination of the independent causes and effects of poor material
provision as compared to poor provision in less concrete or simply different areas of
life. Another is that it allows for a more detailed examination of the relationships
between material deprivation and other life experiences such as political participa-
tion. If these are treated as two aspects of the same underlying construct, it is more
difficult to gain insight into exactly how they relate and interact to produce negative
outcomes than if they are measured as separate constructs and then hypotheses about
relationships are tested. Finally, material deprivation succeeds in addressing some
of the most severe shortcomings of an income-only approach, while retaining
a conception of poverty that tallies reasonably well with popular understandings of
the issue (Nolan and Whelan 1996, argue for narrower conceptions of poverty for this
reason). This means that approaches based on or incorporating material deprivation
are likely to be comprehensible to the public and therefore are more likely to gain
political mileage than approaches which may be felt to be more nuanced or obscure.
49.2.4 Distinguishing Poor Children from Poor Families
Another important advantage of material deprivation as an approach that, in the

context of this book, is worthy of a section in its own right is its capacity to offer
insight into children’s material living standards both as deeply entwined with and as
to an extent separable from families. Studying the history of poverty research

reveals a focus on family- or household-level measures. While this has been
criticized to an extent with regard to women’s experiences of poverty as compared
to men’s experiences (among others, see Pahl 1989, 2000a, b, 2005), very little
attention has been paid to date to differentiating between children and adults (White
et al. 2002). There are several reasons why studying children’s material living
standards in a way that allows children to be differentiated from their families is of
growing importance:
Firstly, as noted above, the assumption that children’s material living conditions
can be discerned from studying the incomes of the adults they live with is ques-
tionable. Evidence from the study of gender differences in exposure to and expe-
rience of poverty suggests that women are more vulnerable to poverty than men
(Lister 2004). This is because they are both more likely to live in household types
that are vulnerable to poverty (such as lone parent and single pensioner families –
see Adams et al. (2012) for evidence of this in a UK context) and because they are
less likely to receive an equitable share of household resources as a result of power
relationships which, while shifting over time, continue to an extent to prioritize
men’s wants and needs over those of women (Pahl 2005). This has implications for
how household income is equivalized. Both of these factors – the likelihood of
living in more vulnerable family types and the power relationships – could be
applied to children, meaning that there is reason to pursue the study of intra-
household distributions between adults and children, as well as between adult
men and adult women. This would indicate that measuring children’s living stan-
dards directly is desirable. Given fundamental developmental differences between
adults and children in addition to power imbalances, measures which are applicable
to adults may be less so to children – so to measure child poverty according to
children’s income would be verging on meaningless since all children would be in
poverty. Few people would argue that putting children to work for money would be
a desirable policy recommendation from poverty studies. Material deprivation
provides a method for looking at children’s material living standards in a way
that reflects the realities of children’s lives. That is, children are likely to have
access to goods and services directly, rather than to financial resources enabling
them to purchase goods and services. Equally, goods and services which are
important to children may be available freely but with differential access based
on factors other than income. So, for example, a child in a rural setting may struggle
to access the kinds of youth provision that are available to children in urban
environments, but this will not necessarily be related to differences in the household
incomes of the children.
Secondly, and on a related note, diversification of family types increasingly
challenges the assumption that children live in single family units that occupy
single households and can be represented by single measures of poverty. Children
are increasingly likely to live in a variety of family types across their childhood,
including two-parent families, single-parent families, and stepfamilies (McLanahan
and Percheski 2008). Children living in single-parent or stepfamilies may well live
in multiple households (Lockie 2009), and those households may be of similar or
different structures – so, for example, a child may live in two stepfamily house-
holds, or one stepfamily and one single-parent household. As noted above, the
material resources available to children may differ between households and/or be
carried across households. Despite an acknowledgement of changing family types
in the academic literature, research into children’s experiences of material living
standards when they live across multiple households is lacking. However, it is
reasonable to assume that this suggests that child poverty requires several types of
measure to account for the complexity. Children’s households are undoubtedly an
important factor in their well-being as many resources are shared between house-
hold members. An accurate picture of a child’s living standards will need to reflect
household conditions in all of the houses within which a child lives, as well as the
resources children carry between households. Therefore, separate measures of
household material deprivation and child material deprivation are useful in gaining
a fuller picture of children’s living standards.
Children’s fortunes, then, are interwoven with the fortunes of their families, but
are also not represented exclusively and accurately by those of their families.
Additionally, “children” do not form a homogenous group. Children will vary in
their experiences of material deprivation according to a range of demographic
factors (Bradshaw 2011b, provides details of the many demographic factors which
influence the odds of children experiencing poverty in the UK) and will vary in how
they interpret and are impacted by these experiences across an even broader spec-
trum of demographic and individual factors (Ridge 2002, discusses many of the
ways in which children in her study differed in their responses to poverty). In light of
these variations between children, and potentially even within the different experi-
ences of an individual child, it becomes increasingly inappropriate to assume that
one or even both parents can accurately report on their child’s experiences of
material living standards – these will be influenced by factors both within families
and external to family environments. In their analysis of a set of questions relating to
poverty and material deprivation, Bradshaw and Main (2010) found fairly strong
agreement between parent–child pairs overall, but lower agreement where some
subjective judgements – around whether children wanted items they lacked or how
well-off they felt their family was – were involved. This lends credibility to the
position adopted within the New Sociology of Childhood and the Child Indicators
Movement, which exhort researchers and policy makers where possible to consult
with children directly as well as through the proxies of parents about issues that
impact on their lives (Ben-Arieh 2005). If research agendas are to offer a more
complete picture of children’s lives, children themselves must play a part in shaping
these agendas. The study of children’s living standards, then, can contribute to this
by examining children’s positions both within families and as individuals in their
own right and by consulting with children as well as with parents not only about
what resources children have but also about what they need to avoid poverty. Since
children are unlikely to be able to provide an accurate picture of factors such as the
proportion of household income spent on them, and since they may disagree with
parents or offer complementary views to parents about what their material needs
are (Bradshaw and Main 2010; Main and Bradshaw 2012), material deprivation
Non-poor families Poor families
Non-poor children Poor children
Fig. 49.2 How income-based poverty measures position children
provides a means of gaining insight into child poverty in a way that children can
understand and report on and in a way that has the potential to derive from children’s
own perceptions of their needs, as well as or in contrast to parental perceptions of
children’s needs.
To illustrate the role of material deprivation in differentiating children’s expe-
rience of poverty from those of their families while continuing to acknowledge the
importance of family context, Fig. 49.2 shows the assumption behind income-only
measures of child poverty. Implicit in the use of income-based measures is the
assumption that child poverty is fully and accurately proxied by a low family
income. Poor children are assumed to reside exclusively within poor families,
while nonpoor children are exclusively within nonpoor families.
Figure 49.3, contrastingly, shows the different classifications available to chil-
dren when more individualized measures such as material deprivation are used.
Children can be in any one of four groups by this model – poor children can live
within either poor or nonpoor families, and nonpoor children can live within either
poor or nonpoor families. The purpose of this is not to suggest that poverty at the level
of the child is more important or more “accurate” than poverty at the level of the
family. Rather, the point is that child poverty may be experienced in two distinct
(if often comorbid and related) ways – at the level of the family where the family or
household as a group lacks adequate resources, and/or at the level of the child, where
the child as an individual lacks adequate resources. This is illustrated in Fig. 49.3.
As will be detailed below, many current measures of children’s material living
standards draw on child-centric measures as well as household- or family-level
measures. That is, these measures focus on children rather than on families or
households, and can be used in conjunction with family-level or household-level
measures to obtain a fuller picture of children’s living standards. Less work,
however, has been done on creating child-derived measures – that is, measures
which are developed based on consultation with children, rather than with parents,
Poor children
Non-poor Poor families

families
Non-poor
children
Fig. 49.3 How material deprivation based poverty measures can position children
about children’s material needs. Some early research into developing a measure
that is not only child-centric but also child-derived will be discussed in the last
section of this chapter.
49.2.5 Issues in the Measurement of Material Deprivation
An important issue in the study of material deprivation is that of measurement. As

discussed earlier, there are many reasons why material deprivation provides a more
nuanced and direct measure of child poverty than income does. However, as with
all approaches to poverty measurement, difficult decisions have to be made in the
process of moving from material deprivation as a theoretical conceptualization of
poverty to material deprivation as an operationalized measure of poverty. Some of
the issues involved in this process are outlined below.
One issue in the measurement of material deprivation is around precisely what to
measure. Simple use of phrases like “material resources” disguises an incredibly
wide-ranging and contestable concept. Some things that can be measured fall
clearly into the category of material resources. An example of this might be whether
a child has a particular item of clothing or a bed. However, other things may be
more on the boundaries of material resources. So, for example, in an overcrowded
house where the presence of many siblings results in a child struggling to find the
peace and quiet needed to focus on school work, would the deprivation of this quiet
space constitute a material deprivation or deprivation in a different domain? Others
are probably outside of the boundaries of what would be considered material
deprivation but clearly have links to material deprivation. An example of this
would be if parents put themselves under a great deal of stress in order to provide
materially for children, but as a result parent–child relationships are negatively
impacted. Strained relationships between children and parents are of key relevance
to children’s well-being, as is material deprivation (research with children in the

UK revealed family relationships to be one of the most important contributors to
child well-being (Rees et al. 2012)). Parents attempting to protect their children
from one negative impact of poverty in a way which exposes their children to
another is an example of why many different conceptions of poverty can be used to
illustrate the interactional and dynamic processes involved. Material deprivation is
an important aspect of this, but should certainly not be considered to be the only
aspect of poverty, and the measurement of material deprivation should be used in
a context which allows for an examination of the nonfinancial and nonmaterial costs
as well as the benefits of material provision.
In terms of what specific items to include in measures of material deprivation,
several approaches have been tried. Firstly, there is expert opinion, where
academics or other experts come to decisions around what constitutes a necessity.
This approach was taken in many of the early studies of material deprivation,
including Rowntree (2000 (first published 1901)) and some of the work of
Townsend (1979). Secondly, behaviorally focused measures are based on observa-
tions of spending patterns and resources owned by the population, which are then
used to discern what people treat as necessities – those items which are owned by
a significant majority of the population are seen as necessities. This was described
by Townsend (1987) as objective poverty – the lack of things that are customary in
society. Finally, there are democratic or consensual measures, where people are
asked whether they consider items to be necessities, and those considered necessary
by 50 % or more of the population of interest are included, irrespective of the
proportion of the population actually owning the items (this method was pioneered
by Mack and Lansley (1985)).
In the study of child material deprivation specifically, there is an added compli-
cation around whose views of necessities are considered. The vast majority of
studies to date have asked adults’ opinions about children’s necessities (see Mack
and Lansley (1985), Pantazis et al. (2006)). However, with a research and policy
agenda that is increasingly acknowledging children’s capacities to provide infor-
mation on their own lives (Ben-Arieh 2005) and a responsibility to consult with
children about issues affecting them (as conferred by the United Nations Conven-
tion on the Rights of the Child (UNCRC)), the use of parents or adults to determine
children’s needs without reference to the opinions of children themselves is called
into question. This is particularly relevant to the use of democratic or consensual
measures – since the measurement of poverty using these measures is intended to
make sense to the population of interest, the conclusions that can be drawn about
child poverty based on adult perceptions of children’s needs are somewhat limited
(although by no means without value). A further point to note is that no list of
material deprivation items is likely to incorporate every single item or activity
which is necessary – given the constraints of research instruments such as surveys,
where every additional question represents a cost, it is likely that an abridged rather
than a complete list of items will be used. These lists, then, must be seen as
indicators of child material deprivation, rather than direct and complete measures
in their own right.
Arriving at a suitable list of material deprivation indicators, then, is a complex

and potentially labor-intensive process. This results in a temptation to draw on
previous indicators or to use indicators that have already been successfully devel-
oped in other contexts (so. e.g., the list of indicators in the European Study of
Income and Living Conditions (EU-SILC) draws on research that was based in the
UK context). When this is done carefully, it is a valuable and resource-saving
approach. However, it must be done with a great deal of caution. As is suggested by
Townsend’s (1979) definition of material deprivation, the specific things that
constitute necessities are highly contingent on time and place. A lifestyle that is
considered “rich” by someone growing up in the 1950s may be considered “poor”
by someone growing up in the twenty-first century. Similarly, a lifestyle that is
considered “rich” in a developing country may be considered “poor” in a developed
country. In addition, the relevance of some items and activities will change with
time (Saunders (2004) discusses this in terms of standards in acceptable housing
varying over time and place). So while owning a landline telephone will have been
considered in many countries to be a necessity until recently, the development of
increasingly functional and affordable mobile phones may result in people no
longer seeing landlines as a necessity because the assumption may exist that people
will definitely have access to a mobile phone (and therefore not need a landline in
addition to this). Other items, such as personal computers, have rapidly become part
of what is considered to be a “normal life” as well as increasingly being
a requirement for school work and social participation and may need to be included
in future lists of essentials. In a context of rapid technological change and devel-
opment, this is of particular importance – specific items may be less relevant to
people’s conceptions of material deprivation than the function that is served by
those items and whether this function can be served by other similar items that
might not have been considered in previous research. It is important, then, to ensure
that lists of items and activities are appropriate to the time in which research is
being conducted; are appropriate to the geographical location in which research is
being conducted; and that enough background work is done on the development of
indicators that the meanings and functions of deprivation items, rather than just the
items themselves, are considered in the construction of measures of material
deprivation. This issue is illustrated and explored further below with reference to
the items used in measuring material deprivation across the European Union.
Once material deprivation indicators have been selected, there are further deci-
sions to be made. A key debate in the study of material deprivation is whether and
how to take personal preferences into account (McKay 2004). Earlier studies of
material deprivation which drew on expert judgements as to what was necessary
tended to ignore personal preferences – respondents were asked simply whether
they owned or did not own items (or whether they did or did not participate in
activities), without any reference to the reason for non-ownership or nonparti-
cipation (Rowntree 2000 (first published 1901); Townsend 1987). Later,
researchers have questioned the validity of this, suggesting that it is inappropriate
to treat someone as if they are deprived of something which they have no desire to
have or participate in (Donnison 1988). To give an example, a common material
deprivation item is having meat or fish at least once a day. It might reasonably be
assumed that a vegetarian would not want to have this and would not feel
themselves deprived by the lack of it. A solution to this is to introduce three response
categories to material deprivation items – have this, lack it and want it, and lack it and
do not want it (first introduced by Mack and Lansley 1985). Only those who lack and
want items are considered deprived of them. However, others suggest that this
approach oversimplifies the issue. There are two possible rationales for people lacking
items and saying they don’t want them being treated as deprived. Firstly, if someone
has always been poor and has never had access to the item or activity, they may not
realize what they are missing and so mistakenly claim to not want it when in fact with
additional information they would want it (Mack and Lansley 1985). Secondly is
the idea of adaptive preferences – that people who cannot afford or otherwise
obtain access to items or activities will say that they do not want them to avoid the
pain associated with wanting something that is unlikely ever to be achieved
(Hallerod 2006). So someone who has never been able to have access to an item
might deny wanting it because this is less painful than admitting to wanting it and
facing the knowledge that they will not be able to realize their desires.
A related issue which further complicates the treatment of adaptive preferences
is where proxies are used. As noted above, most studies of child material depriva-
tion have drawn on adult perceptions of what children need, rather than on consul-
tations with children themselves. Similarly, most studies have asked adults to
respond to questions about whether children have, lack and want, or lack and do
not want items. Leaving aside the issue of whether children should be included in
determining deprivation items, the use of parents as respondents to child items
introduces two possible sources of error. Firstly, in a situation where complex
family structures are increasingly common and where children are capable of
some degree of independence, parents may simply not be aware of whether children
have access to certain activities and resources (support for this is found in the
analysis completed by Bradshaw and Main 2010, reported earlier). For example,
a child may have a particular item of clothing or toy in one household which they
are a member of, and may therefore feel that they have the item, without a parent
residing in a different household that the child is a member of being aware of this.
Secondly, parents may not be aware of, and even if they are aware may not be able
or willing to accurately represent, whether children want items and activities that
they lack. Some qualitative research findings suggest that children make efforts to
protect parents from a full knowledge of the impacts of poverty on their lives (Ridge
2002), which may mean that children tell parents they do not want items which they
do, in fact, want. Additionally, Chzhen (2012) notes that parents are susceptible to
social desirability biases in their responses to material deprivation questions. That
is, parents may misrepresent whether their children have items and activities and, if
the items or activities are lacked, may claim that their children do not want them
rather than admit that they are unable or unwilling to provide for their children.
However, long traditions of using adults rather than children as respondents are
difficult to break, and in some cases – particularly in the case of very young
children – it may simply not be possible to ascertain the “true” responses of children
themselves. Using adults may be considered more efficient and reliable. Whether
adult proxies are used in studies of child material deprivation is therefore an issue
that should be considered in terms of the specific research purpose and questions.
Adults can report on whether they want items for their children, but their responses
as to whether their children want items that are lacked should be treated with more
caution.
A final issue in the use of material deprivation as a measure of poverty is
concerned with the policy relevance of such measures. In terms of the practical
use of material deprivation as a measure of poverty, Bradshaw (2011a) notes that
indices of material deprivation, while invaluable for academic research and for
illustrating the type of problem poverty is in our society, are not adequate as policy
tools. Governments are unlikely in the extreme to either begin dictating how parents
or carers should spend their money on children or to start providing children
directly with packages of items deemed to be necessary. One way to begin
addressing this is through minimum income standards – assessing the amount of
money needed to avoid material deprivation and setting benefits rates in accordance
with this (Bradshaw et al. 2008). But this approach is not without its shortcomings –
as noted previously, providing parents or carers with income that should enable
them to provide for their children by no means ensures that they will or even can do
so. Individual preferences and circumstances will always mediate the relationship
between income and material provision.
49.3 Why Study Children’s Material Living Standards?
49.3.1 Child Poverty and Social Policy
Child poverty has long been a concern of social policies, and its position as a central
issue for policy intervention is clear both within the UK (DWP 2011) and across the
European Union (Council of the European Union 2012), as well as more widely
(World Bank 2012). Across the European Union in particular, efforts are increas-
ingly being made to measure not only childhood income poverty but also the
prevalence of child material deprivation. Material deprivation in childhood has
serious consequences for individual well-being in both the short term and the long
term. In line with an overall tendency to see spending on child well-being as a long-
term investment in the future, policies relating to child material deprivation are
often justified through expected improvements in long-term outcomes, both at an
individual and a societal level. For example, the cost-effectiveness of policies
targeting material deprivation in childhood may be justified through the risk of
affected children otherwise becoming net burdens to, rather than contributors to,
their societies. The UNICEF publication below, while acknowledging the impact of
child poverty on children, mostly focuses on the cost to society:
The heaviest cost of all is borne by the children themselves. But their nations must also pay
a very significant price – in reduced skills and productivity, in lower levels of health and
educational achievement, in increased likelihood of unemployment and welfare depen-

dence, in the higher costs of judicial and social protection systems, and in the loss of social
cohesion. (Adamson 2012: 1)
The society-wide costs of child poverty, such as future adult unemployment,

health problems, and welfare dependence, are often used as a justification for
spending on child poverty-related policy measures. For example, the UK govern-
ment’s child poverty strategy is largely based on improving the life chances of
children, rather than improving their current lives, health or well-being:
[The child poverty strategy] focuses on improving the life chances of the most disadvan-
taged children, and sits alongside the Government’s broader strategy to improve social
mobility. (Department for Education 2011)
Such a narrow perspective focused on long-term outcome risks

underemphasizing the immediate physical, psychological, and social effects of
poor childhood experiences. Such experiences matter not only because of their
long-term effects on society but also because children make up a large share of the
population. The European Union Recommendation on Child Poverty in 2012 urges
member states to treat poverty as a policy priority in its own right, rather than as
a means towards broader societal goals:
[T]he percentage of children living in poverty or social exclusion is on the rise in a number
of Member States as a result of the impact of the economic crisis. Tackling and preventing
child poverty as well as promoting child well-being is essential in its own right. The Rights
of the Child are enshrined in the Treaty on European Union, in the Charter of Fundamental
Rights and in the UN Convention on the Rights of the Child (Council for the European
Union 2012: 2)
While the document also points out the long-term social consequences of child
poverty for Europe, in terms of the transmission of poverty across generations as
well as the long-term consequences for educational attainment, health, employ-
ment, and social exclusion, it is significant that the primary focus is on the well-
being of children themselves.
For the purposes of this section, it is therefore useful to differentiate between the
immediate impacts of material deprivation in terms of child well-being and the
long-term effects on child well-becoming. The first group of outcomes, relating to
child well-being, can be conventionally measured in cross-sectional or fairly time-
limited longitudinal surveys and studied through relatively short-term qualitative
research projects. The second group of outcomes, referred to here as child well-
becoming, typically requires a more longitudinal approach in order to better capture
the relationships between childhood deprivation and subsequent impacts on adult
life. Alternatively, some surveys have used retrospective questions about experi-
ences of childhood material deprivation to better understand its impact on individ-
uals throughout their lives.
This section will provide some data on current levels of child material depriva-
tion, although readers should bear in mind that such statistics can date very quickly.
We will then go on to discuss impacts of material deprivation on children’s
well-being and well-becoming. Material deprivation can impact on almost every
aspect of a child’s life. While a comprehensive coverage of all the associations is

not possible here, we attempt to provide an overview of some of the impacts
on some important areas of children’s lives. The depth and range of these
impacts provide a convincing argument for the value in studying child material
deprivation.
49.3.2 The State of Play
Measures of children’s material living standards (with a focus on material depri-

vation) are now included in several national and international surveys, allowing for
comparisons between children within countries and between countries overall. Data
from two sources are presented here to offer some insight into the scale of the
problem of child material deprivation at the time of writing. Within the UK, the
Family Resources Survey (FRS) collects data on children’s ownership of several
items deemed by adults to be socially perceived necessities – that is, things which
adults in the UK feel that children should not have to go without due to affordabil-
ity. This data is then used to create the Households Below Average Income (HBAI)
series – datasets and reports which are used to inform academic and policy
information on poverty rates (see Adams et al. 2012, for the latest release). On an
international scale, the EU-SILC collects data on child material deprivation from
countries from across the EU to inform policy.
Table 49.1 shows the items included in the UK FRS, along with details of the
proportion of children lacking them. Data are taken from the 2010 to 2011 wave of
the HBAI dataset, derived from the FRS.
Table 49.2 shows similar figures taken from a children’s material deprivation
module that was included in EU-SILC in 2009. These items are not yet included on
an annual basis, so more recent figures are not available. Data are given overall and
for six countries – two which have comparatively low deprivation rates (Iceland and
Norway), two with rates towards the middle of the distribution (Italy and Estonia),
and two with high deprivation rates (Bulgaria and Romania). It is interesting to note
the prevalence of income poverty (measured by the proportion of children living in
households with an income lower than 50 % of the national median) in these
countries for comparative purposes. Iceland and Norway remain among the better
performing countries on both measures, with income poverty rates of 4.7 % and
6.1 %, and rankings of 1st and 5th (out of 35 countries), respectively. Similarly,
Bulgaria and Romania remain towards the bottom of the range, with income
poverty rates of 17.8 % and 25.5 %, and rankings of 32nd and 35th, respectively.
However, while Estonia remains somewhere in the middle of the table, with an
income poverty rate of 12.1 % and a ranking of 21st, Italy drops to near the bottom
of the table, with an income poverty rate of 15.9 % and a ranking of 29th. This
demonstrates that while income and material deprivation are related, they measure
somewhat different aspects of poverty. Details on deprivation rates and on specific
items for all EU countries can be found in de Neubourg et al. (2012). It should
be noted that the analysis presented here was based on a scale made up of only
Table 49.1 Child material deprivation items in the UK

