"Family" isn't a topic I generally like writing about. It seems forever associated in my mind with sickly sweet metaphors and tired, overdone platitudes about its "increasing importance in these rapidly changing times." You can imagine my delight, therefore, when I came across some interesting research that took a more economical, utilitarian look at the role of family.
In his 1996 book Born to Rebel (Pantheon), historian Frank Sulloway draws links between birth order, children's access to parental resources, and siblings' personality traits. Basing his ideas on Darwinian principles, he suggests that first-borns adopt a conservative personality in an effort to maintain the status quo and ensure that the large investment parents make towards this child is not redirected towards later-borns. (Parents make a large investment in their first child partly because they can't be sure if they'll have more kids in the future and partly because lack of experience causes them to overestimate how many resources are needed to raise a child.) To this end, first-borns are more likely than their younger siblings to identify with their parents, to have respect for existing authority figures, and to be more responsible and conscientious. They're also more likely to be aggressive and—because they try so hard to please their parents—to be neurotic. Later-borns, especially middle children, have little to gain by supporting the existing power structure and everything to gain by rebelling against it. Consequently, they are likely to be more rebellious, adventurous, creative, and open to experience than their older siblings. Last-borns tend to be less rebellious than middle children because parents tend to splurge on their final reproductive effort.
This theory differs in some respects from more common conceptions of birth order—especially those of Alfred Adler—and recent research lends some support to it. In a study to be published in the July 2005 edition of the Journal of Business Research, marketing professor Gad Saad finds that middle-borns are 44% more likely than first-borns to be innovative; the study is based on a survey of over 300 university students. In a 1998 paper published in the journal Evolution & Human Behavior, evolutionary psychologist Catherine Salmon presents data showing that middle children score lower than earlier- or later-borns on measures of family solidarity and are less likely to base their self identity on their family membership. Middle children are also less likely than their younger and older siblings to name a family member as someone to whom they feel closest.
This research paints a fairly unromantic view of family life, especially as kids are concerned. It would seem that parents' deepest suspicions are correct—kids love them mainly for their money. Family, it would seem, functions primarily as a means to an ends. To take an even starker view, consider that people in the West are far more independent today than they were several hundred years ago. The costs of education notwithstanding, people today are less likely to rely on family support in order to get established in the world. So what good is the family?
How about the fact that we're living longer and, consequently, might run into more problems requiring material support from our families? Well, the reality of modern life is that government programs will kick in and likely rescue us. OK, but what about social support, companionship, guidance, love? Surely we need family for that? Those are very important things, but in many cases, we can just as easily find them elsewhere. If the ubiquity of the 'urban tribe' is any indication, friends function as the primary family and main source of social support for many of us. Guidance? Well, many people seek it from teachers, counsellors, employers, and religious leaders; and thanks to today's wired world, finding guidance is as easy as turning on the computer. What about love? Well, owing to our increasing mobility, that can be found just about anywhere these days.
So really, it seems that family—at least in the traditional sense—isn't as indispensable as we've always thought it was or (or always wanted to think it was).
But let's take a second look at the evolutionary studies mentioned above. The personality of siblings—the very core of who they are—is determined by the family milieu they grew up in and, more specifically, where they fit into it. The traits that derive from the struggle to maintain their share of parental resources also determine the role that each of them assumes in the family.
Consider for a minute family disputes. As the conservative, responsible, and conscientious one, the eldest child may function as the 'peacekeeper', settling disputes and trying to keep the family together when it starts bulging at the seams. The middle child, by contrast, may take on the role of 'instigator'—actively dividing family members against one another and creating the kinds of factions of which soap operas are made. The youngest child, grown accustomed to being babied, may try to deflect attention from family turmoil by suddenly becoming 'ill' or otherwise creating a new, more urgent dilemma.
Or consider, on a less negative note, caring for an aging family member. The responsible first-born may take the initiative to co-ordinate care-giving responsibilities and will himself put in several hours fulfilling what he sees as his filial duty. By contrast, the middle-born may be more creative and suggest that the family hire a homecare worker to share the duties. The youngest, long accustomed to being the centre of attention, may attempt to relieve any guilt or feelings of helplessness the elderly relative may feel by giving him or her a chance to give back in some way (say, by soliciting his or her advice or otherwise acting as someone in need of guidance).
In each of these cases, the personality and, consequently, the roles that each family member assumes continues throughout life, not just within the family, but outside of it, too. Each interaction in the outside world is a surrogate for interaction within the family. The responsible, conscientious older child takes charge not only at home, but also at work and at play. His younger sibs see friendships as opportunities to have fun and try new things. His youngest sibs, expecting social interactions to revolve around them, take on submissive roles in romantic relationships, encouraging their partners to cater to their every whim and desire.
So right throughout our lives, who we are, the way we see the world and our place in it, and the way we deal with others is determined by a template that was set right at the moment we first started interacting with another family member (genes may lay the groundwork and parameters our personality, but the family milieu determines how those genes will be expressed).
Let's take this a step further. If the roles we adopt are a big part of who we are, then each person's place in the family contributes—at least partly—to the meaning and purpose that he or she ascribes to life. Life is about responsibility; I live to lead. Life is about pleasure and experience; I live to have fun. Life is about me; I live for myself. Why is this important? Well, when things in life become unbearable, it's the meaning and purpose we ascribe to it that keeps us going (as Nietzsche said, "He who has a why to live can bear with almost any how.") And if meaning in life is determined at least partly by how we define ourselves within—or even against—our families, then they are—for better or worse—more important then we might be inclined to give them credit for. And they may be even more important as we age because as the stresses and challenges of life accumulate—as the point of life becomes increasingly difficult to comprehend—our families become a source of meaning which functions to ground us and give us a sense of perspective. All families may be psychotic, as Douglas Coupland famously writes, but that doesn't mean that they can't give us some sense of purpose and keep us sane.
In a strange and warped kind of way, we owe our families for the meaning we get from them, even if the meaning is wrought from conflict, competition, and turmoil. For this—and as hard as it is for a utilitarian like me to admit—we also owe them some degree of devotion. And given that meaning is a life-sustaining force, I'm sure Darwin wouldn't quarrel too much with my sentiments.
Copyright © 2005, by Eddy M. Elmer
Permanent URL: http://www.eddyelmer.com/articles/fmymean.htm