Deprivation item % lacking
Enough bedrooms for every child 10 years or over and of a different gender 14
Celebrations on special occasions 3
Leisure equipment such as sports equipment or a bicycle 6
Hobby or leisure activity 6
Swimming at least once a month 11
Outdoor space/facilities to play safely 9
Having friends round for tea or a snack once a fortnight 7
Have a warm winter coat 2
At least 1 week’s holiday away from home with family 36
Go on school trips at least once a term (school-age children) 5
OR Go to playgroup at least once a week (preschool children) 5
Attend organized activity once a week 9
Eat fresh fruit and/or vegetables every day 4
Source: Adams et al. (2012)
child-specific items. An alternative approach which incorporates both child and

household items into a measure of child material deprivation can be found in
Guio et al. (2012).
In both the UK and the EU contexts, these items are then used to create an
index of material deprivation. As with creating measures, the processes involved
in using these measures to form a scale are complex and rely on theoretical and
statistical judgements. Two important areas within which decisions have to be
made are as follows. Firstly, decisions must be made around which items to
include – it may be that using a subset of the questions asked forms a better
measure than using all the questions asked (one approach to item selection is
outlined in Guio et al. (2012)). Secondly, it must be decided how to combine the
items to form a scale of material deprivation – two options include a simple count
of the number of items lacked or prevalence weighting which involves according
different items different weights based on the proportion of the population
lacking them (information on this can be found in Saunders and Naidoo (2009).
Willitts (2006) provides an example of the use of prevalence weighting, and
Hallerod et al. (1997) demonstrate that different kinds of weighting perform very
similarly, and very similarly to using unweighted indices). These processes will
not be outlined in-depth here – interested readers will be able to pursue relevant
resources. However, it is through the creation of deprivation indices, rather than
the items which are used to construct these, that deprivation rates for countries
and for groups of children within countries are calculated, and so deprivation
rates based on data from these two surveys will be reported and some details will
be given about how scores are calculated.
For the UK data, a prevalence weighting system is used which results in
deprivation items being given a greater weight if they are owned by a larger
proportion of society (see Adams et al. (2012)). The rationale for this is that
Table 49.2 Child material deprivation items and rates in some EU countries
Item Overall Iceland Norway Italy Estonia Bulgaria Romania
Fresh fruit and vegetables once 4.2 0.5 0.7 2.5 9.8 35.1 24.2
a day
Three meals a day 0.9 0.3 0.0 1.2 0.5 7.4 4.0
One meal with meat, chicken, or 4.5 0.6 1.1 4.4 5.8 31.0 29.2
fish (or vegetarian equivalent) at
least once a day
Some new (not secondhand) 5.6 1.3 0.4 6.2 5.1 35.1 25.4
clothes
Two pairs of properly fitting 4.3 0.5 0.5 2.6 4.1 43.5 19.0
shoes (including a pair of all-
weather shoes)
An Internet connection at home 7.6 0.4 0.7 5.0 4.4 24.7 32.9
Books at home suitable for their 4.6 0.1 0.3 6.0 3.6 26.7 32.9
age
Suitable place to study or do 5.1 0.2 2.0 9.3 3.1 16.6 21.7
homework
Festivity on special occasions 5.4 0.0 0.1 6.1 4.0 26.1 34.2
(birthdays, name days, religious
events, etc.)
Invite friends around to play and 6.1 0.0 0.2 6.7 4.3 44.0 37.0
eat from time to time
Participate in school trips and 6.3 0.5 0.7 6.1 3.9 33.1 48.2
school events that cost money
Outdoor leisure equipment 6.0 0.1 0.1 4.0 6.3 44.7 57.8
(bicycle, roller skates, etc.)
Regular leisure activity 11.1 1.1 1.9 12.2 5.5 47.7 64.4
(swimming, playing an
instrument, youth organization,
etc.)
Indoor games (educational baby 4.8 0.0 0.4 4.6 2.2 34.0 52.7
toys, building blocks, board
games, etc.)
Source: de Neubourg et al. (2012)
children will suffer more for lacking items which are more widespread – that is,
children lacking things which 99 % of their peers have will be more severely
impacted than children lacking things which 60 % of their peers have. Each item
is therefore given a unique “score,” and the scores for each item a child lacks are
summed to produce an overall deprivation score. A cutoff point is then decided
beyond which children will be deemed to be materially deprived. The advantage of
creating a deprivation score is that it takes into account the different status of
different material deprivation items. The drawbacks are that it results in a rather
complex and unintuitive system (which, Hallerod et al. (1997) found, makes little
difference to the outcome). Using this system means that it is not as straightforward
as saying that children are deprived if they lack, for example, two of the items
Table 49.3 UK deprivation rates by demographic factors

Demographic variable % children deprived
Overall deprivation rate 26.0
Number of children in the family 1 24.7
2 20.6
3+ 37.3
Tenure type Owners (outright or with mortgage) 10.7
Renters 51.3
Ethnicity White 24.3
Mixed 23.7
Asian 30.8
Black 46.0
Other 24.5
Work status Some paid work 16.9
No paid work 70.9
Family structure Couple with children 18.7
Lone parent with children 50.0
Source: Author’s own analysis of HBAI data from 2010 to 2011, accessed from the UK data
archive at http://data-archive.ac.uk/
included in a measure. Instead, formulae are used to ensure that final scores range
between 0 and 100, with children scoring over 25 being classed as materially
deprived. It should be noted that in UK policy measures, material deprivation
alone is not considered an indicator of poverty – it is used in conjunction with
various low income measures. Therefore, figures given here should not be
interpreted as official policy estimates of the number of children in poverty by
UK definitions.
Based on FRS/HBAI deprivation data, 26.0 % of children in the UK are
materially deprived (irrespective of income poverty). This compares to 17.5 %
who are in income poverty (defined in the UK as living in a household with an
income lower than 60 % of the median – a somewhat different definition to that
used in the EU-SILC dataset above). However, rates vary wildly depending on
demographic factors. Children living in families where there are three or more
children are more likely to be deprived than those living in families with fewer
children. Those living in rented accommodation, in families with no paid work, and
in lone parent families are much more likely to be deprived than others. And
children from Asian or black ethnic groups are more likely to be deprived than
white, mixed ethnicity, or other groups. Some basic deprivation rates are shown in
Table 49.3.
Analysis of the EU-SILC data, conversely, uses a simple count of items lacked
to produce a deprivation scale. The disadvantage of this compared to prevalence
weighting is that it does not account for the theory that children lacking more
prevalent items may be more strongly impacted by those lacking less prevalent
items. However, it does result in a more simple index of deprivation and more
Table 49.4 Deprivation rates across some EU countries

Country Deprivation rate
Iceland 0.0 %
Norway 1.9 %
Italy 13.3 %
Estonia 8.1 %
Bulgaria 56.6 %
Romania 72.6 %
Source: de Neubourg et al. (2012)
intuitive and accessible thresholds – so children can be said to be deprived if they

lack a certain number of items, rather using a more obscure (if more nuanced)
system.
In their analysis of EU-SILC, de Neubourg et al. (2012) selected a threshold of
lacking two or more items on the basis that this avoided inappropriately classing
non-deprived children as deprived (given that the number of items lacked was on
average much higher than this for some of the poorer countries), but also did not
exclude the possibility of children in richer countries being classed as deprived
simply because of their residence in richer countries (in some countries very few
children lacked any of the items, which is not the same as saying that there was no
material deprivation – just that the items used may not be the best discriminators in
these countries). More discussion of the issues of using similar deprivation items
across varied national contexts can be found in the final section of this chapter. As
above, an overall deprivation rate across the countries included of 13.3 % masks
strong variation between different countries. Deprivation rates are shown in
Table 49.4. Based on this, even this threshold of lacking two or more items reveals
striking differences between countries, with virtually no deprived children in
Iceland compared to almost three quarters of all children being deprived in Roma-
nia. While this highlights important issues about inequality between countries, it
also poses a challenge for cross-country comparisons. Given the relative definition
of material deprivation we are using, it is debatable whether children lacking two or
more items in Romania should be considered deprived, when the majority of their
peers are in the same position. Similarly, it is unlikely that there are genuinely no
children in Iceland experiencing relative material deprivation – rather, it is likely that
different items and activities would be more appropriate to include in the Icelandic
context. Again, this is addressed in more depth in the final section of this chapter.
In addition to cross-country comparisons, the authors of the report draw attention
to demographic factors which appear to have similar effects across country bound-
aries. Children are more likely to be deprived if they live in families with parents who
have low or no educational qualifications, if their parents have a low work intensity
(i.e., little paid work), or if they are in a lone parent family. Variables where there are
differences between countries include whether children live in urban or rural settings
(in some countries, urban children are worse off than rural children; in others, the
converse is true) and whether children’s parents are migrants.
49.3.3 Impacts of Material Deprivation on Child Well-Being

and Well-Becoming
One of the difficulties in identifying the consequences of material deprivation in

childhood is that it is very strongly associated with a range of other factors which
can influence children’s outcomes. Households suffering from material deprivation
are considerably more likely to also suffer from health problems and to experience
high levels of family stress. Moreover, low levels of parental education as well as low
or ineffective parental involvement in their children’s education, combined with low
levels of cultural and social capital and low aspirations, are likely to affect child
outcomes (DCSF 2009: 57). In this context, it is perhaps more useful to view material
deprivation and other comorbid issues as facets of the interactive, dynamic processes
which mediate and/or exacerbate one another in contributing to child outcomes.
A wide range of academic disciplines have developed a growing body of work
investigating the effects of many aspects of poverty, including material deprivation,
on children. Studies from fields as varied as health, psychology, and economics
have identified links between poverty and educational and intellectual develop-
ment, measured through school attendance and attainment, on health, as well as on
many types of social and emotional functioning (Engle and Black 2008; Guo and
Harris 2000; Huston et al. 1994).
The effects of material deprivation are very difficult to isolate from other highly
related social problems. Family income, parental education, and occupational status
as well as external factors such as environment, peer group, and school quality
are all highly interrelated, and the precise effect of these influences on a child’s
life cannot be easily separated from that of other impacting factors (Santiago,
Wadsworth & Stump). However, for the purposes of this chapter, it is useful
to identify the mechanisms by which material deprivation is thought to affect
child well-being outcomes, while acknowledging the importance of other,
related impacts.
Of all impacts of child poverty, child health outcomes are probably the most
widely studied. Poverty is one of the most important determinants of child and adult
health (Spencer 2000). In countries where children suffer from an extreme lack of
hygiene, inadequate calorie intake and inadequate medical treatment the relation-
ship between material deprivation and health is self-evident. It is commonly
assumed that child poverty in developed countries takes a more subtle form.
However, many of the main causes of morbidity associated with child poverty are
applicable to developing and developed countries alike. Inadequate nutrition and
unhealthy dietary patterns, including children missing out on meals, are major
problems in developed countries too. Both diets which are low in nutrition as
well as irregular meals are associated with a range of health problems, some of
which may only appear in adulthood (Rampersaud et al. 2005). Lack of access to
medical treatment for children is also a problem in developed countries with weaker
national health provision, such as the USA (Wood 2003).
Children who grow up in impoverished conditions are more likely to suffer
from a wide range of health problems, and their overall health is poorer
(Aber et al. 1997). Examples of health problems which are strongly associated with
child poverty include asthma and wheezing (Beatrice et al. 2012), limiting long-
standing illness (Nikiema et al. 2010), low birth weight (Reading et al. 1993) and
obesity (G.W. Evans and Kutcher 2011).
There are several ways in which material deprivation is thought to be related to
poor health outcomes in children. Poor quality housing and overcrowding may
directly cause health conditions like asthma (Beatrice et al. 2012; Krieger and
Higgins 2002). Poor neighborhoods may expose children to physical dangers
resulting in a greater incidence of impairment through accidents (Kendrick et al.
2005). In some countries, including developed countries such as the USA, poor
children are exposed to poorer quality air and water (Gary W. Evans 2004). In
addition, the stress associated with poverty has a severe impact on both physical and
mental health. High stress levels in expectant mothers will begin to affect a child’s
health even prior to their birth. Children born prematurely and/or with low birth
weight, both of which relate to maternal stress as well as other factors associated
with poverty, are also known to suffer from impaired and physical development and
to suffer from mineral deficiencies and stunted growth (Aber et al. 1997). In
addition, poor children are more likely to develop behaviors which further endanger
their health at a later age, such as smoking (G.W. Evans and Kutcher 2011).
The health gap between children who start their lives in conditions of material
deprivation and those who do not continues to widen throughout the life course and
results in a significant difference in life expectancy between the poorest and richest
income percentile (Marmot 2005). In this context, it is important to separate the
effects of absolute material deprivation from those resulting from relative material
deprivation on health. The variations in health outcomes between socioeconomic
groups can only be accounted for by the direct effects of material deprivation to
a small extent, and over the last decades, it has increasingly become apparent that
relative material deprivation, or inequality, is the main driver of differences in
health outcomes (Wilkinson 1997). Rather than specific health problems arising
only in those who suffer from material deprivation, there are health inequalities at
each level of material well-being.
As well as physical health, material deprivation has strong measurable effects on
mental health, cognitive development, and educational attainment (Engle and Black
2008; Guo and Harris 2000; Hutson et al. 1994). Poor educational attainment and
the associated lack of skills are both a consequence of poverty in the backgrounds of
children and a cause of poverty in their later lives (Tilak 2002). A large body of
research confirms that poverty and parents’ educational background, along with
other aspects of deprivation, are among the strongest drivers of variations in
educational performance (Betts and Roemer 2007). Material deprivation influences
educational outcomes in two ways – directly, where material deprivation itself is
associated with negative outcomes, and indirectly, where material deprivation acts
as a mediating variable, creating or exacerbating other problems (such as family
stress) which are themselves associated with negative outcomes. The combined
influence, or confluence, of such problems may in turn have an even greater
negative impact on the child’s educational progress.
Although in the UK, as well as in many other countries, the core of state
education is free, there are many unavoidable but hidden costs of education to
parents. Such costs may be quite substantial and could include, for instance, school
uniforms, sports clothes or (sports) equipment, stationary, calculators, books,
expected contributions to school trips, and home computers with Internet access.
While not a formal requirement of school education, educational and stimulating
toys are part of the wider support of a child’s educational process, and the avail-
ability of such toys from preschool age onwards will be strongly affected by the
financial position of the family. Parents’ ability to purchase school-related items as
well as books and educational toys has considerable influence on social inclusion as
well as on attainment (Guo and Harris 2000).
Conditions of material deprivation are also likely to affect the wider context in
which a child grows up. Families in poverty are more likely to live in
overcrowded and poor quality housing and are more likely to suffer from housing
problems such as damp, rot, mold, water damage, and poor insulation (Payne
2006). The quality of the physical home environment has a strong impact on
educational attainment as well as on other aspects of well-being (Barnes, Butt &
Tomaszewski). Poor quality housing has a range of direct and indirect effects,
including health effects arising from damp and lack of light, psychological
effects, and the social consequences of being ashamed to, or unable to, have
friends or family visit (Barnes et al.). Living in overcrowded housing has been
linked with a range of negative outcomes in children (Goux and Maurin 2005). On
a more practical level, overcrowding may affect children’s ability to do home-
work, to play, and to get sufficient rest. Research has shown that living in
unsuitable or overcrowded housing is linked poor socio-emotional development
of children (G.W. Evans 2006) and poor physical health, including greater
incidence of respiratory diseases such as asthma (Krieger and Higgins 2002).
Additional problems have been noted in relation to families with young children
in high-rise flats, as such accommodation may heavily restrict children’s ability to
engage in outdoor play. On a broader level, lack of secure home ownership or
tenancy may result in greater mobility, which could have a negative effect on
attainment as well (Bramley and Karley 2007). Unsurprisingly, therefore, a range
of housing indicators have been found to have a significant effect on educational
attainment.
School attainment is not only mediated by the home environment but also by the
neighborhood and community, as well as by the school environment itself. Poverty
and disadvantage tend to concentrate in areas and in schools (Bramley and Karley
2007). In many countries, poor children live in neighborhoods which lack safe places
to play or meet friends and have greater risk of violence and crime, with fewer and
lower quality local services, including a lack of sports or after-school activities (Wood
2003). Notwithstanding the importance of quality teaching and school resources,
concentrations of poverty and deprivation in a school make the task of getting good
or even adequate outcomes much more difficult, and concentrations of material
deprivation in an area may have a considerable negative effect on the quality of
education that can be provided. In addition, deprived areas typically contain fewer
safe play facilities for children, which may have long-term implications for physical
health as well as social and psychological child development (Milteer et al. 2007).
However, as material deprivation, educational attainment and neighborhood
quality are strongly related, an intervention in each of these may have a strong
mediating impact on problems in other areas. Therefore, a greater investment in
schools with vulnerable populations may help to address lower attainment, and
a positive school environment may have a considerable positive effect on the
psychological well-being of children (Muijs et al. 2004). Thus, although the
wider social and geographical context in which children grow up may compound
the individualistic and intergenerational effects of material deprivation, interven-
tions in one area of a child’s life may also have a positive effect on other areas.
49.3.4 Material Deprivation, Social Exclusion and Child

Development
[It is] useful to be remember that not only is poverty usually an unwanted and unwarranted
state to which large proportions of the world’s population are consigned, but also that
aspects of deprivation can be experienced as a psychological state that is unpleasant,
potentially extremely so [. . .] (Anand and Lea 2011: 285)
A lack of material items affects children’s development in both direct and indirect
ways. Some effects are immediate. A growing body of research demonstrates that
children who are deprived of items that their peer group have report strong feelings of
social exclusion and experience a range of related problems such as bullying, isola-
tion, and low self-esteem (Ridge 2002). Such effects may continue later in a child’s
life. Research has shown that children who have experienced poverty at a young age
are more likely to engage in antisocial behavior and suffer from depression later on in
life, particularly during their teenage years (Beatrice et al. 2012).
As discussed before, material deprivation is associated with a range of other
problems that affect children’s lives. Both individually and cumulatively, such
problems affect children’s development. Research has shown that children growing
up in families which are deprived of basic items such as food and clothes are
negatively impacted in many areas of their development, including cognitive skills,
emotional well-being, and behavior (Brooks-Gunn et al. 1993). These negative
effects do not only ensue from material deprivation directly. A range of contextual
factors may compound the direct negative effects of material deprivation on
children’s development. As previously noted, the child’s home environment is
strongly associated with a range of health and well-being outcomes. The home
environment encompasses the physical quality of the accommodation, the warmth
of interactions with the child’s parents and siblings, and opportunities for learning
(Duncan and Brooks-Gunn 2003). Parent–child relationships are particularly
important. The cognitive and emotional well-being of children is known to be
highly negatively affected by maternal depression as well as economic deprivation.
As material deprivation is a major cause of maternal depression, the effects are both
separate and cumulative (Kiernan and Huerta 2008). In other words, poverty
increases the risk of depression in parents and depression in families is likely to

affect children negatively. As material deprivation also has a direct negative effect
on children’s well-being, including children’s own mental health, these effects
combined have an even greater negative impact. Apart from depression, family
economic pressure also increases the risk of conflicts between family members,
which in turn negatively affect emotional health and social relationships (Duncan
and Brooks-Gunn 2003). Combined, the effects of child poverty substantially
impede a child’s ability to develop and lead a healthy, successful and fulfilling life.
Given the many consequences discussed in the sections above, it is clear that the
costs of child poverty to children, families, and societies are so great as to be mostly
immeasurable. Given that children’s well-being is entrusted to families and (adult)
societies, there is an evident moral duty to minimize experiences like child poverty
which have negative impacts on well-being and well-becoming. But there is also
a strong pragmatic rationale for this agenda. Lower levels of educational attainment
represent a great loss of talent to society and a loss of productivity to the economy.
In addition, many problems which arise from poverty in childhood, such as
difficulty in finding employment, poor health, and social problems, represent
considerable costs to the welfare state and pressures on national institutions and
services. Improvements in our understanding of children’s material deprivation,
and particular in the accurate measurement thereof, is of tremendous importance in
the creation of a better society.
49.4 Conclusion and Future Directions
This chapter has provided a theoretical background to the study of material depriva-
tion, looked at ways of operationalizing material living standards as a measure of
poverty, and examined the importance of material living conditions and some of the
impacts of material deprivation on children. In this final section, we provide a summary
of the content, and turn our attention to possible areas for future development.
49.4.1 Summary
Material living standards provide a direct measure of the material situations in

which children live and are a useful approach to studying child poverty directly.
The use of material deprivation as a measure of poverty has advantages over other
approaches: it provides insight into the actual material conditions in which children
live and allows for an examination of the relationships between these material
living conditions and other aspects of child well-being. A particular advantage of
material deprivation over income is that it allows for an examination of children as
intertwined with but not exclusively and entirely represented by their families –
children’s own resources and the resources within children’s households can be
examined to gain a fuller picture of children’s material situations. However,
material deprivation interacts with other aspects of child poverty – for example,
household income poverty and social exclusion – and should be seen as one useful
approach to poverty measurement, rather than the only useful approach to poverty
measurement.
Various methods of arriving at indicators of material living standards are
available, including expert opinion, observation of spending patterns, and consen-
sual measures. In recent academic studies consensual measures have become
popular, and these have fed into measures of material deprivation in the UK and
more widely. However, an important methodological issue in the study of material
living conditions is that measures are highly time- and space-contingent. Items
considered necessities in one time or place will not necessarily have the same status
in a different time or place.
Studies of child material deprivation have found that it is related to but not
identical to income poverty – material deprivation rates are higher than income
poverty rates in the UK, but this is not the case for all EU countries, and in some,
income poverty is higher than material deprivation. However, this may reflect the
problems with attempting to use identical measures of material deprivation across
divergent national contexts. Children in certain categories – for example, those
living in lone parent families, families where parents have low or no educational
qualifications, and those where parents have low or no paid employment – are more
vulnerable to material deprivation than others. Material deprivation, along with
other types of poverty, is associated with a wide range of negative outcomes for
children. These include impacts on health, education, development, and social
participation.
49.4.2 Future Directions
We have identified three areas where we feel further research could usefully help to
inform the use of material living standards as a measure of poverty and to refine
existing measures. However, we acknowledge that developments in research often
take unpredicted directions and by no means argue that these are the main or even
necessarily the most important areas for development.
49.4.3 Putting Children at the Center of the Study
We have noted above that while the focus of much research into children’s material
living standards has developed to take a child-centric perspective (i.e., children
rather than or in addition to families or households are the focus of investigations),
less work has been done to develop child-derived perspectives (i.e., children as the
source of items that are included in material deprivation measures). Some qualita-
tive researchers have investigated children’s perceptions of poverty and how far
these tally with or challenge adults’ perceptions (e.g., Crowley and Vulliamy
(2007); Ridge (2002); Sutton et al. (2007)). Through this research is a common
theme of children perceiving poverty as exclusion – from material goods and
activities that are taken for granted by their peers, resulting in exclusion from
normal social activities and processes. Similarly, work is taking place which
examines how lack of adult-derived but child-centric socially perceived necessities
impacts on children’s subjective well-being (Knies 2012) and on children’s
perceptions of adult-derived child deprivation items (Swords et al. 2011). But less
work has been done in terms of operationalizing children’s understandings of
material deprivation for use in quantitative surveys. While traditionally poverty
measurement has focused on adult perceptions of poverty and, to a large extent, on
household-level measures, developments in the fields of both academia and policy
would indicate the value of a shift towards incorporating children’s perspectives
more widely (Crowley and Vulliamy 2007). In academic circles, these develop-
ments include two main fields. The first of these are studies of intra-household
distributions which have been addressed to an extent in terms of differences in
access to financial and material resources between men and women, but have been
under-researched in terms of differences between adults and children (White et al.
2002). The second is the New Sociology of Childhood and the Child Indicators
Movement, both of which provide evidence that children have differing concep-
tions of their lives to adults and should therefore be consulted directly in research
concerning their well-being (Ben-Arieh 2005). In policy, a major driver towards
developing child-derived measures is the UNCRC. The UNCRC has been ratified
by every country in the world with the exceptions of the USA and Somalia. Of
particular relevance here is Article 12, which commits governments and adults in
general to consult with children in age-appropriate ways about decisions which
impact their welfare. Since we have shown above the wide-ranging impacts that
child material deprivation can have on children’s welfare, the lack of consultation
with children on what deprivation means for them and on how it should be
addressed in policy appears to be a noteworthy omission which requires addressing.
Within the UK, Main and Bradshaw (2012), in a collaborative project between
the University of York and The Children’s Society, have begun to develop a child-
derived quantitative instrument for the measurement of child material deprivation
(see also Main and Pople (2011)). While the focus of their work has been on
investigating the associations between this kind of measure and measures that
reflect more adult-derived conceptions of child poverty (see (Bradshaw and Main
2010)) and how this measure compares with other measures in terms of its capacity
to explain variation in children’s subjective well-being, the potential for this and
similar instruments to be included in a wider range of research projects is evident.
Drawing on the socially perceived necessities approach outlined above, researchers
worked with children to develop a child-centric and child-derived list of deprivation
items. These were then included in several large-scale representative surveys.
Child-derived indices of material deprivation were found to be much more strongly
related to children’s subjective well-being than income-related measures and were
much more strongly related to children’s perceptions of family poverty – that is,
subjective poverty measures – than income was. This finding is supported in
research using different measures of both child material deprivation and of subjec-
tive well-being (Knies 2012). This suggests that material deprivation makes more
sense to children as an approach to child poverty than income poverty does. The
items included in the index offer both complementary and challenging notions of
what poverty means to those measures derived from adults. While some items –
for example, having a safe outdoor space – are common to both indices, others,
such as eating fresh fruit and vegetables in the adult-derived index and having
brand-name trainers in the child-derived index, show sharp contrasts in how
deprivation is perceived by adults and children. This may tap in to the distinction
between well-being and well-becoming – children’s ideas of necessities are based
on things that will add to their social inclusion in the present, while adult’s
perceptions are more related to things that will keep children healthy and
contribute to their well-becoming. This emphasizes the importance of including
both adults’ and children’s perceptions of material necessities in studies of
children’s material living standards, since neither viewpoint alone captures the
whole picture.
Table 49.5 shows a comparison between the items included in the Main and
Bradshaw (2012) index and the items included in the adult-derived index included
in official UK poverty measures. Details of the proportion of children lacking
each item are presented, based on the 2010–2011 UK HBAI data for the adult-
derived items (see Adams et al. (2012)) and the Children’s Society 2010–2011
Child Well-being Survey for child-derived items. It should be noted that figures for
children lacking each item are not directly comparable due to important differences
in samples and in data collection methods (most notably, the adult-derived index
is concerned with children from birth to 16 while the Main and Bradshaw index is
concerned with children aged 8–16, and the adult-derived index uses adult proxies
while the Main and Bradshaw index is based on data collected from children
themselves).
Similar work on establishing children’s own conceptions of material deprivation
and using these to inform measures in quantitative surveys is underway at the Haruv
Institute in Israel and in the Poverty and Social Exclusion Project in Hong Kong.
Gaining more data, and more international data, on how children’s perceptions of
material deprivation compare to adults’ conceptions and how they perform in terms
of explaining variation in various domains of objective and subjective well-being,
would be a valuable development to our understanding of children’s material living
conditions.
49.4.4 Creating Internationally Comparative Measures
One of the key features of studies of material living standards are their specificity in
terms of time and place. While there may be some items and activities that are
relevant across time and place, the specific things that are considered necessities
(whether by experts or in popular opinion) are strongly influenced by social context
(Townsend 1979). Even seemingly constant necessities like nutrition are liable to
change in the nature of the specific measures used as a result of interactions between
developments in knowledge about nutritional needs (e.g., knowledge about the
Table 49.5 Comparing adult-derived and child-derived UK measures of child material

deprivation
% Child-derived child material %
Adult-derived child material children deprivation items (Main and children
deprivation items (UK policy) lacking Bradshaw) lacking
Enough bedrooms for every child 10 14 Some pocket money each week to 22
years or over and of a different spend on yourself
gender
Celebrations on special occasions 3 Some money that you can save each 18
month, either in a bank or at home
Leisure equipment such as sports 6 A pair of designer or brand-name 13
equipment or a bicycle trainers
Hobby or leisure activity 6 An iPod or other personal music 17
player
Swimming at least once a month 11 Cable or satellite TV at home 5
Outdoor space/facilities to play 9 A garden at home or somewhere 9
safely nearby like a park where you can
safely spend time with your friends
Having friends round for tea or 7 A family car for transport when you 7
a snack once a fortnight need it
Have a warm winter coat 2 The right kind of clothes to fit in with 6
other people your age
At least 1 week’s holiday away from 36 At least one holiday away from home 15
home with family each year with your family of people
you live with
Go on school trips at least once 5 (for Trips or days out with your family or 18
a term (school-age) OR Go to both) people you live with at least once
playgroup at least once a week a month
(preschool)
Attend organized activity once 9
a week
Eat fresh fruit and/or vegetables 4
every day
Sources: Adams et al. (2012); Main and Bradshaw (2012)
number of calories needed to sustain functioning has changed over time, resulting
in changing expert opinion as more information comes to light), changes in normal
living patterns (e.g., shifts from a dominance of active to sedentary occupations),
and changes in conventions around eating (e.g., the types of food that are consid-
ered culturally normal, the frequency of eating, and the specific foods used to meet
nutritional requirements). As a result of this, the specific indicators used to measure
children’s material living standards change significantly over time and across
locations. At the same time, there is an increasing drive in academic work not
only to draw on individual national contexts but also to broaden studies to include
comparative elements (Yeates and Irving 2005). This is important to the study of
children’s material living standards for two reasons. Firstly, children (and adults)
live within wider social contexts which shape their experiences and their
interpretations of those experiences. As processes of globalization continue, chil-

dren’s experiences will be shaped by a growing awareness of and influence by not
only national institutions but also international and supranational bodies (Thomp-
son 2012). Secondly, comparative studies allow for an examination of the ways that
different policy contexts work in shaping child poverty reduction strategies and
how these policy frameworks impact on children’s material living standards and
interact with other aspects of children’s well-being. Comparative studies are there-
fore of vital importance to understanding child material deprivation and making
policies which are likely to minimize or eradicate it.
These two factors – the cultural specificity of good indicators of material living
standards coupled with the importance of internationally comparative research – pose
an important challenge for the future use of material deprivation as a measure of child
poverty. This dilemma can be seen in recent data from the EU-SILC, which in 2009
included a suite of child material deprivation indicators. Deprivation rates for the
indicators used varied wildly across countries included in the survey (data are taken
from de Neubourg et al. (2012) – see above). To give some examples, the item with
the lowest deprivation rate overall was three meals a day, with 0.9 % of children
overall lacking this. However, this obscures variation between countries; virtually no
children (0.0 %) lack this in Cyprus and Norway, compared to 7.4 % of children
lacking it in Bulgaria. The item with the highest deprivation rate – leisure equipment –
provides a similar picture. 11.1 % of children lack this overall, with a low of 1.1 % of
children lacking it in Iceland and a high of 64.4 % lacking it in Romania. Similar
patterns emerge across the range of items, with exceptionally low deprivation rates for
some countries and exceptionally high deprivation rates for others. While to some
extent this reveals genuine variation – it makes sense that children would be more
likely to be deprived in poorer countries and less likely to be deprived in richer
countries – it also raises questions about the ways in which deprivation is measured.
As noted above, material deprivation in rich countries is almost exclusively a relative
issue. That is, the kinds of items and activities that constitute necessities will depend
on the social norms of the context in which a child lives. So while it is perfectly
laudable to aim towards an international community where no children lack, for
example, access to the Internet, the impact of lacking such access is likely to be much
more severe in a country where a small proportion of children lack it than in a country
where so few children lack it that it may more appropriately be treated as an indicator
of relative wealth rather than of relative deprivation.
The issue, then, is whether to attempt to arrive at a common list of indicators of
material deprivation which can be used in international comparisons or whether
to attempt to create lists of different items which nevertheless measure similar
underlying constructs. The difficulty with the first of these solutions is that the
resulting list is likely to have to resort to the lowest common denominators, with
low or no deprivation rates in richer countries. This is unlikely to reflect the
day-to-day realities of life for children in these countries who may not go without
the most basic of necessities, but still go without things that their peers take for
granted, and are still unable to live in a fashion that reflects the social norms and
customary arrangements for people of their age within their society. In terms of
the second solution – using different indicators – the difficulty is how to develop
measures that use different indicators but can convincingly be demonstrated to
measure the same underlying concept. Demonstrating that lists with no specific
items in common nonetheless are providing a valid and reliable measure of the
same thing may be difficult not only to do but also once done to communicate in
a way that is convincing to a nonexpert audience. Additionally, this second
solution is likely to be more costly, depending on detailed qualitative and
quantitative research in each country to arrive at culturally specific lists of
indicators. However, in terms of comparing the underlying construct of relative
material deprivation, the second solution offers what is potentially a more
promising approach than the first.
49.4.5 Looking at the Full Continuum of Material Living Standards
As detailed above, it is well established that material deprivation has a significant

and negative impact on children’s well-being. The moral and pragmatic reasons
why we should be concerned with children’s material living standards are convinc-
ing and well established. However, some researchers argue that a focus on the lower
end of the distribution of material living standards – that is, on material depriva-
tion – is problematic (Ridge and Wright 2008). There are two reasons for this –
firstly, this approach limits what we can learn about the impact of material living
standards on children across the whole of the population; secondly, the approach
risks unfairly putting a spotlight on the experiences and behaviors of the poor which
perpetuates the idea that they are somehow responsible for their condition and
inferior to their better-off counterparts, rather than simply part of a social system
which creates and maintains their position (Levitas 1998). An additional reason to
examine the impact of material living standards across the whole of the distribution
is that this may offer a more complete insight into how different types and levels of
material living standards interact with cause and affect different outcomes for
children. This ties in with broader approaches to poverty – studying the whole
range of material living conditions will help to identify what is and what is not
important to a holistic notion of well-being, rather than just to basic or minimum
functioning.
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Child Costs
50
Bruce Bradbury
50.1 Introduction
How much do children cost, and what are the implications of this for child well-
being and social policy? Even if parents are generally net beneficiaries of parent-
hood, these costs are of significant policy relevance. They also have implications
for child well-being, but the link is not always straightforward.
The additional costs of children include expenditures on the goods that children
consume (“direct” costs), lost parental earnings due to the need to spend time caring
for children (“indirect” costs), and other more general time costs such as lost leisure
time. In most countries, direct and indirect child costs are addressed with separate
policy mechanisms, while lost leisure time has not been an object of policy concern.
One of the key objectives of cash payments to families is to assist in meeting the
expenditure costs of children. Similarly, policies such as parental leave and child
care subsidies reduce the employment income losses associated with rearing
children.
Arising as it does from consumer expenditure theory, most economic estimates
of the cost of children have focused on the direct, expenditure costs – though more
recent research has now also begun to address broader measures of cost that include
indirect and leisure costs. In this chapter, we discuss the nature of child costs, the
methods that have been proposed and implemented for the estimation of child costs,
and the theoretical and practical relationship between direct child costs and income
support and taxation policy.
The chapter begins with a review of the different concepts associated with the
cost of children. The cost of children is a cost facing parents. Nonetheless, it is also
closely related to children’s consumption and well-being.
B. Bradbury
Social Policy Research Centre, University of New South Wales, Sydney, Australia

1484 B. Bradbury
The different methods used to estimate child costs are then examined and
surveys of previous research examined in Sect. 50.3. Unfortunately most estimation
methods rely upon very strong, and often opaque, assumptions. Those that do rely
upon weaker assumptions are difficult to estimate given available data. To the
extent to which any consensus exists about the costs of children, we cannot argue
that this arises from well-established research results.
Nonetheless, research and policy in a number of areas necessarily draws upon
assumptions about the magnitude of child costs. Section 50.4 reviews the reasons
why the direct costs of children in particular might be of relevance to tax and
transfer policies. These include a consideration of the life course costs of parent-
hood, poverty alleviation, and child well-being. Though the direct costs of children
are relevant to all these issues, the links between the magnitude of child costs and
policy design are often only indirect.
All rich nations have programs that provide additional income to families with
children – and the costs associated with raising children are a major justification for
these policies. The chapter concludes with a review of the patterns of child
supplements inherent in the tax-transfer policies in a number of OECD countries.
Both the payments that are provided to couples without children and the additional
supplements paid to those with children vary considerably across these countries.
In general, there is less (proportionate) variation in the payments to families with
children than to those without – suggesting more cross-national consensus about the
needs of children.
50.2 The Cost of Children and the Within-Household Allocation

of Resources
The presence of children is a key influence on the allocation of time and money
within the household. To what extent should these allocations be considered
a “cost” of children? This, and other related concepts, is best understood in the
overall context of household resource allocations.
A diagrammatic “snapshot” representation of the resource flows in the house-
hold economy is shown in Fig. 50.1 (for a household with fixed composition).
Parental time flows are shown in blue, money flows in black, and state-provided
services in red. Parental time is categorized into market work, home production or
leisure for the parents, home production for children, and joint home production.
The money income of the household is similarly directed toward parent, joint, or
child consumption. In addition, the household receives services directly provided
by the state (as well as from other households – not shown). Many of these services
are provided directly to particular household members – such as education and
health services or subsidies.
Children’s consumption can be described within this framework as the com-
bined value of all the goods and services consumed by children. This includes
the value of home production by their parents, goods and services purchased for
the children (including goods purchased for joint household consumption), as
50 Child Costs 1485
Market State
- Wage rates Taxation
- Employment
opportunities Income
Services
- Capital income transfers
Labour
supply
Parental
Joint
Goods and Child
Household services, Goods and
Income Retirement services Goods and
Saving services
Parental time and Home Home Home

production production, production production
capabilities Leisure (parenting)
Fig. 50.1 Resources flows in the household economy
well as services provided directly by the state to children. Parental consumption

can be defined in a similar way.
Jointly consumed goods and services, and the economies of sharing that they
imply, are important for living standards. These goods have the same properties as
public goods in the broader economy. A given unit of a public good can provide a unit
of consumption to more than one member of the household. Few goods are perfect
public goods within the household, but many have a substantial component. For
example, having an additional child in the household does not usually mean that the
household needs to have a larger kitchen to achieve the same amenity – but the
addition of several children might mean this. Similarly, a TV is a pure public good if
all members of the household have the same viewing tastes (and they all fit on the
couch), or if they have different viewing times. Otherwise, an additional TV might be
required in a larger household to attain the same viewing amenity as in the smaller.
1486 B. Bradbury
These economies of sharing can apply to both purchased goods and to home
production activities. It takes little extra time to cook for an additional person – as
long as they eat the same food as the first person. They can also apply to government-
provided services which are shared between all members of the household. The latter
include services such as physical services (e.g., water supply and drainage), where
there are mainly fixed costs, and also classic public goods such as law and order.
50.2.1 The Cost of Children
Within this framework, the cost of a child can be defined as:

The amount by which total resources would need to be higher in the household containing
the child in order for parental living standards to be maintained at the level attained when
there is no child in the household.
The focus in this definition is on the welfare level of the parents rather than the
children, as it is the parents who bear the costs. Nonetheless, these costs have
implications for child well-being and for policies to support child well-being – as
will be discussed further below. Moreover, this definition describes the cost of the
first child in the household. It can be extended to multi-child households by
comparing them with either childless households or households with fewer chil-
dren. In the latter case, the constant living standard yardstick might include the
living standards of the preexisting children.
The representation of parental living standards used here does not encompass
the benefits of parenthood, nor the reasons why parents might choose to have
children. Instead, child cost is considered purely with respect to the impact on
the within-household allocation of resources. In the economic literature, several
different terms have been used to describe such a narrow concept of welfare
which ignores the direct benefits of family composition. These include the concept
of a “conditional” welfare comparison (Pollack and Wales 1979), a “situation
comparison” (Pollack and Wales 1992), or a comparison generating an
“indifference scale” (Browning et al. 2006).
Because parents value children, the existence of child costs does not automati-
cally imply that we should consider parents as worse off because of the cost of
children, or that policies addressing equity between parents and nonparents should
automatically take these costs into account. Nonetheless, as is discussed in
Sect. 50.4 below, these costs do have both equity and efficiency implications for
tax-transfer policy in a number of circumstances.
In addition, the costs that parents face in raising children are potential determi-
nants of fertility decisions and, in turn, are relevant to discussions about the broader
social externalities that children provide as members of the next generation.
Fertility decisions will be influenced by the price of raising a child, which is closely
related to (but not the same as) the cost of children (Bradbury 2008). Social
externalities are a major motivator for policy support for families (Folbre, 2008).
These two issues are not examined in this chapter.
50 Child Costs 1487
As noted above, the presence of children means a diversion of both parental

time and money resources to children. A comprehensive measure of the cost of
children must encompass both of these (Apps and Rees 2001; Bradbury 2008).
In most of the literature, it is assumed that time and money costs can be separated
and that money costs can be estimated on their own, independent of the factors that
influence time costs. Though this assumption of “separability” places some restric-
tions on the consumption behavior that can be described, its close affinity with the
public policy institutions which address either one or the other type of cost means that
it is a convenient approximation to the complexity of household behavior.
(For example, some components of time use and expenditure are particularly
close substitutes – such as paid work time and childcare expenditure – and the factors
driving the trade-offs between these two are not well captured in this type of model.)
In this chapter, we mainly consider research on the direct (expenditure) costs of
children rather than the indirect and more general time costs. This is for three main
reasons. It is an area where substantial research has been undertaken, it has a clear
link to a particular area of policy (income support and taxation), and it is particu-
larly closely linked to questions of child well-being.
A few papers in the literature have sought to estimate the overall costs of
children (Apps and Rees 2001; Bradbury 2008), taking into account the overall
impact of children on parental income and leisure. There is also a larger literature
analyzing the consequential impact of the time costs of children on the earnings of
parents (particularly mothers). (Examples include Bronars and Grogger (1994),
Chapman et al. (2001), and Breusch and Gray (2004).) These areas of research
are not considered in any detail here.
Most commonly, estimates of the direct costs of children are expressed as a ratio,
a consumer equivalence scale, describing the relative income needs of the parents
in the two family types. Using a single ratio for each family type comparison
implies that costs are a constant proportion of family income. This constant
proportionality assumption is sometimes used as an identifying assumption
(see Sect. 50.3) but is more usefully just seen as a convenient approximation.
In this ratio form, the cost of children is usually expressed as a proportion of the
income of the family without children (or sometimes relative to the income of
a single adult). Thus, an example consumer equivalence scale for a couple with one
child compared to the reference family of a couple might be 1.25. That is, the extra
cost of the child is 25 % of the childless couple.
We return to consider estimates of this cost ratio in Sect. 50.3. But first, we
consider the relationship between this indicator of parental well-being and
children’s consumption and well-being.
50.2.2 Children’s Consumption and Well-Being
If the additional cost of a child is 25 % of that of the childless couple, we could also
express this as 20 % of the expenditure requirements of the couple with children
(0.25/1.25 ¼ 20 %). However, this does not imply that child consumption is 20 % of
1488 B. Bradbury
household consumption because this would ignore the sharing of resources within
the household. Thus, although the cost of children arises from the fact that children
consume household resources, it is not the same as children’s consumption.
Because many resources within the household are shared between members, the
consumption level of children can be greater than the cost of the children to the
parents. For example, consider a good that is almost public, such as the heating of
a common room in the household. Having a child in the room does not increase the
amount of heating required to heat the room. So the cost of the child for this
particular good is zero. But the child is nonetheless warm and a consumer of
heating services.
More important than the economic value of the child’s consumption is the
contribution of this consumption to their well-being. Does knowledge of the cost
of children provide information on this? In one indirect sense it does, though this
interpretation is controversial.
For parents, there is a natural comparison of well-being levels with nonparents. If
we can estimate the direct (expenditure) cost of children, then we know the increase in
income required for the parents to have the same material consumption level as when
they did not have children. Similar adjustments can be made for households with
different numbers of adult members. So measures of parental well-being and poverty
are typically derived from income adjusted for family size using an equivalence scale.
Does this “equivalent income” tell us anything about the well-being of children?
Not directly. Nonetheless, it is common in distributional research to simply assume
that all members of the household have the same level of material well-being
(at least on average). This implies that estimates of the cost of children feed into
indicators of child as well as adult welfare.
Lind (2003), however, argues that this assumption of equal well-being is invalid.
There is no particular reason why researchers or policy makers measuring social
welfare (or designing policies to influence welfare) should necessarily accept that
the actual division of resources within the household implies equal well-being of
the individuals within it. He argues that such an assumption is “Panglossian” –
simply assuming that because this is the actual allocation, it must be the best one.
Nonetheless, the equal-welfare assumption can find some foundation in
a democratic idea of social preferences. If the average household in a given society
devotes a certain share of resources to children, then this might be seen as the
revealed social preference of parents in that society – which in turn might serve as
grounding for social evaluations such as poverty calculations. While the circularity
of the reasoning might invite the Panglossian epithet, it at least provides a starting
point for distributional and policy analysis.
50.3 Estimating the Cost of Children
Any such detailed considerations of adult and child welfare assume that we do in
fact know the cost of children. Three broad approaches attempting to estimate the
cost of children can be identified in the literature. The first, often used to guide the
50 Child Costs 1489
establishment of poverty lines and social assistance programs, uses a budget stan-
dards approach to set minimum standards of living for households of different
types. The second approach is to undertake surveys of peoples’ subjective views of
their living standards and to compare these against their incomes. Finally, there are
a wide range of studies drawing upon economic theories of the household and using
data on household expenditure patterns to identify the costs of children.
All of these methods rely upon crucial identifying assumptions that are subject to
criticism, and despite the importance of this question for analysis and policy, it is
difficult to draw any robust conclusion about the cost of children. One recent study
concluded:
A close examination of the literature reveals that no consensus prevails regarding the
correct values of the equivalence scales. The magnitudes of the scales differ considerably
from one study to another depending on the procedure, the database, and the underlying
model. On the other hand, the values of the scales used for adjusting incomes have
important consequences for normative analysis and policy recommendations. (Ebert and
Moyes 2009, p. 1041)
50.3.1 Budget Standards Methods
In the budget standards approach, researchers assemble a list of consumption goods

needed to attain some given living standard, such as “modest but adequate.” These are
typically validated using methods such as focus group discussions and then costed.
The pioneer was Rowntree (1901) who drew up budget standards for families
living in York (UK). The method continues to be used for both research and
minimum income policies (e.g., Deleek et al. 1992; Bradshaw 1993; Saunders
et al. 1998; Henman 2007).
Though the main purpose of budget standards research has been to provide
advice on the income amount required to attain some given standard of living,
comparisons between families with and without children can be interpreted as
a measure of the cost of children.
Henman (2007, p. 8) summarizes the advantages of this approach:
Because estimates are based on a detailed list of goods and services, the assumptions are
relatively transparent and therefore more readily open to debate and alteration. Since the
approach is normative, it also overcomes distortions in measuring the costs of children due
to the income constraint in low-income households.
The mechanical construction of the budgets also means that they can be cus-
tomized to suit a wide variety of individual circumstances.
On the other hand, although the method is clear in its normative foundations, it
can be difficult to justify the assumptions needed to build the list of goods and hence
the weights that are placed on each category of expenditure. Nonetheless, the
transparency of the assumptions (compared to those in the other methods described
below) means that the budget standards approach continues to be employed in
a wide variety of settings.
1490 B. Bradbury
50.3.2 Subjective Methods
An alternative approach is to measure norms about the needs of different house-

holds in a “democratic” fashion by drawing upon survey data estimating the
relationship between subjective indicators of living standards and family
composition.
There is now a long tradition of research using this strategy, particularly work
building on that of the “Leyden school” originated by Van Praag (see Kapteyn and
Wansbeek 1985, for a survey). In the Leyden school approach, individuals are
asked to state the income they think their own family would need in order to reach
some specified standard of living (e.g., “an absolute minimum”). This is then
adjusted to take account of the fact that higher income families tend to give higher
answers to this question. Other variants ask for responses in terms of satisfaction
levels (rather than incomes), or ask for responses with respect to hypothetical
families rather than the respondents’ own family (Bradbury 1989a).
The validity of the subjective approach relies upon the responses to these
questions accurately reflecting the concept of well-being that is of interest to
researchers and policy makers. The main criticisms of the method involve the
role that other factors, such as living standard expectations, might play in influenc-
ing answers to these questions.
For example, the subjective methods tend to lead to lower estimates of the cost
of children than other methods (Buhmann et al. 1988). One explanation is that this
reflects the fact that parents appreciate the benefits of parenthood, and so they do
not see themselves as needing so much to reach given standard of well-being. If so,
this conclusion would seem to be of relevance to a range of policies. An alternative
reason advanced by Bradbury (1989a) is that people judge their income needs
by referring to people in similar demographic circumstances. If all parents are
relatively poor, then a parent responding to the survey might report themselves
as being well-off simply because they only compare their situation with that of
other parents.
More practically, these indicators are typically only weakly associated with
income and family composition and so require very large samples for accurate
estimation.
50.3.3 Engel Curve Methods
Since the direct costs of children involve household expenditures, a natural

approach to identifying the cost of children is to examine the change in household
expenditure patterns when a child enters the household.
However, this is not as straightforward as simply observing the expenditures on
child-related goods. First, many goods (such as housing) contain substantial public
components which are shared by all household members. Second, even where
goods are close to being purely private (such as many foods which do not require
50 Child Costs 1491
preparation), they are typically purchased at the household level, and so individual
consumption cannot be observed. A rare example of a study that has attempted to
disaggregate such pooled consumption is Bonke and Browning (2011). However,
they are only able to allocate around 12 % of net income directly to individual
consumption.
Finally, and most fundamentally, if household income does not increase, then
increases in expenditures on some goods must be accompanied by reductions
elsewhere. Some method must thus be found to indirectly recover the level of
parental consumption as the number of children in the household varies.
The oldest approach, due to Engel (1857, 1895), still forms the basis of many
recent estimates of the cost of children. Engel observed that the share of household
income (or total expenditure) spent on food declined as household income
increased (now known as Engel’s law). He also noted that for any fixed income,
the share spent on food also increased as household size increased. The “Engel
method” combines these two observations to assert that households with the same
food share have the same living standard. The cost of children is thus estimated by
calculating how much income has to increase in the larger family for their food
share to reduce to the level found in the family with no children.
Nicholson (1976) shows, however, that if children are relatively “food inten-
sive” in their consumption, then the Engel method will overestimate the cost of
children. If a greater share of children’s consumption is in the form of food, then
a family that has been accurately compensated for the additional cost of children
will still spend a greater share of their expenditure on food than they did when
childless. However in this situation, the Engel assumption would assume the
family with children to be worse off. The additional income required by the
family with children to have the same food share would then make them better
off than the childless adults.
Partly in recognition of this, other researchers have developed broader
“iso-prop” methods based on the Engel method but including other goods which
can be considered necessities but which are not particularly child intensive. (For
example, Watts (1967) and Percival and Harding (2007)). The low-income result
from Kakwani’s ELES model (1977) can be seen as example of the Engel model
where household saving is used as the numeraire good (Bradbury 1994).) However,
to remove biases in this fashion requires that we can expand the good basket so
that it is no longer particularly “child intensive.” But unless we actually know the
degree of relative child consumption of different goods, then this must be seen as
an essentially arbitrary adjustment.
50.3.4 The Rothbarth, or Adult Goods Method
In the Rothbarth (1943) method, the amount of household expenditure on adult

goods is used as the indicator of parental welfare. Adult goods are goods which are
only consumed by adults (and where adult consumption can be measured). Exam-
ples commonly used include adult clothing, alcohol, and tobacco.
1492 B. Bradbury
With data on the relationship between adult good consumption and household
income in different family types, the cost of children can then be calculated as the
extra household income required in the family with children which will lead to them
purchasing the same amount of the adult good as in the childless household.
The justification for this approach stems from a model of household welfare
which comprises separate components for adult and child welfare and no public
good price effects. In the larger household, income is divided into adult and child
shares, and then “adult income” is further allocated to the various goods that adults
consume. This separable structure means that when adult-only and adult + children
households have the same level of adult good consumption, they will also have the
same level of total adult consumption – and adult welfare will be equalized. The
change in household income required to ensure this equal level of adult good
consumption can thus be described as the cost of the children for the adults.
It has been argued that the adult good identifying assumption is the most valid of
the various modeling approaches used to estimate the cost of children (Citro and
Michael 1995). It is both transparent and theoretically consistent with simple
models of household welfare. It is thus being used increasingly often, both on its
own and also as part of larger household demand systems (e.g., Bargain et al. 2010).
Nonetheless, the underlying economic model that supports the use of the Rothbarth
approach is restrictive. Deaton et al. (1989) define one condition under which the
Rothbarth method will be a sensible measure of child costs. This requires an assump-
tion of separate costs for adult and child consumption, with the implication that the
impact of children on adult good consumption will act in the same way as a reduction
in the income available for adult consumption. This model also assumes that there are
no public goods in the household – or at least that the consumption of public goods is
the same in the two household types (Bradbury 2008). Again, this implies that the
impact of children on the adult goods must act entirely like an income effect.
If children have price-like effects on household consumption patterns, then
the Rothbarth method will be a biased estimate of the cost of children. This is
a particular issue with respect to household public goods. Because these can be shared
between household members, they are effectively cheaper, and we would expect
the household with children to shift their purchases toward these and away from
nonpublic goods. This means that, like the Engel method, the Rothbarth method
will tend to overestimate the cost of children (Nelson 1992). (Deaton and Muellbauer
(1986) argue that the Rothbarth method might underestimate the cost of children
because of Barten-model type effects. However, the Barten model ignores the
benefits that parents obtain from their children’s consumption and is not suited to
the measurement of the cost of children.)
An extreme example of this is expenditure at the cinema versus home entertain-
ment purchases. We would expect to see some substitution toward home entertain-
ment purchases in the larger household because they entail a lower per-person cost.
If adult movie tickets were to be used as the adult good, then the Rothbarth
approach would judge adults to be worse off because they had reduced their
consumption of the adult good. In fact, they have reduced their consumption
because they are consuming the (close substitute) good of home entertainment.
50 Child Costs 1493
In practice, this issue might not be very important as the goods that are typically
used as adult goods (clothing, alcohol, tobacco) are not particularly close substitutes
with goods that are shared within the household. Of greater impact are the biases
associated with changed leisure and home production relationships in the household.
Having children might change adult leisure from time spent “down the pub” to time
spent with children. If alcohol consumption is used as the adult good, then adults with
children will be judged to have a low living standard and hence the cost of children
overestimated. This suggests that care needs to be taken in the choice of adult goods
to ensure that these preference changes are not an issue. Adult clothing fares better
than alcohol consumption in this regard, though there might be some interactions
with workforce participation (suggesting fathers’ clothing might be a better indicator
than mothers’). Unfortunately, as the scope of adult goods narrows, then the statistical
accuracy of estimates declines. Similarly, for narrowly defined adult goods, econo-
metric concerns about selection bias are more likely to arise. For example, are
married men who like to spend money on clothes more or less likely to have children?
50.3.5 Expenditure Systems
Developing further the concepts of these very basic expenditure models, there is
a large literature using more sophisticated models of household expenditures and
intra-household allocations. These draw upon a number of different identifying
assumptions and data:
• Rothbarth-type assumptions about adult good consumption.
• Variations in consumption patterns as prices change, including the
“Barten” model where the presence of children is modeled as price-like effects.
See Nelson (1992) for a critique of Barten model in the context of child costs.
• An assumption that the cost of children is the same proportion of household
income for rich and poor households. In conjunction with price variation, this
“independence of base” assumption is sufficient to identify consumer equiva-
lence scales (Lewbel 1989; Blackorby and Donaldson 1991) and has been used
in many subsequent papers.
• Other functional form restrictions on household allocations (e.g., Ray 1983).
However, models which are identified via functional form restrictions do not
provide us with much independent evidence of the cost of children. While the
property that the equivalence scale is “independence of base” might be a plausible
approximation for a consumer equivalence scale, this is not sufficient to justify its
use as an identifying assumption.
More recently, Chiappori’s “collective consumption” model (Chiappori 1992;
Vermeulen 2002) has been adapted to address the question of child costs. This
model assumes that household consumption behavior can be described in terms of
Pareto-efficient bargaining between the members (or the parents acting in the
child’s interests). In the variants relevant to the cost of children, this implies
a two-stage budgeting process, with resources allocated to parents versus children
and then subsequently allocated to the consumption of each.
1494 B. Bradbury
When we have information on the factors that influence this intra-household

bargaining (such as individual wage rates), data from a single family type can be
used to describe marginal changes in the within-household distribution of resources
(Bourguignon 1999; Chiappori and Ekland 2009). However, such models have been
of limited relevance to the question of the cost of children because the model
requires information on the external factors that influence resource allocations to
children (Dunbar et al. 2010).
However, this model can be extended to also include data on the consumption
patterns of households without children (Browning et al. 2006). This requires the
incorporation of Rothbarth-type assumptions about preferences for adult consumption
being stable across family types. As such, it is sensitive to the issues discussed above
of identifying those adult goods where preferences are stable across family types (and
don’t interact with leisure) and where statistical relationships with household income
can be clearly estimated. This more comprehensive structure, however, does provide
a framework for taking account of the substitution effects described above and is likely
to be a fruitful area of research in future years.
Apps and Rees (2001) and Bradbury (2008) use this type of model to estimate
the full costs of children (including indirect as well as parental leisure costs along
with direct costs). Adult leisure is used as the identifying adult good, and in
principle this approach can also be used to separately measure the costs of children
for the mother and father.
Overall, however, it seems inevitable that estimates of the cost of children must
continue to rely upon strong assumptions about both the determinants of household
behavior and the factors that should be taken into account in forming evaluations of
relative well-being. As the US National Research Academy Panel on Poverty and
Family Assistance noted, “For the more complex schemes, the identifying
assumptions are far from clear, which means that it is difficult to know exactly
what is being measured or whether the concept is a sensible one” (Citro and
Michael 1995, p. 174).
50.3.6 Surveys of the Estimates of the Cost of Children
This uncertainty about the validity of the methods used to estimate the costs of
children is a recurring theme in surveys of the literature. Whiteford, in his 1985
Australian survey (which also covered international research), concluded that
“no set of equivalence scales presently in use in Australia can be said to combine
theoretical, empirical and consensual validity” (p. 130). As a guide to policy, he
nonetheless suggested the use of an average of the surveyed research results.
Relative to a couple with no children, this implied an additional cost for the first
child of 20 % (based on the international research). The costs for two and three child
households were 38 % and 59 %.
Buhmann et al. (1988) surveyed 20 estimates for a number of countries, mainly
calculated in the 1970s and 1980s. (They also considered the family size relativities
inherent in a number of official social assistance policies. These are discussed in the
50 Child Costs 1495
next section.) They summarized their results in terms of the elasticity of the equiva-
lence scale with respect to the number of people in the household. For expenditure-
based scales, they estimated an average elasticity of 0.4 and for scales based on
subjective estimates of need an elasticity of 0.24. In terms of the additional cost of
children relative to the cost of a couple, the elasticity of 0.4 implies additional costs of
18 %, 32 %, and 44 % for 1, 2, and 3 children and the second elasticity implies costs
of 4 %, 7 %, and 9 %. They argue that this elasticity or power relationship fits the data
very well. This implies, by definition, that the cost of the second child will be less than
that of the first child and so on.
More recently, Letablier et al. (2009) survey 16 different European studies
(including 41 different estimates) of the direct costs of children. The studies
surveyed use a variety of methods but with variants of the Engel, Rothbarth, and
subjective methods most prominent. Unlike Buhmann et al., they do not find any
systematic differences between the different methods.
Across these studies, the median estimate of the cost of the first child is 24 %
of the cost of a couple, and the median estimate for the cost of two children is
53 %. (The interquartile ranges for these two estimates are 20–29 % and 42–59 %,
respectively.) That is, the per-child cost is roughly the same in one and two-child
families. Economies of scale, however, are evident in the studies which have
estimates for three children (69 %).
The estimates they survey typically show higher costs for adolescent children –
though direct costs prior to the teenage years appear to be relatively constant across
age. Similarly, other surveys by Whiteford (1985) and Gray (2007) also find direct
costs increasing with child age.
All these surveys are critical of the assumptions used in the studies estimating
the costs of children. The theoretical identifying assumptions are either non-
transparent or are transparent but likely to be invalid in important respects.
Following Whiteford’s (1985) lead, it is tempting to simply use the average of
the discredited approaches as a best estimate. However, while this might help
reduce any problems of imprecision in estimation (due to small sample sizes in
any particular study), it does not resolve the fundamental issues of identification.
In a research area with relatively arbitrary identifying assumptions and weak
econometric identification, it is arguable that the main reason that estimates tend
to yield similar results is because of publication and prepublication bias where
authors place less effort into revising results which are close to generally accepted
community standards of relative needs.
Nonetheless, some adjustment for child costs is required in policy, research and
administration. The US National Academy study into the poverty line thus con-
cluded that:
We do not believe that any of the published methods for adjusting poverty thresholds
provide a fully defensible rationale for calculating the kind of equivalence scale that is
needed for different family types. But we do believe that the poverty line must be adjusted
for differences in family sizes and composition; we also believe that some correction is
better than no correction; and we believe that it is possible to do better than scaling in
proportion to the number of people in the family. (Citro and Michael 1995, p. 175)
1496 B. Bradbury
Their solution was to propose a simple smoothed scale based on the number of
adults (A) and children (K) in the household, e ¼ (A + pK)f. They recommend
values of 0.7 for p and between 0.65 and 0.75 for f. These values were chosen to be
broadly consistent with US research using the Rothbarth approach, which they
argue is the most defensible identifying strategy. In addition,
We believe that the general form of the proposed scale satisfies two critical criteria: it
recognizes the differences between children and adults and adjusts for scale economies
with increasing family size in a consistent manner. In addition, it is easy to explain
and implement. Finally, the use of a scale formula of this type acknowledges the
inevitable arbitrariness in adjusting the poverty thresholds for different family circum-
stances rather than disguising it in opaque econometric analysis. (Citro and Michael 1995,
p. 178)
Taking the midpoint value of p ¼ 0.7 and f ¼ 0.7 and expressing relative to
a couple with no children, this yields relative costs of 23 %, 45 %, and 65 % for
couples with 1, 2, and 3 children.
50.4 Tax-Transfer Policy and the Cost of Children
There are many social policies that seek to influence the living standards of children
and their families. The direct provision of services (e.g., education, health) is often
the most direct way to target assistance directly to children. (C.f. Fig. 50.1 above.
See Bargain and Donni (2011) for a formal analysis of efficient targeting.) How-
ever, most resources consumed by children are mediated via their family environ-
ment. In this context, tax and transfer policies have an important role to play in
supporting both children’s and parents’ living standards. An understanding of the
cost of children is often, but not always, relevant to such policies.
Three key policy objectives have been advanced in the literature as being partic-
ularly related to the cost of children:
• The promotion of “horizontal” equity between families with and without
children
• Poverty alleviation in different family types
• The enhancement of child well-being
(The cost of children is also indirectly relevant to other policy concerns such as
fertility, labour market participation and gender equality).
Unfortunately, despite its widespread use in tax-transfer policy debate, the many
different definitions of the term “horizontal equity” make its use more confusing than
informative. In much of the existing literature, horizontal equity with respect to family
size is defined as being achieved when tax-transfer policy takes account of the
additional costs of children (e.g., Balcer and Sadka 1986). This approach takes children
as being both exogenous and not a contributor to parental well-being and seeks to
estimate the income subsidy required to ensure that parents and nonparents will have
the same standard of living (when they have the same level of private income).
However, if children are viewed as contributing to parental well-being, then the
equity considerations are not so straightforward. More general approaches to
50 Child Costs 1497
horizontal equity such as that outlined by Atkinson and Stiglitz (1976) are based on
the idea that constraints rather than preferences should guide equity considerations.
From this perspective, if children are choices rather than constraints, then the costs
of children do not automatically raise equity issues with respect to parental welfare
at least. (Other definitions are also used. Muellbauer and van de Ven (2004)
maintain the assumption of exogeneity of family composition but define horizontal
equity as being achieved when people who have the same pretax equivalent income
also have the same posttax equivalent income. Balcer and Sadker (1986), on the
other hand, define pretax equals as those with the same unequivalized pretax
incomes. For nonzero pretax incomes, these will imply different definitions of
horizontal equity.)
Nonetheless, even if we recognize that children are (generally) chosen, there
are several reasons why the costs of children may be relevant to tax-transfer policy.
50.4.1 The Life Cycle Costs of Children
The first reason is a recasting of the horizontal equity argument in an efficiency

context. Even though “parenthood” might be seen as a consumption good chosen by
parents, it is best seen as a lifetime benefit rather than simply a benefit confined to
the periods when children are coresident with their parents. People can anticipate
being parents before they have children and are still parents after children have
moved out.
However, the costs of raising children are concentrated in one particular stage of
the parents’ lives. Transfers to families with children in the household may thus
assist in smoothing the costs of children over the life course. In the absence of any
private consumption smoothing and if welfare is symmetric across periods, then
compensation based on the cost of children will allow an equalization of parental
welfare across their lives. In turn, if within-period welfare exhibits diminishing
returns to consumption (the conventional assumption), then parental lifetime
welfare will be maximized.
Such reasoning is relevant to the full cost of children, including direct expendi-
ture costs, costs due to lost income, and the cost of lost leisure when raising
children, though, as noted above, it might be convenient to identify separate policy
instruments for each of these. The income and leisure costs, in particular, might be
different for mothers and fathers.
In general, opportunities for private consumption smoothing are likely to be
greater for higher than for lower income families. Even for high-income families,
though, market opportunities for borrowing are limited and housing markets are
not conducive to increasing child-related expenditure during the family formation
years. Nonetheless, many will be able to borrow or receive assistance from the
previous generation. Lower income families have fewer opportunities for this. The
rationale for such life course smoothing is thus stronger for lower income families.
The assumption of symmetric preferences over time is plausible but also
contestable. For example, if younger adults are healthier than older adults, it
1498 B. Bradbury
might be considered reasonable that the costs of children (particularly the

nonfinancial costs such as lost leisure and sleep) be concentrated on the child-
rearing stage of life – and so there is no need to compensate families for this. More
generally, it is conceivable that a social norm might be established that the period of
child-raising is expected to be one of relative hardship. (The implications of this for
child rather than parental welfare are discussed below.)
Finally, it should be noted that this is an argument for within-life course
redistribution. It provides no grounds for distribution from people who are never
parents to those who are parents at some stage in the life. The policy instrument of
family-related transfers to parents can only approximate a within-life course
redistribution.
For all these reasons, even though the costs of children are relevant to life course
consumption smoothing, we would expect only a loose association between actual
costs and the resulting income support policies.
Nonetheless, the fact that these issues do apply across most of the population
can provide justification for some form of “middle-class welfare” for all
families with children. As we will see in Sect. 50.4, most rich countries do
indeed provide some support for middle-class families through the tax and
transfer system.
50.4.2 Poverty Alleviation
For poverty alleviation policies, the relevance of child costs is more straightfor-
ward. These policies are concerned first and foremost with alleviating current
poverty, rather than maximizing lifetime welfare. As such, it makes sense to
consider children as exogenous and to alleviate parental poverty by increasing
income support payments in line with the costs of children. This ensures that the
effective consumption level of parents will be brought up the level of comparable
nonparents.
Typically, poverty is considered in terms of commodity consumption and does
not include considerations of available leisure or indeed the benefits of parenthood.
So, in this context, the expenditure or direct costs of children are the most relevant
measure of the costs of children.
50.4.3 Child Well-Being
Consistent with the concept of child cost being a cost to parents, the above consid-
erations focus on parental welfare. But child supplements are often justified in terms
of their impact on child welfare. Is the concept of child cost relevant to this question?
Clearly, transfers to families with children are likely to benefit children. To
a first approximation, additional payments to families will be allocated in much the
same way as existing income – that is, benefiting all family members (at least on
average). However, to draw a direct link between child welfare and the costs of
50 Child Costs 1499
children requires additional assumptions about the relationship between child and
parental welfare.
One assumption is the “Panglossian” assumption discussed above. This implies an
acceptance of a democratic view that child economic welfare should be defined as
equal to that of their parents (at least on average). If this is the case, then additional
payments to families equal to the extra costs of children will both equalize the welfare
of parents and nonparents (other things constant) but also equalize child welfare with
that of nonparent adults. Expressing this in the more concrete case of poverty
analysis, this suggests that the costs of children should be incorporated into poverty
lines for families of different sizes and that, in a given family, all members can
reasonably be defined to have the same poverty status (poor or not poor).
Even if this assumption is not held, it nonetheless provides a useful reference
point against which to evaluate actual transfers to families with children.
50.4.4 Costs Versus Social Preferences: Variations in Costs with

Family Size
Even with respect to policy objectives such as poverty alleviation, where the link
between the cost of children and income policy seems clearest, there are reasons
why policy might diverge from costs – even, moreover, if we confine our interest
to equity considerations. One example that illustrates the disjunction between
household choices and social welfare is with respect to the cost of children in
large families.
In their survey summarizing the costs of families of different sizes, Buhmann
et al. (1988) found that a simple one-parameter power function fitted most estimates
very well. This implies that the cost of an additional child declines with family size,
and this has been used as an assumption by a wide range of researchers (e.g., Citro
and Michael 1995). (Though this is not always found in empirical research, as the
surveys of research results above suggested.)
The theoretical explanation for this declining marginal cost is that there are
many fixed costs within the household which must be met irrespective of the
number of children. Similarly, many commodities can be shared between the
children of the household (e.g., bedrooms being shared and clothes and toys
being passed down to younger children).
Yet despite this theoretical consensus of a declining cost of children in large
families, most income support and family supplement policies provide the same
amount for each child and in some cases even greater marginal amounts for children
in large families. Several explanations can be advanced for this divergence between
theory and practice.
The first two rest on the idea that income policy might provide less than full
compensation for the costs of children. One stems from the difference between
income and consumption. Research on consumer equivalence scales typically
considers the allocation of consumption (or expenditure) within the household
while welfare policy provides income to households. (An exception is the research
1500 B. Bradbury
using subjective methods, where subjective views on living standards are usually
assessed relative to income rather than expenditure.) Bradbury (1989b) argues that
families reliant upon income support are often able to consume more than the
income support provision – either because they are able to draw down on savings or
have other supplementary income sources. This additional consumption is unlikely
to increase with family size, and so the relative consumption level for the larger
family will be smaller than the income relativity inherent in the income support
system. Having a constant child supplement to income can thus lead to an outcome
where household consumption increases at a decreasing rate as family size
increases.
This reasoning can be generalized to any case where supplements to children are
inadequate. For example, consider the situation where:
• There is a declining true marginal cost of a child
• This pattern is replicated in the child supplement paid
• The supplement is only some fixed fraction of the true marginal cost
Together, this implies those in large families will have lower welfare levels than
those in small families (holding private incomes constant). A constant per-child
supplement can thus help offset the cumulative inadequacy of benefits for large
families.
This reasoning is strongest for payments to middle-income families which are
designed to only partially offset the cost of children. As discussed above, this might
arise because it is assumed that middle-income families can undertake some life
cycle income smoothing privately. Unless the ability to dissave is greater in large
families, larger families with the same income will be more disadvantaged.
Finally, an increasing per-child supplement can be justified if policy makers care
more about children than adults. Standard economic models of the household imply
that additional payments to families with children will increase the average
consumption of all members. In families with many children, however, the share
of both existing and additional resources going to children will be greater – and so
additional supplements to large families will be more closely targeted to children
rather than adults.
50.5 Social Assistance and the Cost of Children
Given the reasons outlined above, it is not surprising that most rich nations provide
social assistance or social insurance supplements to low-income families with
children, as well as providing transfers or tax concessions to middle-income
families with children. How much is provided through these two mechanisms?
In their 1988 paper, Buhmann et al. surveyed the relativities inherent in either
social assistance programs or in the “official” poverty lines that were either in use or
proposed for use in eight OECD countries. (Australia, Canada, Germany, Sweden,
Switzerland, the Netherlands, the USA, and the UK.) As noted above, they sum-
marized these in terms of elasticities with respect to family size (ignoring age and
other characteristics). They found these “program” scales to cluster around an
50 Child Costs 1501
elasticity of 0.56, implying that a family of four requires an income 1.47 times that
of a couple. (The Netherlands scale was substantially lower (elasticity of 0.35) and
the German scale higher (0.67).)
More recent policy modeling by the OECD now permits a more comprehensive
summary of these program scales across most OECD nations. Some summary
results from their modeling are presented below. These results show the relative
net incomes of couples with two children compared to none, for three different
private income situations – when they are receiving social assistance payments,
when they are eligible for social insurance payments, and when one parent is
receiving an average wage and the other parent 2/3 of the average wage.
These calculations are calculated using the following set of assumptions: The
children, when present, are assumed aged 4 and 6. The policies are those in place at
1 July 2009. Incomes are assumed stable over time. The average wage is defined
(where possible) as the average full-year full-time wage for adult workers in ISIC
industry sectors C to K; overtime and regular cash supplements are included. Only
cash benefits are included – though food stamps are included in the USA. Childcare
and maternity benefits are not included. Social insurance benefits assume age 40
and a minimum contribution record. Benefits are paid based on the relevant income
test. Where countries have local variations in social assistance rates, an attempt is
made to estimate “typical” rates. Housing benefits are included assuming that the
families live in private rental accommodation and are paying a rent equal to 20 % of
the gross average wage.
The relative payments to families with and without children are summarized in
Table 50.1. The first two columns show relative incomes when families have no
earnings. In one column, they are assumed eligible for social assistance payments
only, and in the other, unemployment insurance.
The final column shows the relative net incomes when the couple consists
of an average wage earner together with an earner receiving 2/3 of the
average wage.
Starting with this final column, we can see that the net of effect of tax conces-
sions and cash benefits to middle-income families with children is to raise their
income by between one and 12 %. Most countries fall in the three to seven percent
range, with Austria, Germany, Belgium, and Slovenia supplementing incomes by
10 % or more. These subsidies are all much less than most estimates of the
additional cost of children. This is consistent with a consumption smoothing role
for family payments and the greater opportunities for private smoothing mecha-
nisms in higher income families. Moreover, there are other motivations for
transfers to families with children which do not refer directly to the cost of children
(e.g., fertility objectives, child welfare considerations).
It is for low-income families, however, that payments are more likely to be
intended to meet the full additional costs of children, and this is reflected in
Table 50.1. For the most part, unemployment insurance payments increase by
a smaller proportion when couples have children than do social assistance
payments – as these payments are mainly based on previous contribution records
rather than estimates of needs. Exceptions to this are countries such as Australia
1502 B. Bradbury
Table 50.1 Ratio of net income of couples with two children to couples with none, 2009
1 earner at 100 % of
No earnings AW and 1 at 67 %
Social Unemployment
Country assistance (rank) insurance (rank) (rank)
Australia 1.52 (10) 1.52 (2) 1.05 (18)
Austria 1.52 (9) 1.43 (6) 1.10 (4)
Belgium 1.39 (15) 1.21 (16) 1.10 (3)
Canada 1.90 (2) 1.47 (4) 1.05 (16)
Czech 1.35 (18) 1.11 (23) 1.06 (14)
Republic
Denmark 1.43 (12) 1.43* (7) 1.07 (7)
Finland 1.38 (17) 1.36 (9) 1.05 (15)
France 1.39 (14) 1.17 (20) 1.07 (8)
Germany 1.61 (6) 1.48 (3) 1.11 (2)
Ireland 1.29 (21) 1.29* (14) 1.07 (5)
Italy 1.26 (15) 1.06 (10)
Japan 1.38 (16) 1.38* (8) 1.03 (22)
Korea 1.59 (7) 1.11* (24) 1.01 (25)
Netherlands 1.18 (24) 1.21 (17) 1.07 (6)
New Zealand 1.34 (19) 1.34 (10) 1.03 (23)
Norway 1.41 (13) 1.19* (18) 1.04 (19)
Poland 1.49 (11) 1.14 (22) 1.05 (17)
Portugal 1.74 (4) 1.08 (25) 1.04 (21)
Slovak 1.59 (8) 1.17 (21) 1.07 (9)
Republic
Slovenia 1.86 (3) 1.45 (5) 1.12 (1)
Spain 1.20 (23) 1.30 (13) 1.03 (24)
Sweden 1.31 (20) 1.31 (12) 1.06 (12)
Switzerland 1.21 (22) 1.32 (11) 1.06 (13)
United 1.70 (5) 1.70 (1) 1.04 (20)
Kingdom
United States 3.44 (1) 1.18 (19) 1.06 (11)
Source: Calculated from OECD benefits and wages www.oecd.org/els/social/workincentives. For
ratios denoted by *, the social assistance rate for either couples with or without children is greater
than the unemployment insurance rate, and so this has been used in the calculation of the ratio.
Social assistance rates for Italy are not shown as these payments are negligible
and the UK, where there is effectively just one system, and Spain, Switzerland,
and the Netherlands.
Focusing on social assistance payments, the Netherlands has the lowest ratio
of payments. In this country, couples with two children only receive 18 %
more than couples without children. The USA (Michigan) has by far the highest
ratio – because couples without children receive negligible income support. Overall,
the most common ratios of payment are between 1.3 and 1.45 (9 of the 23 countries).
50 Child Costs 1503
40
y = 1.16x + 4.28
35 IRL
DNK
30 GBR
NOR
Social assistance for C+2 (000 USD)
JPN
DEU NLD
25 AUS CHE
FIN
AUT
SWE
20 CAN KOR
NZL BEL
SVN FRA
15 USA
PRT
CZE
10 ESP
SVK
POL
5
0
0 5 10 15 20 25 30 35 40
Social assistance for C+0 (000 USD)
Fig. 50.2 Social assistance payment rates for families with and without children. (Source: As for
Table 50.1 (Italy excluded). The solid gray reference line is drawn along the median ratio (1.42).
The dotted line is the OLS regression line)
This includes most of the Western European countries. The median ratio is 1.42, not
far from the 1.47 result in Buhmann et al.’s (1988) survey. With the exception of New
Zealand, the English-speaking countries all have above-median ratios.
As the US case exemplifies, these payment ratios depend upon both the
numerator and denominator. So it is instructive to disaggregate these further.
This is done in Fig. 50.2 for social assistance payments. Here payments to
couples with no children are shown on the horizontal axis and payments to
families with two children on the vertical axis (both in PPP adjusted US dollars).
Overall, there is clearly a strong cross-national positive association between the
level of social assistance for these two family types (correlation ¼ 0.94). This
reflects both different national incomes and also different political environments
with respect to redistribution.
1504 B. Bradbury
If every country had the same relative net benefits for families with children, they
would all lie up along a single ray from the origin, such as the ray through the median
ratio shown on the figure. In fact, the line of best fit (dotted) has a positive intercept
(significantly different from zero, even if the USA is excluded) with a slope that is not
significantly different from one. So we could summarize the relationship as Countries
tend to pay couples with children the same as couples with no children, plus an
additional amount (rather than an additional proportion). Averaging the differences
in payment rates implies an additional supplement of 6,600 USD (or 6,400 USD if we
exclude the USA. However, the (dotted) line of best fit in Fig. 50.2 does have a slope
above one, even if not significantly so. It implies that couples with two children
receive 16 % more than couples without, plus an additional 4,300 USD (95 %
confidence intervals of (0.97, 1.35) and (1,300–7,200), respectively).)
The implications of this pattern are twofold. First, there is less proportionate cross-
national variation in payment rates for couples with children – possibly reflecting
greater international consensus on minimum standards for children than for adults.
Secondly, part of the reason why some countries have higher relative payments
to families with children is because they have less generous systems overall, and
less generous systems tend to give more weight to families with children. The USA
is the key example of this while the UK (GBR in the figure) can be seen as the
exception that “proves” this rule – in the sense that there is a clear explanation as to
why the rule does not apply in this case. In the UK, there was a strong political
commitment over the last two decades to the reduction of child poverty, and this
was in part achieved by focusing benefit increases on families with children.
50.6 Conclusions
Having children imposes substantial time monetary and costs on parents. These
costs are concentrated at a particular stage of the life cycle (and may be born
unevenly by the mother and father). Even though parents may choose to become
parents, these costs are of direct relevance to policies addressing parental well-
being and are also indirectly relevant to the measurement of child well-being.
Estimating these costs, however, is far from straightforward. One cannot simply
observe the patterns of household expenditures on children because these expendi-
tures are constrained by household income. Additional assumptions are required to
identify the impact that having children has on parental living standards. Many of
the methods used in the literature require implausible and/or nontransparent
assumptions. Other methods, such as the adult good, or Rothbarth approach,
which is both transparent and plausible, have strong data requirements and are
unlikely to lead to precise estimates.
It is not surprising therefore that a recurring theme of reviews of this literature is
one of inconclusiveness. To the extent to which there is any consensus in the
literature, it would appear that the average additional direct cost for the first
child of a couple in rich nations is somewhere between one-fifth and one quarter
the costs of the couple. That is, if household expenditure were this much higher
50 Child Costs 1505
when there was a child in the household, then the adults in the average couple
would have the same commodity consumption level as those without children.
The role of public goods in the household suggests that the marginal costs for
additional children should be less than this, though empirical estimates do not
always find this.
The central importance of intra-household allocation patterns on individual living
standards means that research into the cost of children will continue. Given the
central role of identifying assumptions, one fruitful area of future research is likely
to lie in the testing of budget standards type assumptions (or “technical” knowledge)
about home consumption technologies against data on household expenditure behav-
ior. The economic model of “collective consumption” and intra-household allocation
provides a sound footing on which to build future research.
Nonetheless, though it would be convenient to have firm information on the
costs of children to feed into the policy debate, this information is only one of
many considerations relevant to family income policy. Even for antipoverty poli-
cies, where information on the expenditure costs of children clearly has direct
relevance, other considerations are typically given equal or greater consideration.
These include issues of employment and fertility incentives and socio/political
views about the relative deserts of adults and children for state assistance. These
might explain the wide cross-national variation in supplementary payments to
families with children observed in the social assistance policies in rich nations.
Nonetheless in forming normative views about the equity or otherwise of these
policies, an understanding of the cost of children will continue to be of central
importance.
Acknowledgments This review was part supported by the Australian Government Department of
Families, Housing, Community Services and Indigenous Affairs (FaHCSIA) and by the Australian
Research Council (DP0878643). The opinions, comments and/or analysis expressed in this
document are those of the author and do not necessarily represent the views of the Minister for
Families, Housing, Community Services and Indigenous Affairs or FaHCSIA, and cannot be taken
in any way as expressions of Government policy.
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Child Labor and Children’s Economic
Contributions 51
Scott Lyon and Furio Camillo Rosati
51.1 Introduction
The most recent ILO global estimates underscore the scale of the remaining
challenge posed by child labor. The ILO estimates that there were some 153 million
children aged 5–14 years in child labor in 2008, accounting for almost 13 % of this
age group. Children in hazardous forms of work threatening children’s health,
safety, or morals made up over one-third of total child laborers.
Child labor constitutes not only a serious rights violation but also an important
barrier to national development. A growing body of evidence indicates that it is
associated with negative health and educational consequences in childhood and
later in life, exacting a heavy toll on the individuals concerned and on society as
a whole. While there is no specific Millennium Development Goal (MDG) on child
labor, progress toward a range of other MDGs will be much more difficult in the
absence of success in combating child labor.
The concept of child labor emerging from a long history of public debate was
that of work activities that should not be performed by children out of concern not
only for the children themselves but also for other workers. Debate on child labor
was motivated by a desire to protect children from the physical and developmental
threats they faced in the workplace, as well as by a desire to protect adult workers
from being replaced by or from having their wages suppressed by child workers
(Grimsrud 2007).
Both motivations played an important role in the process of defining child labor
since the first regulations in the early nineteenth century. The first reports about
S. Lyon (*)
UCW program, Rome, Italy
F.C. Rosati
Faculty of Economics, University of Rome “Tor Vergata”, Rome, Italy

1510 S. Lyon and F.C. Rosati
children sweeping chimneys and working in mines raised concern about children’s
heath. The introduction of compulsory education raised concern about children
forgoing education because of work. But internationally, it was the concern for the
labor market effects that drove the first standard-setting agreements on child labor:
there was broad consensus that children should not take jobs from adults locally or
abroad and hence international standards were set for minimum working age.
The negative labor market effects of child labor have been dealt with by several
economists as well as historians. As noted by Jane Humphries (2002), the reduction
of child labor in industrialized countries around 1900 was not primarily driven by
technology, but rather by the social pact involving trade unions, employers, and
others calling for limiting the labor market to adults. The aim was to improve adult
wages and working conditions by reducing the supply of cheap child laborers.
The work of Basu and Van (1998) describe in a theoretical manner the “added
worker effect” that causes the negative social impacts of child labor.
Minimum age regulations were at the forefront of the international labor debates
particularly during the days of liberal trade regimes and the birth of the labor
movement in Europe in the last part of the nineteenth century. In 1890, Germany
called the first international conference on minimum working age. These efforts led
to the formation of the ILO in 1919 and the adoption of the first child labor
convention (ILO Convention No. 5 on minimum age in industry). A number
of ILO conventions followed and, in 1973, a general labor market minimum standard
was adopted (ILO Convention No. 138) (C138). The age limits set forth in C138 still
form the basis for national and international legal standards in this area.
The concern that child labor might hamper education created a link between
child labor regulation and school attendance from the earliest legislation. National
regulations on child labor are often linked historically to the introduction of compul-
sory education. For a number of European and non-European countries, the decline in
child labor appears correlated in time with the introduction of compulsory education.
In Norway, the first labor code of 1892 (fabrikkloven) included a ban on hiring
children in factories and sweatshops who were under 14 years of age and had not
completed compulsory education. This was directly linked to education by making
the local school authorities responsible for overseeing that the ban on child labor was
observed (Grimsrud and Melchior 1998).
It was in 1989, through the drafting of the UN Convention for the Rights of
the Child (CRC), that child labor was clearly defined not according to the activity
but according to the effect of the activity on the child. This laid the ground for
a renewed understanding of child labor and a renewed fight against it. It is also
through the adoption of the CRC that the international definition of child labor is
clearly linked to the individual rights of the child. This new approach was
influential in the adoption by the ILO of Convention No. 182 (C182) on the worst
forms of child labor in 1999. This ILO convention prioritizes the subgroup of child
laborers that is in the worst forms of child labor.
The remainder of this chapter provides a brief overview of child labor and
children’s economic contributions. It first presents a statistical profile of child
labor across a broad set of developing countries where data are available from
51 Child Labor and Children’s Economic Contributions 1511
representative household surveys. It next looks at evidence relating to children’s

role and contribution in the measured economy. It then addresses how premature
involvement in the labor market can impact on the economic contribution and
employment outcomes during adolescence and early adulthood. The chapter con-
cludes with a discussion of policy options for accelerating progress toward the
elimination of child labor.
51.2 Statistical Profile of Child Labor
How widespread is child labor? The first graph (Fig. 51.1) presents country-specific
estimates of children in economic activity from a broad set of countries where data
are available from representative household surveys. Although differences in
reference dates and survey methods mean that comparisons should be treated
with caution, the graph nonetheless points to the important role that
children continue to play in production in many countries.
The general regional patterns evident from Fig. 51.1 are consistent with the
broader regional and global estimates of child labor produced by the International
Labour Organization (ILO 2010). ILO estimates show that rates of children’s
involvement in economic activity are highest in sub-Saharan Africa followed
by Asia and the Pacific and by Latin America and the Caribbean. The estimates
indicate that it is in populous Asia, however, where the highest absolute numbers of
children in economic activity are found. While the average level of child economic
activity is lower in Latin America, the degree of variation is especially high in the
region – from Fig. 51.1 it can be seen that Bolivia, Haiti, and Peru stand out as
particular challenges.
Not captured by the static picture presented in Fig. 51.1 is the direction in which
countries are moving in terms of children’s economic activity, that is, whether
a higher or lower proportion of children are working over time. ILO global child
labor estimates for the period 2004–2008 paint a mixed picture in this regard. They
show a significant reduction in the proportion of children in economic activity in
Asia and the Pacific, but only a slight reduction in Latin America and the
Caribbean. In sub-Saharan Africa, children in economic activity actually increased
in both relative and absolute terms from 2004 to 2008 (ILO 2010).
The few countries where comparable child labor estimates are available for
a longer time period indicate that children’s role in production can fluctuate in
accordance with changes in macroeconomic and social conditions (UCW 2010).
This finding argues against complacency even where countries have succeeded
in achieving low levels of child labor, and is particularly relevant in light of the
recent global economic crisis and current period of global economic instability.
Although few data are available to date on the impact of the crisis, theory and past
experience suggests that it could affect child labor in a number of ways. A reduction
in living standards, greater difficulties in obtaining loans, and reduced remittances
from family members abroad are together likely to force more vulnerable
households to send their children to work to help make ends meet. Reduced public
a Percentage of children in economic activity b Distribution by industrial sector(2) c Distribution by employment

status(3)
Employment only Employment and school Agriculture Manufacturing Services
Self Wage Unpaid family
Yemen, Rep.
MENA
Syrian Arab Republic

Iraq
Egypt, Arab Rep.
Vietnam
Thailand
Asia
Philippines
Mongolia
Indonesia
India
Bangladesh
Ukraine
Turkeyh
East and Central Europe
Tajikistan
Serbia
Moldova
Macedonia, FYR
Kyrgyz Republic
Kazakhstan
Bosnia and Herzegovina
Belarus
Azerbaijan
Albania
Trinidad and Tobago

Nicaragua
Mexico
Latin America and Caribbean
Peru
Penama
Jamaica
Guatemala
EI Salvador
Honduras
Haiti
Ecuador
Colombia
Chile
Brazil
Bolivia
Argentina
Zambia
Uganda
Togo
Rwanda
Niger
Tanzania
Swaziland
Sudang
Somalia
Sierra Leone
Senegal
Sub Saharan Africa
Mali
Malawi
Madagascar
Liberia
Lesotho
Kenya
Guinea-Bissau
Ghana
Gambia, The
Ethiopia
Côte d’lvoire
Congo, Rep
Chad
Central African Republic
Cameroon
Burundi
Burkina Faso
Benin
Angolab
0 10 20 30 40 50 60 70 0 10 20 30 40 50 60 70 80 90 100 0 10 20 30 40 50 60 70 80 90 100
percent percent percent
Fig. 51.1 Children in economic activity, 7–14 years age group, most recent year by country.
(Source: UCW calculations based on household survey datasets)
spending and cutbacks in international aid flows are likely to limit social safety
nets, also increasing families’ dependence on child labor for household survival
(Koseleci and Rosati 2009).
How does child labor interact with children’s schooling? This question is one
of the most important in determining the long-term impact of early work experi-
ence. Clearly, if the demands of work mean that children are denied schooling
altogether or are less able to perform in the classroom, then these children will not
acquire the education necessary for more gainful employment upon entering adult-
hood. This, in turn, means former child laborers as adults are more likely to be poor
and more likely to have to depend on their own children’s labor, thus continuing the
child labor-poverty cycle.
Figure 51.1 illustrates the fact that child laborers are commonly also students,
particularly in countries outside the sub-Saharan Africa region. But the fact
that many child laborers go to school does not mean that they are not disadvantaged
relative to non-child laborers in terms of school attendance – indeed, fewer child
laborers attend school than non-child laborers in almost all countries where data are
available. Nor does it mean that child laborers in school are not disadvantaged
educationally. There is a growing body of evidence indicating that work
interferes with academic performance when school and work overlap, underscoring
that merely getting child laborers into the classroom is insufficient to overcoming
their educational disadvantage. (Student test scores from the first Comparative
International Study of Language, Mathematics and Associated Factors (FCIS),
for example, show a strong and consistent negative relationship between child
labor and test scores across the nine countries and the two achievement
tests included in the survey).
51.3 Children’s Economic Contribution
Detailed breakdowns of child labor by its various defining features are necessary to
understanding the nature of child labor as well as to identifying the role of child
laborers in the broader economy. A number of broad distinctions are useful in this
context. Within economic activity, distinctions by industry based on the Interna-
tional Standard Industrial Classification of All Economic Activities (ISIC Rev. 3)
provide a standardized picture of the nature of children’s involvement in the
measured economy. A distinction by employment status (e.g., wage, self-employed,
unpaid family work) can offer additional insight into how children’s economic
production is carried out.
The second and third graphs in Fig. 51.1 disaggregate children’s economic
activity by industrial sector and employment status, respectively. The second
graph suggests that the sectoral composition of child labor varies somewhat across
regions – agriculture accounts for the overwhelming majority of child laborers in
the sub-Saharan Africa, whereas both agriculture and services are important com-
ponents of child labor in Latin America. Manufacturing represents only a minor
component of child labor in the two regions.
The third graph in Fig. 51.1 points to the overwhelming importance of nonwage
informal work, primarily within a family context, across all countries and regions.
This is significant because nonformal family work typically lies outside national
legislation concerning child labor, is not covered by formal employment contracts,
and is beyond the reach of most workplace inspection systems. It is also significant in
attempting to estimate the value of children’s production: the fact that most do not
work for a wage makes it much more difficult to measure their contribution to family
income or their importance in the broader economy (see discussion below). Very few
child laborers, on the other hand, are engaged in more formal waged work.
For a more complete picture of children’s role in production, additional infor-
mation is needed on core work tasks or activities, beyond the framework of
standardized international labor force classifications. This is because standardized
classifications, designed primarily with the adult labor force in mind, may fail to
adequately reflect the work actually performed by children in a specific setting,
particularly when collected at only a general (3-digit) level. A child having to spend
his or her day scavenging in a refuse disposal site, for example, might be catego-
rized as in “recycling of nonmetal waste and scrap” (ISIC code no. 3720) or as
a “garbage collector” (ISCO code no. 9161), both only very partial reflections of the
child’s actual work activity. Better information on children in hazardous work and
other worst forms of child labor is particularly needed, as this is the subgroup of
child laborers whose rights are most compromised and whose well-being is most
threatened.
Not addressed in the statistics presented in Fig. 51.1 is the relative importance of
children’s economic contributions in a given sector. Descriptive evidence from
sub-Saharan Africa suggests that child laborers are often a major component of the
overall workforce in the agricultural sector in particular. In Cameroon, for instance,
children constitute one-fourth of all agricultural workers and log almost one-fifth of
total weekly working hours in the sector. In some agricultural subsectors in
Cameroon, the role of children is even more important: in animal husbandry,
children represent over half of the total workforce. What is more, evidence from
Cameroon suggests that children’s role in agriculture is not limited to family-based
subsistence farming. Indeed, Cameroonian children play an equally important role
in commercial agricultural production (UCW 2011).
More robust evidence from Nepal also highlights the importance of children’s
production in the agricultural sector. In a 2005 study making use of shadow wage
estimates for children and adults in the agricultural sector, it was estimated that
Nepalese children contribute about 11.5 % of the value of total agricultural
production in the country. Considering that agriculture is responsible for 81 %
of Nepalese GDP, over 9 % of Nepalese GDP is produced by children. The
simulations in the same study on the poverty and inequality implications of
children’s work show that working children significantly contribute to lowering
poverty at the household level and, to a lesser extent, to reducing inequality
(Menon et al. 2005).
Also not addressed in the statistics presented in Fig. 51.1 is children’s involve-
ment in the performance of household chores without payment within their
own homes. This form of children’s work falls outside the international System
of National Accounts production boundary (System of National Accounts
(Rev. 1993) is the conceptual framework that sets the international statistical
standards for the measurement of the market economy) and is typically excluded
from published estimates of child labor. Nonetheless, children’s involvement
in household chores is commonplace in most societies and its economic
significance is considerable. While this form of production is not directly reflected

in the measured economy, the fact that children often shoulder much of the burden
for household chores means that adult household members have more time for
involvement in economic forms of production. This indirect economic value of
children’s household chores has unfortunately been accorded very little research
attention and therefore is not dealt with further in this chapter.
51.4 Child Labor and Youth Employment Outcomes
Child labor is not only an important policy concern in and of itself but also
has important implications for the economic contributions of young persons in the
15–24 years range. How does child labor involvement affect employment outcomes
later in the life cycle? The most obvious connection is through compromised
education. Child labor impedes children’s access to school and their ability to learn
effectively in the classroom. Compromised education, in turn, leaves young people
more vulnerable to low-paid, insecure work and joblessness. But compromised
education is not the only link between child labor and youth employment outcomes.
Child labor can confer labor force disadvantage later in the life cycle even beyond its
effect on education.
Workers who are more educated are much more likely to be in wage employment
and less likely to be in self-employment or in unremunerated family work (Fig. 51.2).
Although occupational type is of course only a very weak proxy for job quality,
workers in wage employment are more likely to enjoy the protection of a legal work
contract, social security, and other characteristics associated with quality employ-
ment. Less educated young persons, on the other hand, appear much more likely to be
found in the informal economy in low-paid, insecure jobs offering limited opportu-
nity for upward advancement. Very often, young people work within the informal
economy, in intermittent and insecure arrangements, meaning low productivity,
earnings, and employment protection, or they are simply underemployed.
Compromised education also appears to lead to jobs that are more exposed
to fluctuations in the labor market. In Mongolia (UCW 2009) and
Ethiopia (UCW 2006), for example, a decrease in local labor demand generates
a decrease in the probability of young persons finding employment, and this effect
is stronger for youth who have low levels of education. In South Africa, education
appears to entirely offset the effect of the recession on the likelihood of employ-
ment (Leung et al. 2009). Local labor market conditions therefore seem to be
especially relevant for youth who have little or no education. Not surprisingly,
supply and demand conditions are most relevant for the less qualified workforce
that is more vulnerable to the economic cycle. Most of the factors that reduce the
sensitivity of employment to the cycle are far less relevant for this group.
Child labor can also have an effect on later employment outcomes, beyond its
detrimental effect on education, via other effects, such as lower productivity,
stigma, and lower job aspirations. In Tanzania, for example, the productivity of
work declines as a result of early labor market entry, underscoring potential
a Senegal b Mali 100

100 100
90 81.9 90
80 80
70 70
54.5
percent
60
percent
60 50.2
50 50
40 40
30 30
16.3
20 9.2 20 11.6
10 10 4.2
0 0
No schooling Primary Secondary Higher No schooling Primary Secondary Higher
c Tanzania d Mongolia
100 100
90 90 79.8
80 80
70 70
percent
percent
60 60
50 50
40 40 34.5
30 25.1 30
20 9.5 20
10 3.2 10 2.4 1.9
0 0
no schooling primary secondary+ No schooling Primary Secondary Higher
Fig. 51.2 Wage employment as percentage of total employment, by level of education, 15–24-
year-olds, selected countries. (Notes: Educational categories standardized for expositional pur-
poses. As education systems and reference years differ, caution should be exercised in making
cross-country comparisons. Source: UCW calculations based on Senegal, Enquête de suivi de la
pauvreté au Sénégal, 2005/2006; Mali, Enquête permanente auprès des ménages, 2007; Tanzania,
Integrated Labour Force Survey 2006, Mongolia Labour Force Survey 2006–07)
medium-term negative consequences of child labor (Beegle et al. 2008). In Brazil,

people who start work at a younger age end up with lower earnings as adults
(Ilahi et al. 2000; Emerson and Souza 2007). Girls can be particularly adversely
affected by early labor force entry (Gustafsson-Wright and Pyne 2002).
As a consequence of compromised labor market outcomes, an intergenerational
persistence in child labor is likely to arise. Children are more likely to work the
younger their parents were when they entered the labor force and the lower
the educational attainment of their parents. More likely to be poor, former child
laborers as adults are also more likely to have to depend on their children’s labor or
productivity as a household survival strategy, thus perpetuating the child
labor-poverty cycle (Emerson and Souza 2003).
The link between child labor and youth employment can also operate in the other
direction: in other words, labor market conditions for young people can affect
involvement in child labor. Again, the primary connection is through education.
Poor youth employment prospects can serve as a disincentive to investment in
children’s education. In situations where the child reaches the minimum working
age facing few opportunities for productive and decent work, parents might have
less incentive to forego child labor and invest instead in their children’s schooling.
Perceived returns from education (and resulting decisions concerning children’s

school and work) depend both on the difficulties faced in the labor market and on
expected wages. Concerning the latter, recent evidence indicates that expected
wages are an important determinant of children’s decisions to stay in school and
that children or their households might severely underestimate the returns
from additional education. In Mexico, among 15–25-year-olds, the expected returns
from schooling are substantially lower than the returns which are realized, partic-
ularly among children of fathers who have low education levels (Attanasio and
Kaufmann 2009). In the Dominican Republic, a survey showed that boys who were
given accurate information on the relatively high returns to a high school degree
were 12 % more likely to attend school in the following school year relative to those
who had not been given the information (and who underestimated these returns)
(Jensen 2006).
51.5 Responding to Child Labor
This section presents policy priorities for accelerating progress against child labor,
drawing on empirical evidence concerning its causes and on lessons learned from
past policy efforts. (This section is adapted from: UCW 2010. Joining forces
against child labour. Inter-agency report for 2010 The Hague global child labour
conference, pre-publication draft, February 2010.) Progress in expanding the
knowledge base on child labor has improved understanding of the complexity of
the phenomenon. It cuts across policy boundaries – schooling, health care, labor
market conditions, social protection, basic services access, income distribution,
social norms, cultural practices, inter alia, all can play a role – and therefore
requires a comprehensive policy response. Not amenable to being treated in isola-
tion, child labor concerns should be mainstreamed into overall national develop-
ment agendas and plans, including poverty reduction efforts, and into decisions
concerning budgetary resource allocations.
Prevention measures constitute the most important component of a policy
response to child labor. Clearly, sustainable reductions in child labor cannot be
attained without addressing the factors causing children to enter work in the first
place. As children are rarely responsible for their own choices, the design of
preventive measures requires an understanding of factors influencing household
decisions relating to schooling and work.
Some of the key factors determining household decisions regarding child labor
are depicted in the left side of Fig. 51.3. More accessible and better quality schools
are important because they affect the returns to schooling vis-à-vis child labor,
making the former more attractive as an alternative to the latter. Households
without adequate social protection may rely on their children’s work to make
ends meet, rendering them unable to sacrifice the immediate returns to work for
the future returns to schooling. In the absence of decent work opportunities upon
graduation from school, there is little incentive for households to invest in
their children’s education. Finally, if households are insufficiently aware of the
Access to and quality of schooling

Education
as an alternative to child labour
decisions relating to child
Relevant policy “pillars”

labour and schooling
Factors influencing
Exposure to social risk/access to

Social protection
social protection mechanisms
Decent work opportunities in the

Labour markets
labour market
Awareness levels, socio-cultural

norms and attitudes affecting child Strategic communication
labour and schooling
Fig. 51.3 Key determinants of child labor and schooling and policy pillars to address them.
(UCW Program. Joining forces against child labour. Inter-agency report for 2010 The Hague
global child labour conference, pre-publication draft, February 2010)
benefits of schooling (or of the costs of child labor) or if prevailing sociocultural

norms favor child labor, they are also less likely to choose the classroom over the
workplace for their children.
The right side of Fig. 51.3 lists primary policy “pillars” addressing these
economic and sociocultural determinants of child labor – education, social
protection, labor markets, and strategic communication.
Education: There is a broad consensus that one of the most effective means
of preventing children from entering child labor is to extend and strengthen school-
ing, so that families can have the opportunity to invest in their children’s educa-
tion, and the returns to schooling make it worthwhile for them to do so. A range of
empirical evidence points to the importance of school access in particular in
reducing child labor and raising school attendance. Long travel distances to
school can translate into high transport costs and a significant time burden, both
raising the economic price of schooling. Families may also be reluctant to send
their children, and especially their daughters, to schools far from home due to
concerns around girls’ mobility in the public space. But access to schooling is
only a part of the problem. Greater access needs to be complemented by supply-
side policies to raise quality. Empirical evidence suggests that improved school
quality makes households more willing to invest in their children’s education,
presumably because quality influences the returns to such an investment.
Social protection: The need to reduce household vulnerability to prevent
children from being used as a buffer against negative shocks is well established.
The role of household vulnerability arising from credit constraints to child labor
decisions is also well established. Since access to credit can assist families in
adapting to unanticipated changes in income, it can diminish the incidence of
child labor and improve school attendance. There is no single recipe for
implementing social protection programs to reduce household vulnerability and
child labor. Unconditional cash transfers, including various forms of child support
grants, family allowances, needs-based social assistance, and social pensions, are
relevant in easing household budget constraints and supplementing the incomes
of the poor. Conditional cash transfers offer a means of both alleviating current
income poverty and of addressing the underinvestment in children’s human capital
that can underlie poverty. Public works schemes can be either a short-term or
structural social protection intervention. Micro-loan schemes offer an important
means of extending access to credit to poor households, in turn helping to ease
household budget constraints and to mitigate social risk.
Labor markets: Even when equipped with a good skills base, young people can
experience difficulties in finding gainful employment. And these difficulties
can feed back on household decision concerning the investment in the education
of their children and the age of their entry in the labor market. A number of policy
options are available to help improve the functioning of the labor market for youth
within the constraints of the macroeconomic environment. Offering micro-credit
in conjunction with a broader range of enterprise support services is a means of
helping young people start and develop small businesses. Establishing a legal
framework to protect the growing number of young persons working in the
informal sector is also important. Employment services, career guidance, and
job counseling can all be helpful in addressing transition problems rooted in a lack
of job search skills or a lack of labor market information.
Strategic communication: Policy responses to child labor are unlikely to be
effective in the absence of a broad-based consensus for change. Building this
consensus requires, firstly, strategic communication efforts aimed at providing
households with better information concerning the costs of child labor and benefits
of schooling. Such communication efforts need to be based on knowledge of the
economic considerations as well as the social norms that underlie child labor and
schooling decisions. Both national- and local-level strategic communication efforts
are relevant in reaching households with required information. Use of a wide
variety of conventional (e.g., radio, television, and print media) and
nonconventional communication channels (e.g., religious and tribal leaders, school-
teachers, health-care workers) is important in achieving maximum outreach.
Localized studies looking at the knowledge, awareness, and behavior on
child labor are important to providing a baseline against which progress in bringing
about attitudinal change can be assessed.
An adequate policy framework along the lines described above – in and
of itself – is insufficient for national progress against child labor. Achieving
sustainable reductions in child labor also requires a supportive national legal,
political, and institutional environment and a society that is aware of the dangers
of child labor and mobilized against it.
Political commitment is needed to ensure that child labor concerns are
mainstreamed and prioritized in broader development plans and programs.
This may include, for example, integrating child labor as an explicit concern in
Millennium Development Goals, Education for All (EFA) plans, and Poverty
Reduction Strategy Papers (PRSP). Labor legislation consistent with international
child labor standards is necessary both as a statement of national intent and as legal
and regulatory framework for efforts against child labor. Social mobilization is
important to engaging a broad range of social actors in efforts against child
labor. Religious organizations, NGOs, the mass media, and trade unions employers’
organizations can all play important roles in addressing child labor. Initiatives such
as community-based child protection networks provide useful vehicles for bringing
together a wide variety of stakeholders – governmental and nongovernmental –
to combat child labor.
Strengthening institutional capacity at all levels of government is also needed
for continued progress toward child labor reduction goals in many national
contexts. While national plans of action, PRSPs, and other development plans
provide solid bases for action, these frameworks are unlikely to be implemented
effectively in the face of capacity constraints. As child labor is an issue
that cuts across sectors and traditional areas of institution responsibility, the clear
delineation of roles, and the strengthening of coordination and information
sharing, is also critical to the effective functioning of government institutions
and their social partners in efforts combating child labor. Assistance in
the child labor field is often highly fragmented, with a large number of actors
operating with little or no coordination or linkages. This leads to overlaps in
assistance in some areas and to gaps in assistance in other priority areas.
References
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constraints (NBER Working Paper Series, No. 15087). Cambridge, MA.
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88(3), 412–427.
Beegle, K. et al. (2008). The consequences of child labor: evidence from longitudinal data in rural
Tanzania (World Bank Policy Research Working Paper Series, No. 4677). Washington, DC.
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Childhood and Inequalities: Generational
Distributive Justice and Disparities 52
Helmut Wintersberger
52.1 Introduction
For dealing with the topic of childhood and inequalities some normative consider-
ations have to be made at the start. Since the achievement that children are
recognized as legal subjects and citizens is rather recent, these normative founda-
tions are controversial and cannot be referred to in a compact way. I cope with this
problem by offering different approaches in which I try to shed light on the
normative premises of childhood and (mainly generational) inequalities from
three angles. In Sect. 52. 2, I address childhood and related research paradigms to
reveal their explicit and implicit normative assumptions with a view to our
topic. I start with research on welfare and women as well as the gender paradigm
to get to research on the child, new childhood studies with the orientations of
childhood as structure and as agency in particular. A completely different source
of normative regulations is dealt with in Sect. 52.3, namely, children’s rights.
Emphasis is placed on the UN Convention on the Rights of the Child, and then
on some relevant developments in the European Union. Though national law is not
covered in this section, I think to some extent this level is reflected in and/or
influenced by discourses on international and European law. Philosophical
discourses on childhood and inequalities are the subject of Sect. 52.4. Welfarist,
libertarian, and Rawlsian theories are briefly discussed with a view to their
extendibility towards children.
Section 52.5, which discusses the dimensions of inequalities, serves as an
introduction to the next and main part of the article. Although in the context of
generational distributive justice for children the generational dimension is defi-
nitely the relevant dimension, we have to consider that there are other dimensions
that partly overlap and partly conflict with the generational perspective, such as the
H. Wintersberger
Vienna, Austria

1524 H. Wintersberger
vertical and the horizontal distribution, gender, and ethnicity. In addition, there
are other aspects such as the administrative level and the domain of children’s
well-being that should not be mixed in with the structural dimensions of inequal-
ities. The state of the art for measuring generational inequalities is described in
Sect. 52.6. In this section I focus predominantly on three Unicef publications,
namely, Innocenti Report Cards 1 (Unicef 2000), 7 (Unicef 2007), and 9 (Unicef
2010), which cover child (income) poverty in the years before and around 2000, the
transition toward a more complex and multiple concept of child well-being
as introduced in Report Card 7, and the rediscovery of the inequality issues in
Report Card 9.
The next three sections contain some critical observations on the state of
child-centered inequality studies: ideological and technical resistance against the
generational perspective (Sect. 52.7), and a dearth of perspectives for integrating
minorities left behind, with emphasis on the Roma population in the
European Union (Sect. 52.8). The article ends with some conclusive observations
in Sect. 52.9.
52.2 Research Paradigms and the Perception of Inequalities

Concerning Children
Current research paradigms and areas (as well as affiliated ideologies) may influence,
to a major degree, how inequalities concerning children are perceived.
52.2.1 Welfare Research
Social welfare research, with its origins that go back to Marxism, was among the
first research areas to deal with inequalities. Meanwhile, the liaison between
welfare research and Marxism has become looser, and it is not at all necessary to
be a Marxist to have an interest in inequality issues. However, particularly in
theoretical discourses the Marxist origins are still visible. For instance, it is not at
all coincidental that Esping-Andersen’s (1990) typology of welfare states, one of
the most widespread and powerful theories in this area, was constructed around the
Marxist concept of commodification and decommodification of labor.
On the whole, childhood and welfare discourses involve different research
constituencies and so we are faced with mutual neglect: Welfare analysis tends to
neglect childhood and children as a population group, while childhood studies tend
to neglect welfare theory and policies at large (Kr€anzl-Nagl et al. 2003). This is not
to say that there are no theoretical or political debates on children’s welfare.
However, these debates usually do not take place in the framework of childhood
discourses but do so in other arenas such as general social, labor market, family, and
women’s policies.
Only in recent years we have witnessed a fundamental change in the “welfare
architecture,” which has caused a shift in the position of children, women, and
52 Childhood and Inequalities: Generational Distributive Justice and Disparities 1525
families with respect to welfare. By adapting modern welfare states to a changing

economic and social environment, not to mention overcoming the functional deficits
of the old welfare regime, new ideas and concepts are being propagated. The new
priorities and measures for restructuring welfare regimes derive either from the
visions and concepts of an “activating social policy” or the social investment state
(Giddens 1998). Mediated by the discourse on child poverty and demographic
developments, a stronger integration of child-oriented questions into social policy
and welfare state research as well as the corresponding policy in terms of a new
welfare architecture is argued for, as, for instance, in Esping-Andersen’s et al. (2002)
book Why We Need a New Welfare State. It proposes a differentiated and broad
strategy of investment by the welfare state in a “good” childhood (not in family as
such!) as an effective instrument against poverty, social exclusion, and the inheri-
tance of marginalized life chances by the “next” generation. At first glance,
the strategy of investing in children seems to improve their position with respect
to the generational order of welfare. By providing an extended provision of childcare
institutions, the welfare state takes on more responsibility for the welfare of children.
However, this strategy has a different kind of citizenship in mind than that
connected to a truly child-oriented perspective. The status of children moves
away from being the “private property” of the parents to a concept of the child as
a “citizen-worker of the future.” This means that the quality of childhood in the here
and now risks being overshadowed by a preoccupation with the development of
children as future citizen-workers. The investment in children is not aimed at
improving the quality of childhood in the present but at gaining economic returns
in the future, as the right to receive benefits is linked to benefits in return in the
future. Therefore, within the social investment regime the citizenship rights of
children are limited in two respects: First, the child is not “being a citizen” but
rather is a “citizen-in-becoming.” Second, the citizen status is reduced to the
economic dimension of the productive citizen-worker of the future and weakens
the political and social dimensions of full citizenship (Olk and Wintersberger
2007). In other words, this proposal may be a useful extension of welfare research
toward children and childhood, but it does not contain a fully satisfying answer to
the childhood question in welfare research. Further steps will be needed for
including children and childhood in welfare research in a way that is compatible
with the new childhood research paradigms as well as with the new legal position of
children.
52.2.2 Women’s Studies and Feminist Research
While the relationship between welfare and childhood research was characterized
in terms of mutual neglect, this would not be adequate for describing the relation-
ship between women’s and children’s studies. On the contrary, most research on
women could not be done without any reference to children and vice versa.
However, this does not mean that the relationship is characterized by harmony
only, there are also ambivalences and tensions.
On one hand, there are similarities with a view to establishing new research
paradigms in both women’s and childhood research; ontologically, however, the
feminist revolution had to precede the revolution of the childhood perspective in
research as well as in practice. “The rise of women made two central contributions
to the emergence of child politics. One was of visibility, the other of conceptua-
lisation. Women’s fights for entry into participation in public life, in the labour
market, in public debate, in places of power made children more visible to public
discourse . . . The ‘family’ was individualised, comprising individual members,
who had but who should not have unequal rights and powers. This individualist
egalitarianism (or egalitarian individualism) first and most explicitly asserted the
individuality of the woman. But in so doing, it undermined also the patriarchal
collectivism of the family, and opened up a space for discussing the individuality
and the rights of the child as well” (Therborn 1996, p. 384).
On the other hand, there is sometimes also a competitive attitude among women’s
issues researchers, induced by a preoccupation that increasing awareness of child-
hood issues in public discourses might decrease the public attention paid to feminist
issues. A good example is from Folbre (1994), who identifies patriarchy as a “mode
of production both analogous and intertwined with capitalism,” while other forms of
collective identity, such as age (or generation) “remain on a lower level of theoretical
importance . . .. They do not comprise systems comparable to capitalism or patriar-
chy” (Folbre 1994, pp. 37–38). In a childhood perspective, this position is funda-
mentally wrong: the generational dimension is as structural as the gender dimension,
and feminist researchers are to be reminded that they also had to redefine or extend
the concept of labor to include household care and emotional support with a view to
gender division just as childhood researchers are doing by including household and
school work in addition to formal and informal work in general with a view to the
generational division of labor (Qvortrup 1995; Wintersberger 2005).
Whenever feminists show this attitude of downsizing the structural relevance of
the generational cleavage, they are reminded of the old conflict between feminists
and traditional Marxists concerning the relevance of class and gender: While in the
dispute with Marxists feminist researchers – though they did not deny the diverse
lives that women lead – insisted that women first and foremost had something in
common that cut across classes, when it comes to children, they insist that gender,
i.e. the division of childhood into a girl- and a boy-childhood – become a vital part
of childhood studies. In other words, they insist on a singular notion of womanhood
while at the same time they advocate the plural notion of childhood.
In spite of existing ambivalences between women’s and children’s discourses,
women’s and children’s interests are characterized predominantly by overlaps
rather than by antagonisms. In addition, opposition to the individualization of
childhood and the phenomenon of downsizing the structural relevance of childhood
and generation are attitudes not only to be observed in feminist discourses, but also
in any other public discourse biased by adultism, which is rather the rule than the
exception. The family discourse would be another example, although in this case it
cannot be denied that a major part of family interests coincides with children’s
interests.
52.2.3 Childhood Studies
With childhood research itself, the situation is different: the traditionally dominant
developmental paradigm as well as the socialization paradigm cannot be criticized
exactly for the same reasons as welfare or women’s research. However, there
prevails an adultist bias in these paradigms, too, which is instrumental in preserving
an adultist perspective of childhood. Therefore, the initial raison d’être of new
childhood studies was to overcome such a restricted perspective of childhood.
Within new childhood studies, there are two paradigms in particular that should
be mentioned: structure-oriented childhood and actor-oriented child research, both
distinct from the dominant developmental psychological paradigm and from the
socialization perspective.
In the structure-oriented approach, childhood is considered a social category or
permanent structure in society and children comprise a population group of their
own (Qvortrup 2009). With respect to the developmental paradigm, the main
factors of distinction are the level of analysis (society instead of the individual)
and the permanent nature of childhood as a social category rather than the transient
perception of a child developing toward adulthood. Along with the structural
approach, we might think of children as a minority group, which according to
Wirth’s (1945) definition is a group singled out from the rest of the society, in this
case the dominant group of adults, for special treatment, protective and repressive
discrimination in particular. This conceptual orientation was further developed
toward a generational view of childhood, which means addressing inequalities
between children and adults in particular. The basic assumption of generational
research is that different generational segments, i.e., childhood, adulthood, and old
age, relate and interact with each other in particular ways under various historical
and societal circumstances. This assumption also presupposes a certain degree of
commonness among members of each of the generational segments in terms of
rights, power, law, discourses, access to welfare, access to space, and so on.
In actor-oriented child studies, the categorical assumption of children’s immatu-
rity and incompetence is questioned (for any age) by focusing on children’s agency,
competences, and contributions (James 2009). This change of perspective is not
completely new and not restricted to the sociological discipline; it may build upon
previous findings in earlier sociological, psychological, and pedagogical research.
The type of inequalities that could be addressed in actor-oriented child studies is not
as clearly determined as in structure-centered research; it may be intergenerational
as well as intragenerational, depending on the specific research topic.
On the one hand, the new research orientations are different and distinct theoreti-
cally and practically, on the other hand, they are interdependent and mutually indis-
pensable for further developing discourses on children’s well-being. “Institutional
structures are transformed into social and cultural structures through the interaction
between children’s culture and the institutional structure,” and, therefore, the power of
childhood theories “depends not only on their capacity to conceptualize children as part
of social, economic and cultural structures, but also on their ability to establish
childhood as a process and children as active subjects” (Frønes 2005, p. 270ff).
It is rather the combination than the separation of research findings from both traditions,
structure-oriented childhood and actor-oriented child research, that determines pro-
gress in the analysis of inequalities concerning children.
52.3 The Equality/Inequality Issue in International Rights
52.3.1 The Convention on the Rights of the Child (CRC)
There are a number of references to equality/inequality in the CRC; however, the

article that deals with it most explicitly is Article 2 in which governments are asked
to respect and ensure the rights contained in the CRC for each child “without
discrimination of any kind, irrespective of the child’s or his or her parent’s or legal
guardian’s race, colour, sex, language, religion, political or other opinion, national,
ethnic or social origin, property, disability, birth or other status.” These dimensions
of discrimination or inequality, taken from the Human Rights Charter, refer to equal/
unequal treatment of children within the child population; Article 2 does not mention
discrimination of children as it exists against adults explicitly. This would not be
a major problem, if the Human Rights Charter of the United Nations contained age as
an illicit reason for discrimination; however, this is not the case. This is not to say
that the CRC entirely ignores the problem of discrimination of children as against
adults. To the contrary, if we examine the various substantive articles more care-
fully, we find a lot of implicit references such as the definition of the child under the
age of 18 as a human being (not a human becoming) in Art. 1, as well as the
numerous civil, political, social, economic, and cultural rights addressed in other
articles which transmit the idea of the child citizen. However, the absence of
a paragraph (1) in Art. 2 of the CRC that addresses discrimination of children as
against adults, followed by a paragraph (2) that is identical with the paragraph (1) as
quoted above is clearly identified as a deficit of the CRC. The fact that major results
from new childhood studies that particularly focused on childhood as a social
category were made available only after 1989 may help us understand why the
experts who prepared the text of the CRC for the vote in the General Assembly failed
to notice the relevance of the generational perspective.
With these critical observations on Art. 2 in mind, I introduced two dimensions
with regard to social justice: generational (or age-based) justice, which addresses
inequalities between the child and adult population, and inequalities within the child
population along the lines of social and other characteristics (such as those mentioned
in Art. 2 of the CRC). While in the generational perspective (1) the focus is on what all
children have in common and what distinguishes them as a social group from the adult
population (and other relevant groups in society), the other perspective (2) is not aimed
at identifying what children have in common, but rather at studying and comparing
specific subgroups of the child population and focusing on the differences between
them, e.g., girls and boys, disabled and able bodied children, and so on.
With respect to domains of children’s well-being mainly referred to in this paper,
mention should be made of Art. 27, which discusses safeguarding an adequate
standard of living for children. In paragraph 1 States Parties are asked to recognize
“the right of every child to a standard of living adequate for the child’s physical,
mental, spiritual, moral and social development,” i.e., a principal request of
a desirable living standard for every child, wherever and in whatever conditions
he or she may be. Paragraph 2 states that the “parents or others responsible for the
child have the primary responsibility to secure, within their abilities and financial
capacities, the conditions of living necessary for the child’s development.” This
means that the responsibility for the material well-being of the child is primarily not
with the government but with the parents, and therefore we also have to accept that
children’s standard of living may vary along with that of their parents. However, the
CRC sets limits to such variations: in paragraph 3 States Parties are invited, “in
accordance with national conditions and within their means, (to) take all appropri-
ate measures to assist parents (. . .) to implement this right and (. . .) in case of need
(to) provide material assistance and support programmes, particularly with regard
to nutrition, clothing and housing.” Obviously, the delegation of the principal
responsibility for the child’s well-being to the parents contained in paragraph 2 is
not to be understood as a release of governments from any responsibility in this
connection. On the contrary, in a preventive way governments may have indirect
responsibilities for promoting and maintaining the parents’ abilities and capacities,
and in a subsidiary way, governments may have direct responsibilities for the well-
being of the child if the parents cannot live up to their responsibilities.
Similarly and in addition to Art. 27, the Arts. 24, 26, and 28 acknowledge
children’s rights of access to health and medical treatment facilities, social security,
and education, including compulsory primary education available free to all.
However, while the task of safeguarding a decent standard of living is seen as
a main responsibility of the parents, safeguarding access to health, social security,
and education remains a primary obligation of the government, which in so doing
the government should consider the specific needs of the child on one hand, and the
resources available to the child or his/her parents on the other hand.
52.3.2 European Union Framework
Contrary to the universal Charter of Human Rights, the EU Fundamental Rights

Charter contains in its Art. 21 a reference to age as an illicit reason for discrimina-
tion. While the original intention of including this article may have been to provide
elderly persons and there organizations with a normative instrument to combat
discrimination of senior citizens, it also is used by children and youths as well as
their lobbies for engaging in activities related to fighting discrimination of children
as against adults in general and generational child poverty in particular. In this
context the EU has created a legal instrument that is more explicit than the universal
Convention and even the Children’s Rights Convention itself. Both of them do not
identify age as illicit ground for discrimination.
The EU’s formal legal basis for engaging in activities relating to poverty derives
from references in Arts. 136 and 137 of the Treaty of the European Community to
the importance of combating social exclusion. These provisions are aimed primar-
ily at enhancing employment and social opportunities for adults in the EU and do
not particularly relate to children. It was not until the turn of the millennium that
children were included more explicitly within the EU’s poverty campaign. This was
achieved not through the formulation of legal measures but through a coordinated
and ambitious program of cooperation known as the Lisbon Strategy. The principal
aim of this strategy was to curb economic stagnation and enhance productivity with
a view to making the EU “the most dynamic and competitive knowledge-based
economy in the world.” Central to this process was a strategy that addressed the
social and environmental factors that hinder growth and competitiveness and that
cultivate social exclusion. It was ordained that this would be facilitated through
a new working method, the Open Method of Coordination in the field of social
policy (OMC), which would involve the following: fixing guidelines on child
poverty that are tied in to timetables for achieving short-, medium-, and long-
term goals; establishing appropriate quantitative and qualitative best practice indi-
cators; and instigating a process of periodic monitoring, evaluation, and peer
review, organized as mutual learning processes. This whole process would be
sensitive to national, regional, and cross-sectoral differences in response to child
poverty.
Dovetailing with the Lisbon Strategy was the development of the Social Inclusion
Process, which aimed more directly at tackling disadvantage and which has adopted
child poverty as a core priority. Thus, in 2000 the Social Inclusion Process was
established by the European Council with a view to making a decisive impact on
eradicating poverty by 2010. Both schemes operate on a multilevel basis, with the EU
providing the support and impetus for policy exchange and development at a national
level, thereby prompting a more strategic, consensus-driven approach to tackling
child poverty. The 2006 Spring European Council placed further pressure on Mem-
ber States and the Commission of the European Union to take action to eradicate
poverty among children. This prompted detailed indicators-based research into the
reasons for child poverty in the Member States (Stalford et al. 2009; The Social
Protection Committee 2008).
52.4 The Position of Children in Concepts of Social Justice
Any complaint about unfair treatment of children in society presupposes some basic
notion of social justice and fairness. In this respect, some theories are available,
such as the traditional welfarist and libertarian approaches or the more recent theory
of justice as fairness by Rawls. However, different as these theories are, they have
one aspect in common: children are usually ignored or excluded. Therefore, I could
close this section by simply stating that children do not have a position on the
concept of social justice. On the other hand, the CRC defines children as (legal and
social) subjects and thus provides a normative basis for arguing that concepts on
social justice and fairness should not be restricted to adults only, but extended to
children as well. Therefore, we are not satisfied with the short and simple answer
but shall elaborate more in detail on theories of social justice and discuss their
flexibility with a view to extending them to children.
• Welfarism – utilitarianism in particular – defines value on the basis of an
individual utility function representing predominantly happiness. Collective
utility functions in welfare economics are generated by additive accumulation
of individual utility functions. The greatest happiness of the greatest number and
combining the goal of maximizing overall happiness at the societal level with
egoism at the individual level are the leading principles of the doctrine of
welfarism in its classical version formulated by Bentham and Mill in the wake
of capitalism (Barry 2000; Johansen 2009).
• The rationale of the libertarian dessert-based approach is strongly connected
with individual entitlements (and what others freely choose to give). Entitle-
ments or desserts are usually intended to reward people for their contribution to
the social product or the effort made or the costs incurred in their work (Lamont
2003; Johansen 2009).
• Rawls (1971), in developing his social contract, proposed a fictitious experiment
for which he made the following assumptions: (1) free and equal persons meet to
decide on the social contract (original position); (2) the parties to the contract do
not know their sex, their political and religious beliefs, their economic and social
position in society, etc. (veil of ignorance); (3) they do know everything else
there is to know about society; (4) they are rational in the sense that agreement is
made on the basis of enlightened self-interest. He argued that on the basis of these
assumptions, parties will choose a society based on the principles of freedom
(implying political liberties and full individual freedom, restricted only by respect
for the liberty of other persons) and of social and economic equality.
Concerning the utilitarian doctrine, Bojer (2005) points out that individual
preferences are assumed to be stable over time and, with respect to changes of
the social and economic environment, it is a simplification to be qualified as absurd
particularly when applied to children. I am not sure whether stability of individual
preferences over time is a core condition for the utilitarian approach, nor would
I exclude the possibility of modifying or generalizing utilitarian thinking in a way
that would make it more child-sensitive.
In addition, Bojer (2005) refers to the fact that it is often experts, taking
inspiration from utilitarian ideas, who deny that parenthood in itself creates rights;
most provocative in this vein is the following statement by Rakowsky (1993): “If
the cultivation of expensive tastes, or silly gambles, or any other intentional action,
cannot give rise to distributional claims, how can procreation?” With regard to this
provocation she argues that parents bringing up children are doing so not only for
their benefit, but also for the benefit of those not bringing up children. This is
confirmed, for instance, by demographers’ and social politicians’ complaints over
low fertility and its impact on national pension systems. Therefore, children may be
considered a public good, and parents are entitled to receive public assistance in
bringing up children (Bojer 2005). This argument coincides with the rationale of
most family policy programs in Western welfare states, but it does not overcome
a fundamental problem in the common understanding of childhood, namely, that
children are seen predominantly not as persons of their own but as dependent on
their parents. If we search for a more radical solution, we may depart from the
CRC’s definition of children as legal and social subjects and from the notion of
children’s citizenship granting them direct entitlements with respect to society. In
this framework it becomes evident that Rakowsky (1993) considers only parents,
their preferences, and decisions, but he forgets entirely the child and his/her
preferences and needs. In other words, the utilitarian model has to be extended by
the child’s utility function. However, individualizing children by emphasizing the
visibility and conceptual autonomy of childhood from the family is not aimed at
undermining but rather underlining parental, particularly maternal, contributions
and entitlements with respect to society.
With a view to the libertarian dessert-based approach, Bojer (2005) observes that
since children in modern society are usually not considered as producers, they do
not have economic entitlements and are a priori excluded from the libertarian
model of distributive justice. On the other hand, Johansen (2009) remarks that the
dessert-based approach is oriented toward the past rather than the future; although
children may not have contributed to the economy in the past, they may be expected
to do so in the future, and therefore financial transfers and/or other public support
for children could be interpreted as an investment in children. This position
corresponds largely to the idea of social investment in children as expressed by
Esping-Andersen et al. (2002). It is also a widespread and dominant position in
educational research and policies, but was criticized by Olk and Wintersberger
(2007) for restricting children’s citizenship to their citizenship as future adults only.
Bojer’s (2005) observation that children in modern society are generally not
considered as producers and contributors is correct only as a statement on the
perception of childhood; it does not reflect the reality of modern childhood.
Although child labor has officially been abolished in Western countries, children
continue to be producers and contributors to society. Although their product does
not have an immediate economic value, they are participating actively as pro-
tagonists in the production of human capital, which is a useful and necessary
prerequisite for any modern society (Qvortrup 1995; Wintersberger 2005). In
addition, many children in Western economies are involved in (part-time) market
work and in informal work such as household chores. This would be a sufficient
reason for granting direct entitlements to children under the logic of the dessert-
based doctrine. In addition, with respect to child labor in the Third World, there are
social movements and critical research networks studying the general campaign
against child labor, particularly focused on the balance between the interest of
Northern economies versus the rights and needs of working children in particular
(Liebel et al. 2008).
As mentioned, all theories ignore or exclude children explicitly or implicitly.
However, while economic and social equality and the state’s role in securing
distributive justice turn out to be important aspects in Rawl’s (1971) theory, this is
not the case for both utilitarian and libertarian doctrines. As a matter of fact, there
is not much concern about social and economic equality and income redistribution
by a strong welfare state in both these theories. In addition, although Rawls (1997)
states explicitly that children are not parties to the social contract, Bojer (2005)
argues that in principle children’s rights could be accommodated very well in
Rawlsian theory. With a view to the fictitious experiment, she is convinced “that
the parties in the original position would first of all secure for themselves
favourable conditions during childhood. It is impossible to believe that rational
agents would choose to face the risk of spending their childhood without rights,
and without a lawful claim on society for protection from abuse, neglect and
starvation. In particular, they would not wish to be the unconditional property of
their parents” (Bojer 2005). In other words, Bojer (2005) suggests using Rawls’
concept of social justice but at the same time neglect his decision to exclude
children as parties in the social contract. In this way children (together with
adults) take part in the experiment, which involves rational decision, under
conditions of uncertainty concerning each party’s age, gender, and social and
economic positions. This guarantees to all parties freedom with respect to their
life project, as in the utilitarian and libertarian theories, but in addition to that, it
guarantees a kind of symmetry between children and adults that promotes the
equality principle at large and generational equality (between children and adults)
in particular.
52.5 Dimensions of Distributive Justice and Inequalities
In the relevant literature there are frequent references to “dimensions” of children’s

well-being; however, there are different types of dimensions, some of which are
shown in Fig. 52.1. Class, gender, and generation, for instance, are three structural
dimensions that represent distinct constituencies in inequality discourses: labor
(versus capital) or the poor (versus the rich), women (versus men), and children
(versus adults). In addition to these structural dimensions, there are also some
sociodemographic, economic, and cultural dimensions, which may interfere more
or less with the generational distribution.
Another question is the level of analysis and the geographic area, e.g., national or
European. A national report on child poverty has the child population as the subject.
However, if the national data are collected and presented in the framework of
a cross-national European study, the subject shifts from the child population to
the countries or nations. While in the first case the message of the report refers
directly to child poverty in a country, in the second case the message may refer to
nations and their levels of child poverty.
The term “dimension” is also used for indicating domains or aspects of children’s
well-being. Such conceptualization of children’s well-being can be done in different
ways; however, the domains contained in Fig. 52.1 were taken mainly from reports
on children’s well-being by Unicef and other international organizations.
When dealing with the topic of distributive justice for children, one has to focus
on the generational dimension. This selection follows the same logic as the
selection of the gender dimension in women’s studies. There may be differences
between generation and the social category of children on the one hand and gender
Fig. 52.1 Dimensions of

Structural socio-economic and cultural dimensions of
inequalities
inequalities
Generation or age
Class/ Vertical distribution
Gender
Horizontal distribution
Generation as cohort
Institutionalized life cycle
Ethnicity
Levels or geographic areas

International/ North-South
European
National
Regional and local
Domains (or aspects) of children’s well-being

Material well-being
Health and safety
Education
Family and peer relationships
Behaviours and risks
and the social category of women on the other hand (as there are between the latter
with a view to social class). However, in social analysis after the introduction of
class and gender analysis, the introduction of generational analysis is the next
logical step. Any statement on how children fare in a society requires comparing
the situation of adults and children. A society may be described as child-friendly
only if an analysis based on a set of accepted indicators proves that children in that
society fare better or at least as well as adults.
The generational dimension is distinct from the others but interacts more or less
with all of them. As an additional new dimension, it complicates the task of
balancing policies with a view to different distributive dimensions and constituen-
cies; however, it can be instrumental in solving existing conflicts over social,
family, and women’s policies by introducing a new perspective. Since children
were the last to enter the arena of political stakeholders with respect to the welfare
state, the awareness and/or acceptance of the generational perspective is not yet as
common as in the case of gender. In addition, the statistical basis and the method-
ological instruments are not fully developed. This explains why records of the
generational distribution of resources are rarely older than 20–25 years. In the
beginning this issue was approached predominantly from the angle of child poverty
in terms of relative poverty, a concept referring to inequalities rather than to
deprivation and exclusion (as in the case of absolute child poverty and deprivation).
Originally, in social analysis the vertical distribution between social classes and/
or the rich and the poor used to dominate the debate on inequalities, but both the
gender and the generational distribution were not sufficiently considered in this
type of analysis. Nevertheless, there are positive interrelationships between all
these structural dimensions. In general, child poverty levels correlate positively
with poverty levels at large. A society characterized by excessive income differ-
ences with respect to social classes, strata, geographic regions, and urban/rural
areas is more likely to produce high child poverty rates than an egalitarian society.
When it comes to demographic structure and economic situation of families, the
household income, determined by number of earners and size of incomes, may have
an impact on the level of material well-being of children.
In principle, gender is not a primary concern in generational analysis, however,
there are obviously positive correlations between women’s and children’s welfare.
I have already addressed the number of earners in a household as a relevant
variable, so since culturally there is still resistance originating from the old ideology
of the traditional male breadwinner model, the crucial variables in this connection
are the employment and the wage level of mothers. In addition, due to growing
family instability, an increasing share of children live in a one-parent household; in
fact, the majority of these households (in some countries around 90 %) are headed
by mothers. Therefore, the material situation of children in one-parent households
depends considerably on the employment and the wage level of and the (public and
private) financial assistance to “lone” mothers.
The horizontal dimension distinguishes households according to demographic
characteristics, in particular, the number of adults and dependent children. If we
assume a constant household income, the income per person will obviously
decrease with the number of persons in the household. Therefore, with an
increasing number of dependent children, the material welfare of the children
tends to decline and child poverty to increase. To compensate for the economic
disadvantages of families with dependent children, most economically advanced
countries have some kind of monetary transfer system consisting of
a combination of direct (universal or means tested) child benefits, tax reductions
(allowances or credits), parental leave benefits, and childcare allowances, which
is referred to as horizontal income redistribution. Since these systems had mostly
been established before the feminist revolution, they usually contained some
patriarchal elements; however, with the exception of a few countries, these
patriarchal traits have been largely eliminated. Again, there is a positive correla-
tion between the generosity of these programs and the material levels of child
well-being.
For bringing up children, parents have to spend money and time for care. In
complex societies, some of the finances are being provided and part of the care
(predominantly education) is taken over by the state. However, the boundaries of
this shift from families to the public sector differ widely between countries. As for
early childhood and preschool education, the differences between countries are
particularly remarkable. In some countries it is obvious that the public sector has
the responsibility of providing day care for children below school age. In others
parents are free to use private institutions at their own expense. In yet other
countries, there is a mix of public and private depending on the age of children,
e.g., private responsibility for children below 3 years and public responsibility
between 3 years and school age.
These differences interfere with generation and gender. First, a per-person
income level does not provide full clarity if there is not sufficient information
on availability and conditions of public child-care services. If in one country
public child care is available free of charge and in another country parents have to
spend a considerable part of the income on private child care, the income data
are not comparable. Second, since child-care work is predominantly a female
activity, this domain interferes with the gender dimension. In fact, countries with
comprehensive and flexible public child-care systems have the highest participa-
tion level of women and mothers in the labor market. Therefore, information on
child-care policies, the distribution between parental and public responsibilities,
and funding in individual countries is needed for cross-national analysis. With
respect to financial transfers to children and families, it is often argued that public
funds should be invested in personal services for children directly rather than in
child-centered transfer payments to parents. The political reality shows that
this is not an either-or question, there is a need for both. The problem is one of
finding the right balance between financial transfers and personal services or cash
and care.
Place and time of birth matter, too. Whether children are born in a poor or a rich
country may affect their standard of living in absolute terms. This changes, how-
ever, if we look at the level of generational justice by shifting the question from
“How much do societies spend for children in absolute terms?” to “How do
societies share their resources between children and adults?” Looked at this way,
a relatively poor country may be more child-friendly than a rich country. The
philosophy of such an approach corresponds in principle to the rationale of the
Human Development Report (UNDP 2010). Similar arguments can be raised with a
view to adverse events such as natural or man-made disasters, floods and droughts,
wars, economic recessions occurring at some point in time. Depending on when
born, some cohorts may fare better than others, but in a society based on the values
of equity and solidarity as well as on the norms contained in the CRC, to some
extent the consequences of disasters and other collective adversities may be miti-
gated for the population at large and children in particular. With these remarks,
however, I do not wish to lessen the attention paid to the unequal distribution of
material resources for children in the first and the third world. On the contrary, the
fact that approximately 80 % of children are born in nations producing around 20 %
of the global income underlines that with respect to children and inequalities,
this cleavage remains (besides the ecological crisis) the major challenge at the
global level.
We have not addressed the internal distribution within the household. However,
at the macrostatistical analysis level, it is reasonable to assume a unique standard of
living for all household members. Therefore, the question is obsolete as long as we
remain at this level of analysis.
The distribution over the (institutionalized) life cycle is a perspective of some
interest. Labor markets whose contractual culture is characterized by wages rising
automatically with years of employment and/or age tend to benefit employed
persons of advanced age without dependent children rather than younger parents
with children. Also, most investments in public infrastructure are not neutral with
respect to the life cycle: it makes a difference whether and to which extent funds go
to establishing and maintaining public transport, child care, schools, and universi-
ties on the one hand, and roads, defense, prisons, hospitals, and homes for elderly
persons on the other hand.
52.6 Child Poverty and Children’s Well-being in Rich Countries:

A New Research Agenda
52.6.1 The Perception of Child Poverty before 2000
As mentioned above, the first statistical investigations on the generational distribu-

tion of material resources are hardly older than 25 years. The first data were
American data published by Preston (1984), who arrived at the conclusion that in
the second half of the last century a transition was taking place in regard to the
generational distribution of resources. While before this transition poverty had been
a phenomenon that affected predominantly the elderly population, toward the end
of the century it was affecting predominantly children and youths (as well as their
families). Cornia (1990) pointed out that this phenomenon was not restricted to the
US but could be observed in other countries as well (mainly OECD members).
These findings were confirmed also in an early statistical compendium on child-
hood by Jensen and Saporiti (1992). They showed that in Denmark and Norway,
children were underrepresented in higher-income classes and overrepresented in
lower-income classes: a clear indication of increased poverty levels for children and
generational inequalities.
An international study by Bradbury and J€antti (1999) included 25 countries
(from Europe and North America except for three). It was restricted mainly to
income poverty and based on data from the Luxembourg Income Study (LIS).
Based on different poverty lines, three child poverty rates were introduced: (1) rel-
ative child poverty below 50 % of the general median, (2) absolute poverty below
the US official poverty line, and (3) relative child poverty below 50 % of the child
median.
Relative child poverty below 50 % of the general median reflects the distribution
of disposable income per capita as seen from a childhood perspective. The indicator
is sensitive for income inequalities irrespective of the economic level of a nation. In
fact, nations with rather equal income distribution, such as Nordic and Central (both
Eastern and Western) European countries, had low child poverty rates (below
6.4 %), whereas nations with high inequalities, such as Russia and the US, had
high child poverty rates (above 26 %).
Absolute poverty (below the US official poverty line) reflects the impact of
a country’s overall economic position on child welfare economics. It is sensitive
primarily in regard to the wealth of a nation as a whole, though not entirely
insensitive to existing inequalities, with poverty rates ranging between 1.1 for
Luxembourg and 98.0 for Russia. By using the US official poverty line for mea-
suring poverty in all countries, one ends up with high poverty levels for economies
much poorer than that of the US.
Relative child poverty below 50 % of the child median is a more problematic
measure for Bradbury and J€antti (1999). “For most countries, child poverty is
about one third lower when measured against the child rather than the general
median. This is because the equivalent family income of the median child is
somewhat lower than the equivalent family income of the median person. These
relativities between children and others are sensitive to the equivalence scale, and
so this particular result is of limited interest” (Bradbury and J€antti 1999, p. 19). The
more children are concentrated in low-income households, the greater the differ-
ence between the two relative poverty rates; hence, a comparatively lower poverty
rate of the third type may just be the result of greater generational inequalities
between children and adults. However, before dropping the child median as
a reference point for measuring child poverty, it should be noted that in a more
recent publication (Innocenti Report Card 9 2010), this reference point turned out
to be useful, not for calculating another poverty rate as such, but for analyzing the
variation among the child population and to get an idea of how many children are
left behind and how far.
In principle, a generational comparison of poverty rates may be done using the
relative poverty rates or the absolute poverty rate; however, the relative poverty
rates usually are used. In comparing the poverty rates of children, adults, and the
elderly, Bradbury and J€antti (1999) warn about the sensitivity of this type of
analysis with respect to the equivalence scale applied. “The comparisons of chil-
dren’s poverty risks to those of the elderly are subject to many qualifications.
Obviously, for instance, the equivalence relativity is very important. Conceivably,
an equivalence scale which includes sufficiently low costs of children and/or high
economies of scale could be found that would lead to children always having lower
poverty rates than the elderly . . ..” And further on: “How can one compare the
living standards of people whose consumption patterns and socially ascribed needs
are so different?” (Bradbury and J€antti 1999, pp. 33–34).
I share their worries about manipulation of equivalence relativities, but I do not
conclude that we should do without a generational comparison. The introduction of
the generational dimension was a crucial achievement of the new childhood studies,
but the income distribution also is an important structural aspect of modern
societies. Therefore, income comparisons are a standing item in any social study
on different groups in society as well as on different societies. There are a number
of comparability problems (between nations, cultures, races, and sexes), and I agree
that there are also problems in comparing different ages. However, the conclusion
cannot be to avoid such comparison at all, but to find a solution to the problems
involved.
In general, early national and international research on child poverty in econom-
ically advanced societies confirmed Preston’s (1984) findings, i.e., there was a clear
trend toward increasing poverty levels affecting children and their families. In
addition, there was evidence that the risk of poverty increased with the number of
dependent children in a household, for children in single-parent families, and for
children in households with no or one income only (Badelt 1989). Finally, based on
a comparison of national child poverty rates on the one hand and of national social
and family expenditures on the other hand, experts concluded that if governments
are willing to act by introducing or improving child benefit programs, child poverty
rates could be reduced significantly (Ross et al. 1995).
52.6.2 From Child Income Poverty Toward a Multidimensional

Concept of Child Well-Being
While before the 1990s public opinion was that child poverty as contemporary
phenomenon was chiefly associated with childhood in poor countries of the Third
World, toward the end of the last century awareness was growing that there was
a child poverty problem in modern economies and welfare states, though it was
different from that in poor countries. In rich countries child poverty was defined
primarily as relative income poverty, referring predominantly to problems of
inequality. The momentum generated by public debates on child poverty in rich
countries initiated some political reforms and a new research agenda on child
poverty at national and international levels. I follow this debate during the first
decade of this century selectively by taking the Innocenti Report Card series, in
particular, Report Cards 1 (Unicef 2000), 7 (Unicef 2007), and 9 (Unicef 2010), as
examples. Choosing to use these reports is justified because (1) at the intergovern-
mental level, Unicef is the most authoritative body responsible for children; (2) the
issues of this series are drawn upon and summarize related projects implemented by
other international organizations such as OECD, WHO, and the EU, as well as in an
academic context, and they are freely accessible on the internet; and (3) the Report
Card series had and still has a major impact on childhood policy discourses in
OECD countries.
Report Card 1 (Unicef 2000) on child poverty in rich countries covered
a selection of 23 OECD countries. The document is based on LIS data and treats
relative and absolute poverty using the same poverty lines as Bradbury and J€antti
(1999), i.e. 50 % of the general median income and US official poverty line,
respectively, but it applies a different equivalence scale. A comparison between
the outcomes of the two studies shows some similarities with respect to the ranking
of nations according to both relative and absolute poverty rates. Since the two
studies work with different equivalence scales, we may assume that the ranking of
nations is somewhat robust considering this methodological difference.
Report Card 1 (Unicef 2000, 9) also compares the rankings of nations for relative
and absolute child poverty and concludes that “whether measured by relative or
absolute poverty, the top six places in the child poverty league are occupied by the
same six nations – all of which combine a high degree of economic development
with a reasonable degree of equity.” This statement should not be generalized; it
could not be applied to the ranking order in the study by Bradbury and J€antti (1999),
in which the Czech Republic turned out to be at the top for relative child poverty
and third from the bottom for absolute child poverty. As discussed above, absolute
poverty and relative poverty are different concepts. Relative child poverty reflects
inequalities among children and between children and adults within one nation; it
does not depend on the overall economic development of a country. Absolute child
poverty, which uses the US official poverty line for all countries, does depend on
the overall economic status of a country. Therefore, the absolute and relative child
poverty scores of nations cannot be expected to be the same or similar for the top,
the bottom, or the intermediate positions.
The six countries with the best scores with respect to relative and absolute child
poverty are (in alphabetical order) Belgium, Denmark, Finland, Luxembourg,
Norway, and Sweden (Figs. 52.2 and 52.3). Report Card 1 (Unicef 2000) explained
this phenomenon by describing these nations as ones that “combine a high degree of
economic development with a reasonable degree of equity.” Had they considered
the seven top countries, the Czech Republic, which was seventh among the top
performers for relative child poverty but third from the bottom among the bad
performers for absolute child poverty, would not have confirmed correspondence
between absolute and relative child poverty at all.
Figure 52.3, which shows absolute child poverty as reported in Report Card 1
(Unicef 2000, p. 7), confirms that some of the richest countries in terms of per-
capita income (Luxembourg and Norway) are at the top, while some of the
economically poorest countries (Poland, Hungary, and the Czech Republic) are
also those with the highest levels of absolute child poverty. However, there are also
remarkable exceptions: the US, the second richest country, is only 11th of 19. The
performances of Australia and Italy are also poor compared with their per-capita
GDP rankings. Finland and Sweden, whose per-capita GDP dropped during the
economic crisis from top to average levels among European countries, nevertheless
succeeded in holding top positions in the absolute child poverty rankings. These
positive and negative deviations might be due to a nation’s or government’s
political commitment to or resistance against social-political intervention on
the generational income distribution. In other words, in the 1990s prevention of
child poverty was not a top priority in the US, Italy, and Australia, whereas
Finland and Sweden obviously made major efforts and succeeded in defending
the standard of living of children in spite of a harsh economic recession and
restricted budgets.
The conceptual difference between absolute and relative child poverty is taken
up again in another place of Report Card 1 (Unicef 2000, p. 6). With the economic
developments that occurred in the early 1990s in Ireland and in some Central and
Eastern Europe (CEE) countries, tensions between relative and absolute measures
2.6 SWEDEN
3.9 NORWAY
4.3 FINLAND
4.4 BELGIUM
4.5 LUXEMBOURG
5.1 DENMARK
5.9 CZECH REPUBLIC
7.7 NETHERLANDS
7.9 FRANCE
10.3 HUNGARY
10.7 GERMANY
12.2 JAPAN
12.3 SPAIN
12.3 GREECE
12.6 AUSTRALIA
15.4 POLAND
15.5 CANADA
16.8 IRLAND
19.7 TURKEY
19.8 UK
20.5 ITALY
22.4 USA
26.2 MEXICO
0 5 10 15 20 25 30
Fig. 52.2 Relative child poverty: percentage of children living in households with income below
50 % of the national median (Source: UNICEF 2000, p. 4)
of poverty had emerged, which are referred to as the “poverty paradox.” During the
boom years of the Celtic tiger, the Irish economy had been growing at an annual
rate of 7–8 %, wages rose, and unemployment fell. However, those without a job or
with a low-wage job did not fully take part in this economic development. As a
consequence, inequalities at large and relative child poverty in particular increased.
The same apparent contradiction operated in reverse for the Czech Republic,
Hungary, and Poland in the difficult post-communist transition period. Those
countries suffered remarkable falls in national income of 15–20 % and real living
standards fell; however, this decline was ignored in the calculations of relative child
poverty by using a fixed percentage of the falling median income. “Accepting the
notion of relative poverty means accepting that poverty may be worsening even if
the absolute living standards of the poor are rising” (Unicef 2000, p. 6). Child
poverty is a complex phenomenon and it makes sense to use different indicators for
describing and understanding it.
Report Card 1 (Unicef 2000) has stronger and weaker sides. It confirms that
child poverty is a problem in rich countries, it identifies some rudimentary
1.2 LUXEMBOURG (1)

3 NORWAY (3)
5.1 DENMARK (7)
5.3 SWEDEN (12)
6.9 FINLAND (14)
7.5 BELGIUM (4)
9.5 CANADA (5)
10.7 FRANCE (10)
11.1 NETHERLANDS (9)
12.5 GERMANY (8)
13.9 USA (2)
16.2 AUSTRALIA (6)
21.4 IRLAND (15)
29.1 UK (13)
36.1 ITALY (11)
42.8 SPAIN (16)
83.1 CZECH REPUBLIC (17)
90.6 HANGRY (18)
93.1 POLAND (19)
0 20 40 60 80 100
Fig. 52.3 Absolute child poverty: percentage of children living in households with incomes
below the US official poverty line converted into national currencies with purchasing power parity
exchange rates. GNP per capita ranks are given in parentheses (Source: UNICEF 2000, p. 7)
sociodemographic, economic, and political indicators with family patterns,

employment levels, low wages, and social expenditures and their impact on child
poverty. In addition, some open questions, such as the persistence of poverty, the
poverty gap, and the limits of the one-dimensional, income-based child poverty
concept are addressed. However, the report has to be criticized for not engaging in
any generational comparison of poverty levels and for introducing an equivalence
scale, which is less child-sensitive than the previously applied scales.
Report Card 7 (Unicef 2007) extended domains from income to other domains of
children’s well-being. This was necessary because defining poverty and inequalities
based on income only was too narrow; there are other material and immaterial
aspects of well-being to be considered. Furthermore, with respect to children,
income seems to be a particularly artificial measure. In economically advanced
countries, children are more or less excluded from the labor market, and although
there are children who work in these countries (Liebel et al. 2008), children with an
income are rather the exception than the rule. In principle, however, the statistical
per-capita income measure used for poverty and inequality studies is artificial for
both children and adults. The difference is that the majority of adults have a real
income of their own while children, except for a rare few, do not.
In Report Card 7 (Unicef 2007) the well-being of children is represented by six
domains or dimensions: material well-being, health and safety, educational well-being,
family and peer relationships, behaviors and risks, and subjective well-being. Each of
the domains is divided into three components, and each of the 18 components contains
one or more indicators, for a total of 40. The selection of domains, components, and
indicators is the result of a compromise between the ideal aspirations of experts
represented in the International Society of Child Indicators on the one hand, and
feasibility considerations determined by data availability on the other hand. Method-
ologically, the computation of country scores follows rather simple rules: indicators
contained in the same component have equal weight; the same holds for components
contained in domains. The final composite index represents the average of the positions
in the six domains. Components and indicators are described in brief in Fig. 52.4.
The main findings are contained in the Summary Table Report Card 7 (Unicef
2007, p. 2) (Fig. 52.5). The Netherlands heads the table, followed by Sweden, both
ranking in the top third for five of six domains. All Nordic countries represented
rank in the top third. The UK and the US rank in the bottom third for five of the six
domains. In generally, all countries have weaknesses that need to be addressed. No
single dimension stands as a reliable proxy for child well-being as a whole, and
several countries find themselves with widely differing rankings for different
domains. Finally, there is no obvious relationship between levels of child
well-being and GDP per capita; the Czech Republic scores better than richer
countries such as the UK, the US, Austria, and France (Unicef 2007, p. 3).
When considering the top and the bottom of the league tables presented in
Report Cards 1 and 7 (Figs. 52.2, 52.3, and 52.5) as well as in other documents,
the Nordic countries tend to be among the top countries and the US and the UK
among the bottom countries. The stability of this distribution suggests that in the
Nordic countries a mix of factors such as the prevailing welfare state combined with
comparatively egalitarian values and respect for children’s rights has created the
conditions for stable outperformance for children’s well-being, while the US and
the UK have weaker welfare states and hence existing social inequalities are more
likely to be reproduced with the result that a substantial number of children are left
behind with respect to their standard of living and development potential. This is
not a strict proof, but a plausible hypothesis at the least.
As for the countries in between, the results are more diffuse, and clear causes and
tendencies are more difficult to define. This phenomenon is referred to by an
observation made in Report Card 7 (Unicef 2007, p. 3), i.e., “several countries
find themselves with widely differing rankings for different domains.” Different
domains cover different areas of children’s well-being, and, therefore, it simply
means that countries are better in some domains and worse in other domains,
provided that the indicators are adequate for representing the domain and the
distribution of weights to domains and indicators is appropriate. This level of
perfection has so far not been achieved, so the scores of the countries are not to
be taken as final verdict.
Material well-being (Unicef 2007, 4)

- relative income poverty: percentage of children living in homes with equivalent incomes below
50 % of the national median
- work intensity of household: percentage of children in families without an employed adult
- reported deprivation: percentage of children reporting low family affluence; percentage of children
reporting few educational resources; percentage of children reporting fewer than 10 books in
the home.
Health and safety (Unicef 2007, 12)

- health at age 0-1: number of infants dying before age 1 per 1.000 births; percentage of children
born with low birth weight (below 2.500g)
- preventive health services: percentage of children age 12 to 23 months immunized against
measles, DPT,
- safety: deaths from accidents and injuries per 100.000 aged 0-19 and polio
Educational well-being (Unicef 2007, 18)

- school achievement at age 15: average achievement in reading literacy; average achievement in
mathematical literacy; average achievement in science literacy
- beyond basics: percentage aged 15-19 remaining in education
- transition to employment: percentage aged 15-19 not in education, training or employment;
percentage of 15 year-olds expecting to find low-skilled work
Relationships (Unicef 2007, 22)
- family structure: percentage of children living in single parent families; percentage of children
living in stepfamilies
- family relationships: percentage of children eating the main meal of the day with parents more than
once per week; percentage of children who report that parents spend time “just talking” to them
- peer relationships: percentage of 11, 13 and 15 year-olds who report finding their peers
“kind and helpful”
Behaviours and risks (Unicef 2007, 26)

- health behaviours: percentage of children who eat breakfast; percentage who eat fruit daily;
percentage physically active; percentage overweight
- risk behaviours: percentage of 15 year-olds who smoke; percentage who have been drunk more
than twice; percentage who use cannabis; percentage having sex by age 15; percentage who
use condoms; teenage fertility rate
- experience of violence: percentage of 11, 13 and 15 year-olds involved in fighting in last
12 months; percentage of being bullied in last 2 months
Subjective well-being (Unicef 2007, 34)

- health: percentage of young people rating their own health no more than “fair” or “poor” -
school life: percentage of young people “liking school a lot”
- personal well-being: percentage of children rating themselves above the mid point of a
“live satisfaction scale”; percentage of children reporting negatively about personal well-being.
Fig. 52.4 Domains and indicators of child well-being (source: UNICEF 2007)
A particular problem may be caused by the subjective well-being domain, which

does not cover another area but overlaps the other domains. It is the origin of the
data that is different: children’s subjective experience versus adult expertise on
Dimension 1 Dimension 2 Dimension 3 Dimension 4 Dimension 5 Dimension 6

Dimensions of Average Material Health and Educational Family and Behaviours Subjective
child well-being ranking well-being safety well-being peer and risks well-being
position relationships
(for all 6
dimensions)
Netherlands 4.2 10 2 6 3 3 1
Sweden 5.0 1 1 5 15 1 7
Denmark 7.2 4 4 8 9 6 12
Finland 7.5 3 3 4 17 7 11
Spain 8.0 12 6 15 8 5 2
Switzerland 8.3 5 9 14 4 12 6
Norway 8.7 2 8 11 10 13 8
Italy 10.0 14 5 20 1 10 10
Ireland 10.2 19 19 7 7 4 5
Belgium 10.7 7 16 1 5 19 16
Germany 11.2 13 11 10 13 11 9
Canada 11.8 6 13 2 18 17 15
Greece 11.8 15 18 16 11 8 3
Poland 12.3 21 15 3 14 2 19
Czech Republic 12.5 11 10 9 19 9 17
France 13.0 9 7 18 12 14 18
Portugal 13.7 16 14 21 2 15 14
Austria 13.8 8 20 19 16 16 4
Hungary 14.5 20 17 13 6 18 13
United States 18.0 17 21 12 20 20 –
United Kingdom 18.2 18 12 17 21 21 20
Fig. 52.5 Child well-being: an overview (Unicef 2007, p. 2). Countries are listed in order of their
average rank for the six dimensions of child well-being. A light background indicates a place in the
top third of the table; medium denotes the middle third, and dark the bottom third
childhood. In Report Card 7 (Unicef 2007) there are some countries, e.g., Austria,
Greece, Ireland, Spain, and Switzerland, that perform much better in domain 6
(subjective well-being) than in domains 1–5 (mainly objective indicators), while
others, e.g., Denmark and Finland, would have to be slightly downgraded were the
subjective perception of greater relevance. How should these differences between
subjective perception and objective data be handled? Is it sensible to solve
this problem simply by calculating an average of the 6 domains (as done in Report
Card 7), or should we consider this an obvious contradiction needing further
analysis?
Do available child indicators genuinely represent children’s well-being and the
condition of modern childhood? Although progress has been made by extending out
to more complex multidimensional indices, I doubt that the components selected are
a genuine reflection of child well-being, for the following interdependent reasons:
• For practical reasons the construction of indicators is to a large degree still
data-driven. A number of relevant aspects of a child’s life are missing (e.g.,
mobility, access to information and communication technologies, activities, and
consumption).
• There is an adultist bias in the public perception of childhood, caused by adult

ideological assumptions and stereotypes. The public interest is focused too
much on children as victims and children as problems. Functionally, therefore,
both protection and social control are overrepresented in the selection of
indicators.
• Childhood as an autonomous project of children is hardly represented in statistical
accounting of childhood; children are seen as dependent on but not contributors to
society and as coproducers.
Nevertheless, in comparison with Report Card 1 (Unicef 2000), Report Card 7
(Unicef 2007) marks major progress on the way toward a more comprehensive
analysis of children’s well-being. While Report Card 1 focused almost exclusively
on income distribution, in Report Card 7 this original focus was kept within the
framework of just one of six domains; five new domains were added. On the whole,
however, development of a set of indicators covering child well-being in a
comprehensive and authentic way is still a work in progress.
52.6.3 The Search for the Gap: Inequality in Child Well-being
In recent years inequality issues have regained importance in public debates on

children and childhood. This trend is seen in Report Card 9 (Unicef 2010) on
“Children left behind – A league table of inequality in child well-being in the
world’s rich countries.” The reasons for this new emphasis on inequality in child
well-being are several:
• First, it is not only with a view to child well-being discourses that inequality
issues have regained relevance, it holds for public discourses at large. After
decades of neoliberal hegemony, there is a search for a new sociopolitical
equilibrium being more sensitive in regard to social and economic inequalities.
• Second, this new attitude is not exclusively about equality as such, to some
extent it is also a vehicle for improving the efficiency in globalized economies
and societies. In this respect I refer to the concept of the social investment state
in general, and with respect to children, I refer to the proposal to “invest in
children,” not for promoting children’s well-being as such, but for increasing
and improving the human capital of a given society.
• Third, Report Card 9 (Unicef 2010) indicates a more or less technical reason for
this trend. In previous child poverty studies, the actual poverty gap had often
been neglected. Two countries may have similar rates of relative poverty, e.g.,
20 % of children below the poverty line. However, while in country A the vast
majority of this group is located just below the poverty line, in country B a
considerable part of the group is living in severe poverty far below the poverty
line. In other words, there are very different child poverty situations in countries
A and B, but the principal measure of relative child poverty applied does not
reveal this difference at all.
In Report Card 9 (Unicef 2010, p. 4) it is argued that the concept of inequality is
adequate for making this difference visible. Two methods are

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Asher Ben-Arieh

With 138 Figures and 85 Tables

Ferran Casas The Norwegian Center for Child

ISBN 978-90-481-9062-1 ISBN 978-90-481-9063-8 (eBook)

# Springer Science+Business Media Dordrecht 2014

Springer is part of Springer Science+Business Media (www.springer.com)

Professor Asher Ben-Arieh

Asher Ben-Arieh is a professor of social work at the Hebrew University of

Professor Ferran Casas

Ferran Casas is a senior professor of social psychology in the Faculty of Education

Professor Ivar Frønes

Ivar Frønes is a professor of sociology at the University of Oslo, Norway, and

Professor Jill E. Korbin

Jill E. Korbin, Ph.D. (1978 U.C.L.A.), is associate dean, professor of anthropol-

Jonathan Bradshaw University of York, York, UK

1 Multifaceted Concept of Child Well-Being . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1

Section I Multiple Perspectives on Child Well-Being . . . . . . . . . . . . 29

Section II Multiple Approaches to Child Well-Being . . . . . . . . . . . 161

11 Child Healthcare and Child Well-Being: From the Past to

Section III Theoretical Approaches to Child Well-Being . . . . . . . . 633

23 Children’s Well-Being and Interpretive Reproduction . . . . . . . . 709

25 Socialization and Childhood in Sociological Theorizing . . . . . . . 759

Section IV Children’s Activities and Well-Being .............. 795

28 After-School Activities and Leisure Education .............. 863

29 Play and Well-Being in Children’s Life . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 895

31 Artistic Activity and Child Well-Being in Early Schooling:

Section V Arts, Creativity and Child Well-Being .............. 1033

37 Imagination, Play, and the Role of Performing Arts in the

Section VI Spirituality and Religion . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1099

Section VII An Ecological Perspective on Child Well-Being ..... 1227

Section VIII Economy/Material Well-Being . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1385

48 Well-Being and Children in a Consumer Society . . . . . . . . . . . . 1427

52 Childhood and Inequalities: Generational Distributive

53 Economics of Child Well-Being: Measuring Effects

Section IX Life Course and Child Well-Being . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1603

55 Early Childhood: Dimensions and Contexts of Development

56 Developmental Assets and the Promotion of Well-Being in

57 Child Well-Being and the Life Course . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1679

58 Adolescence and Well-Being . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1713

59 Monitoring the Health and Well-Being of Developing

60 Transition to Adulthood . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1763

Section X Interpersonal Relations ......................... 1785

62 Sibling Relationships and Children’s Social Well-Being . . . . . . . 1817

Section XI Media and Communication and Child Well-Being . . . . 1955

Section XII Well-Being and the Family . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2151

Section XIII Health and Child Well-Being . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2257

80 Illness and Child Well-Being . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2319

81 HIV and AIDS and Its Impact on Child Well-Being . . . . . . . . . . 2355

82 Cultural Roots of Well-Being and Resilience in Child

83 Body Image and Child Well-Being . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2409

Section XIV Well-Being and Children’s Rights . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2437

85 Implementation of the Convention on the Rights of the

86 Child Participation, Constituent of Community Well-Being . . . . 2503

Section XV Risk and Vulnerability . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2575

Section XVI Methods, Measures and Indicators .............. 2697

98 Indices of Child Well-Being and Developmental Contexts . . . . . 2807

102 Ethics of Researching Children’s Well-Being . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2895

Section XVII Interventions and Policies that Promote Child

104 Children in State Care . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2945